(Fabio’s POV)
“Something wrong? You don't like its taste, do you? Sh*t. I really suck at making coffee,” Monique cursed herself because she thought I didn't like the coffee.
I immediately shook my head, shrugging away the misunderstanding she was making from my reaction. “No. It's nothing like that, Monique. Actually, I loved it. I loved the fact that it was blended in a way that sugar, coffee, and hot water were equal in quantity, resulting in a fair and great output.”
“Is it not bland, or too sweet, or too strong?” She was still conscious.
“It's not. Like I said, you got the right blend. I think I will get addicted to this from this day on.”
“Does that mean you want me to make you a coffee every day after you get home from work?”
“Yeah. That's if you're willing to do it, but if not
