Cara’s POV
I’m not ready to be alone with Alaric inside my house again so soon. A public place would be much safer for my willpower and my heart.
So I take Alaric to a nearby coffee shop.
The moment we walk inside, we are greeted with the crisp aroma of fresh coffee and a touch of cinnamon. Someone must be baking cinnamon rolls for the display case.
Talking to Alaric was my idea, but I’m not quite ready for it yet. So I go to the counter and order a cup of coffee. Alaric orders one too and then insists on paying.
“That’s really not necessary,” I tell him.
“Please,” he says, already producing his bank card.
I leave a hefty tip in the tip jar.
Our coffees are given to us in ceramic mugs. Alaric looks at his curiously, perhaps used to the bigger-business coffee shops that hand everyth
