#Chapter 91: What Love Feels Like

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 everything out in paper and plastic. This local shop is much homier than that, and I take comfort in that now, trying to gather strength for the conversation to come. I sit against the wall, and