"Bells, my ownmotherwouldn't recognize me right now. And I'm sure Jamie would assume we'd say hi and wouldn't be lurking across the coffee shop."
The coffee shop comes into view. It's some hipster joint with exposed brick and plants hanging from the ceiling like a jungle. I don't love the idea of plant bugs dropping into my coffee, but these placesalwayshave some good shit.
Rafael parks around the corner, far enough away that it won't look like we're arriving together.
The plan is simple. Bells goes in first, gets a table, and waits for Jamie. Raf and I follow a few minutes later and grab a spot in the back where we can keep eyes on the situation without being obviously creepy about it.
It would probably be easier to just be up front with Jamie. But even though we've only met him once, and it was so long ago it feels like a fever dream, I distinctly remember he's hyper andwould be glancing at us "subtly" from across the coffee shop the entire time.
And then we'ddefinitelyget noticed.
Bells checks her phone. "Jamie says he's running a few minutes late. Something about Cheeto."
"The tiger or the snack?" I ask.
"The tiger."
Raf blinks. "His life is so fucking strange."
Bells unbuckles her seatbelt, then pauses with her hand on the door. "Hey. Thanks for doing this. Both of you. I know it's..."
"It's nothing," Rafael says, waving her off. "We're just two guys having coffee. Two totally normal guys who definitely aren't tailing our bandmate because her stalker might show up at any moment."
"Very reassuring."
"I try."
Bells gives us both a smile that fucking melts me, then slips out of the car. I watch her walk toward the coffee shop, that familiar confident stride that's pure Bells even when she's in disguise.
Rafael and I sit in silence for exactly thirty seconds before he says, "This is fucking surreal."
"Which part?"
"All of it?" He scrubs a hand over his slicked-back hair, grimacing at the product residue on his palm. "A few weeks ago, I was absolutely fuckingcertainI was straight, for one thing."
"Life comes at you fast."
"That's one way to put it."
We wait the agreed-upon five minutes before heading in. The coffee shop is exactly as pretentious as the exterior promised, complete with Edison bulbs everywhere they can possibly put them and a chalkboard menu with items likeExistential Crisis Espresso.
I genuinely can't tell if that one is a joke.
Bells is already seated near the window, scrolling through her phone with practiced nonchalance. She doesn't look up when we enter, which is the point.
We're strangers.
Definitelynotpart of an omega protection detail.
Rafael nudges me toward a table in the back corner with good sightlines to the door and Bells's table, partially obscured by a massive potted fern with a name tag inviting you to say hi to Gerard.
They name the plants?
A server appears almost immediately, wearing a friendly smile and septum piercing. "Hey there! First time?"
Great. It's the kind of place where they give you customer service by crawling up your ass. Normally, I'd be thrilled. I love a good smalltalk session.
Right now, though…