Page 197 of Rescuing Ally: Part 1
Some habits never die.
Chapter 52
The next morning,Hank and Gabe make me late for work. The bell over the door chimes as I burst into The Guardian Grind, a flurry of half-apologies, tangled hair, and barely-contained afterglow.
My cheeks are flushed everything that came before it. Morning wood.Blowies. Hands, mouths, bodies—everywhere.
No wonder I’m late.
I flick stray strands of hair out of my face, tugging my apron over my head as the familiar hum of espresso machines and easy conversation wraps around me like a warm blanket.
Outside the tall glass windows, Guardian HQ bustles with its usual array of operatives, researchers, and logistical staff. Inside, the shop moves at its own rhythm—a constant buzz of orders being placed, names called, and mugs being set on marble-topped counters.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” I call out, slipping behind the counter with a breathless grin. “I know I’m late, but I swear—I have a really good excuse.”
Probably not one I can share.
Malia is the first to look up from the espresso machine, which ismaking a concerning grinding noise as she fiddles with the steam wand. One perfectly sculpted brow arches in amusement.
Her hair is tied back in a bright red scarf that pops against the richness of her flawless complexion. With her customary air of calm, she shoots me a look that says,This had better be good.
Beside her, Jenna lets out a snort, nearly spilling the oat milk she’s been frothing.
“Let me guess,” Jenna says, her wide grin contagious as she props a hand on her hip. “You’re late because…?”
“Well…” I draw the word out, feigning innocence.
“Spill it, Collins,” Malia demands, still fighting with the espresso machine. “What’s your excuse this time?”
I sling my bag into the cubby under the counter. “I got… held up.”
“Is that what we’re calling it these days?”
“Technically, it’s not a lie.”
“I don’t know how you manage to walk with all the sex you’re getting.” Jenna shakes her head and then points to the register. “Fair warning, the register’s been freezing all morning, and I’m pretty sure the espresso machine is possessed.”
“Again?” I groan. “Didn’t that repair guy just come last week?”
“He did,” Malia sighs, gently patting the machine. “But apparently, fixing things isn’t Mike’s strong suit. I’ve already called and he’s supposed to come this afternoon.”
“Want to hear why I was late?” I tuck stray strands of damp hair behind my ear before facing them.
“Does it matter?” Jenna props her hands on her hips. “You’re dying to tell us.”
“Wellll…” I draw the word out, feigning bashfulness, though the heat in my cheeks is all too real. “Let’s just say, morning wood waits for no woman—and apparently, neither do blowjobs.”
Jenna nearly chokes on her laughter while Malia freezes mid-pour as the espresso machine gives another concerning gurgle. Her mouth twitches in an effort not to smirk. The latte art she’d been perfecting is long forgotten as she shakesher head at me.
“Ally,” she admonishes lightly, though her tone is more affectionate than anything. “Do you hear yourself?”
“Pro tip: Never ask two dominant men what they want for breakfast. The answer’s alwaysyou, and it’s always a three-course meal.” I shrug, my lips quirking into an entirely unapologetic grin. “And by ‘course,’ I mean orgasms.”
“Ally!” Malia tosses a towel at me. “You have no filter.”
“What can I say? Sex is healthy. These things happen. I just happen to have a lot of it.” I coax the temperamental register screen to life and glance sidelong at my friend.
Malia groans, exasperated but amused, while Jenna fake-gags from the pastry counter.
