August was daydreaming. He could smell the world around him, a fresh crisp breeze drifting past his nose lazily. The ambient sounds of the fire crackling mixed with the sound of crickets chirping and the soft whispers of the breeze danced among the quiet inhales of those asleep around him. It was everything August could do to keep awake… Wait, fire? There shouldn’t be a campfire here. August was in- he opened his eyes, and took in his surroundings.

The bookstore around him solidified into place. The sounds and smells of the world he had been dreaming about faded away, replaced by the quiet but consistent hum of the heater and the pungent perfume of paper. August worked here, and he loved it. Today he was tired unfortunately. He hadn’t slept near as long as he wanted to, and his dreams were calling him.

August sat up, then made himself busy, corralling a pile of books he’d been thumbing through. A book sat on the countertop next to him; an Index called The Evolution of Tinctures and Tonics. The table of contents was open, and he had been idly trailing through it.

He spent a moment replacing the books he had been rifling through back, sans The Evolution of Tinctures and Tonics, then sat back down. He glanced longingly at the clock. Chris should get to the book store any minute now for the shift change, and August could go home to do some reading, and sleep.

The clock sounded the hour, and August began closing his shift out. Books went back on shelves, the till was counted, and the checklist filled out. It was barely 3 minutes past the hour when the bell over the door rang, signaling someone entering the store.

“Welcome in!” August said, writing his till count down.

“Thank you! Can I get your help looking for a book?” A smooth voice said, forcing August to pause. He mentally prepared himself, then looked up.

His eyes found the cute barista that worked in the coffee shop next door. August's train of thought ran off the rails for a moment.

“Uhh… yes- yeah. What book are you-umm.” August said, fumbling his words.

“One on the history of coffee, Uncommon Grounds I think it’s called.” The barista smiled at August, who looked to the computer and trolled through the store index. He had only one copy.

“R-Right this way please.” August couldn’t keep the slight tremor out of his voice. He typically didn’t lead customers to the books they were looking for. August was also typically not caught off guard with one of the best looking men he’d ever seen.

It seemed that August was tripping over himself to properly do his job, but he got a hold of himself as the welcoming scent of book binding glue and the quiet hum of the bookstore calmed him.

“Here it is, I think.” August said, and began reaching for the volume. At the same time, the Barista had done the same and their hands bumped into each other as they both sought to grab the book.

“Oh- I’m sorry.” August said, stealing his hand back to his side. The barista took in the sight of the little book store clerk.

“It’s fine.” He said, a smile on his face. “I’m Reese, I work in the Cold Cup Cafe next door… you’re August, aren’t you?” August’s spine straightened. He knew August’s name? How did he… Oh. August gave it when he got his standard coffee order from the cafe.

“Yes… I am.” August said, after clearing his throat. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” He couldn’t think of a better greeting.

“Nice to meet you as well!” Reese said, that same smile on his face. The warm one Reese gave August every time he got his coffee. August couldn’t help but stare. He was taken by the barista, and he had never felt his way before. Like many problems in the real world, August sought the safety of books for help. Every bit of literature told him an answer that he didn’t want to acknowledge. It was the only answer that made sense, however. A crush.

Even still, August wouldn’t let himself fall. He was too logical- too book oriented he knew. No sorry soul around him would feel that way about August.

“August?” Reese said, pulling August out of his stupor.

“Something on my face?” Reese quirked an eyebrow at August, who had to fight to keep the sudden blush off of his face.

“Nope! Nothing- I’m sorry. Here, can I help with anything else?” August said in a panic, trying to reorginize his thoughts. Reese’s eyes glinted with something August didn’t recognize.

“Yes, just one more thing. Any book on Swords or Sword Fighting, if you’ve got it.” Given a task to Latch into, August walked right over to the section he’d known the subject would be. He had memorized the layout of the bookstore after all.

“Any of these volumes should suit your needs, I think. This one here is on European styles, this on Asian Styles, and this one on the historical influence of sword combat.” Reese gave August another smile and turned to perouse the books on the shelf.

Another ring of the bookstore bell sounded the arrival of Chris who was 15 minutes late, August was sure of that. August rushed to the front of the store and his suspicions were confirmed. Chris counting his till, bobbing his head to music unheard.

“Shift change!” Chris said. August didn’t have the ire in him to deny Chris the ritual.

“Shift change. Are you all good here?” August asked. Chris nodded, writing his count on a sheet then closing the till.

“Should be. Have a good afternoon, August.” August nodded to Chris, then started toward the door when something stopped him. His feet carried him back to the isle Reese was in. He found it empty.

“Ah.” He felt an odd disappointment. Taken away from the barista too early.

“Looking for something, sir?” A voice said from behind August. He turned to find Reese eyeing him, two books he’d picked in his arms.

“I uhh. No, well. I wanted to…” August trails off as a slip of paper from one of the books, tucked into a page close to the front, drifted out and landed on the ground. Without thinking, August bent down to retrieve the paper.

“This fell from your book. I wanted to return it.” August says prompt, happy to have an excuse.

“Oh? That fell? Well I’m happy you caught that! It’s for you, after all!” August looked at the paper. It had been folded over itself.

August looked the paper over in his hand, then unfolded it. A series of ten numbers, ordered haphazardly was on it, and a name. Both written in a strangely boxy hand.

"Reese..." August said, dumbly.

"Here and reporting for duty! Your name's August, no?" Reese's face lit with a small smile at August's reaction.

"How did you-" August followed Reese's gaze to his name tag placed upon his shirt. "Ah."

"You typically give me your coffee order too, when you get some. Peanut Butter Mocha, right? Euhg. Not my first choice, but it's popular."

"Yeah, I do suppose I should've thought about that." August felt awkward. He hopped it didn't show.

"S'fine, bud. Anyway, yeah! That's my phone number. Give me a call sometime, I'd like to see you outside of work. You clearly like books, so maybe we can talk about that sometime?" August practically bit his tongue.

"I'd like that!" He said, and hoped it wasn't all too quick on his part. That earned August a smile from Reese, and the two parted ways after a few more words of conversation.

Well! That went well!

Now... Time to go home. An armful of books, his bag slung over a shoulder, and a promising future encounter with the barista. August felt downright accomplished.

That was... until he remembered that he had forgotten to give Reese his phone number.