With a nod, he followed her. Automatically, she headed for the coffeemaker, but then she paused. Was sixteenish too young for coffee? The teenagers on TV seemed to drink an awful lot of it, but Daisy didn’t want to stunt the kid’s growth or anything.
“Are you old enough for coffee?” she asked, almost laughing at his startled expression.
His shoulders pulled back as he answered, “Sure. I drink it all the time.” His too-casual tone gave away the lie, but Daisy just shrugged. A cup of coffee wasn’t going to kill him, and he was plenty tall already, so the threat of growth-stunting was minimal.
“Go ahead and pick one.” She gestured toward the round-robin display of different coffee flavors, all packaged in single-serving cups, sitting next to the brewer.
After a glance at her, as if checking to make sure she’d been serious about the offer, Tyler hurried toward the coffee. He examined the options with a gravity that made Daisy swallow a smile. It had been a long time since she’d been around any kids his age, and it was different because she’d been a teenager back then, too.
When he finally decided on mocha and held it up as if asking for her approval, Daisy nodded and held out her hand. Placing his chosen cup in her palm, he stepped back so she could reach the brewer.
As she popped it into the coffeemaker and got a mug out of the cupboard, she prompted, “Groceries?”
“Um…I’m not sure what’s going on. Mr. Lee just told me I’d be bringing them to you every week. They don’t do deliveries usually—or, like, ever, at least not in the month I’ve been working there—so I wasn’t sure if you were going to text me with your list or what. That’s why I stopped by here.”
Daisy only had to think about it for a few seconds before the Chris-shaped lightbulb turned on. “Excuse me,” she said to Tyler as she pulled her phone out of her hoodie pocket, found Chris’s name in her contacts—her two pages of contacts—and tapped the screen.
“What’s up, Dais?” He’d answered after only a single ring.
“Um…the grocery deliverer is here.”
“Really? That’s great! I didn’t think Mr. Lee was going to do it.”
Daisy opened her mouth, but then glanced at Tyler and closed it again, remembering that anything she said would be all over Simpson High School within a few hours. Scratch that—it would be all over Field County, if teenaged Simpsonites were as gossipy as their fully grown relatives.
“Dais? You there?”
“Yes.” She was still trying to figure out how to argue with him without giving Tyler a show. It seemed rude to go to another room and leave him alone in a stranger’s house, especially when she was the one who’d made the call.
“What’s wrong?”
Daisy gave up trying to figure out how to yell at Chris in code. “I’ll talk to you about it when you’re here later.”
“Are you mad?”
Since she was feeling more irritation than anger, but she couldn’t explain without also saying it to Tyler—who wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was avidly listening to every word of her side of the conversation—she just said, “Later, Chris.”
“You shouldn’t have to wait for fresh food, Dais. If you want to make brownies, you should be able to fucking make them without having to wait for Gabe to wander into town.”
Daisy blinked in surprise. Chris hardly ever swore—at least, not in front of her.
“You can be mad at me if you want, Dais, but fresh vegetables and milk shouldn’t be a special treat, for God’s sake. I’m just—”
“Chris,” Daisy interrupted, since he was getting louder and louder, and soon both she and Tyler would be able to hear everything Chris was saying. “I’ll talk to you when you get here.”
Ending the call, she forced a smile. “Your coffee’s ready.”
He gave the mug a wary look before picking it up, making Daisy fairly sure he didn’t actually drink coffee. The way he winced at the first bitter sip confirmed it. Hiding her amusement, she pulled out the sugar bowl, a spoon, and some milk, placing everything on the counter next to Tyler.
“Would it be easiest if I just texted you my grocery list?” she asked as he poured enough milk in his coffee to turn it tan.
“Sure.” He paused between adding his fifth and sixth spoonful of sugar to his mug in order to tug his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and extend it toward her. As he finished adding sugar and then stirred the milky syrup that used to be coffee, she added her name and number to his phone and then called it so she’d have his number. Although she wasn’t trying to pry, Daisy couldn’t help but notice that his contact list was even shorter than hers.
Sympathy made her smile at him a little too warmly as she returned his phone. When his surprise turned into a mix of interest and hope, she realized her mistake. It wouldn’t be good to make her new grocery-delivery boy think she was hitting on him.