night 6 of natasha’s 8 nights of chanukah | read the other nights here
coffee boy and flower girl
Daisy doesn't mean to skive off work, but one thing leads to another, and she's flying through London on the back of Coffee Boy's motorbike. Her mum'll understand, won't she? Opportunities like this don't come along everyday.
Daisy's late already, so when she comes out to the front of the shop to find her bike wheel flat, she's less than pleased. She's so far from pleased that she lets out her frustration by stomping her feet and spinning in a little circle, a very poor imitation of an Irish jig.
"Er, hello?"
Daisy freezes and looks up to see the bloke from the coffee shop standing in front of her, staring at the ground, where petals in every shade of pink lay scattered. It's barely 7 am, so the street is pretty sparsely populated, which means, thankfully, no one else witnessed her performance.
"Are you okay?" he asks hesitantly, looking a bit unsure of her. Daisy doesn't blame him, since he caught her in the act of throwing a tantrum. As he speaks, Daisy straightens up and adjusts the bouquets, wrapped in newspaper for safe travel, that are balanced in the crook of her arm.
"I'm fine, Coffee Boy," Daisy says with a sigh, followed by a blush once she realizes what she's said. Oh, shit. She's never even spoken to Coffee Boy before (all those imagined conversations in her mind don't count) and now here she is, giving him nicknames. "Wait, sorry—"
"No worries, Flower Girl," he says, a tentative smile growing on his face. It's a nice smile, if a bit caffeinated. "I don't believe you, though. That you're fine."
"Oh," Daisy says. She was so distracted by the smile that she almost forgot about the flat tire. "I've got a delivery to make, and my tire's gone flat."
Coffee Boy glances down at the bike, his smile turning into a frown. "I can have a look, if you'd like?"
Daisy shakes her head. "That's alright. I don't think it's a quick fix and I really ought to be going. Madame Marie likes her deliveries by 7:30 sharp."
"Madame Marie?"
"She owns the bookshop in Bloomsbury, the one with the owl on the sign?"
"Ah," Coffee Boy says, though Daisy can tell he has no idea what she's talking about. He looks like the kind of boy who doesn't read books and would rather watch the movie. "Well, I could give you a lift, I suppose."
"I--" Daisy sputters, unsure how to respond. As she figures it, she has a few options. She could go inside, phone Madame Marie to tell her the delivery will be late, and then take the time to fix her bike now. She could ask her mum if she could borrow the spare bike, which has been sitting dusty and rusty in the back of the shop for months. Or she could take Coffee Boy up on his offer. "Don't you have to be at work?"
Coffee Boy smirks at her like he thinks it's funny that she knows his schedule. But then he shakes his head. "Don't have to work today. I mixed up my shifts, so Jeri sent me right back out the door soon as I came in."
"Oh." Daisy ponders Coffee Boy for a second. Despite looking like somebody who doesn't read, he looks like a pretty decent driver. "Okay, I guess I'll take that lift, then. You've got a car?"
"Mm-mm." He gestures with his head up the road, and Daisy, clueless, follows him. She's completely baffled about where they're going until he comes to a stop in front of a motorbike parked next to the pavement. "This is Luna. Luna, meet Flower Girl."
Daisy stares. "You named your motorbike?"
"Course," he says, looking at her like she's crazy. "Doesn't your bike over their have a name?"
"Pepper," Daisy responds instantly. "But that's not as weird as—"
Coffee Boy cuts her off with a laugh and holds out a helmet. "Thought you had a deadline. You coming or not?"
Daisy nods and steps forward, taking the helmet from his hands. It's heavier than she thought it would be, even more so when she puts it on her head. Great, helmet hair, she thinks, feeling it press down on her ponytail.
"Don't forget to buckle it," Coffee Boy says, but before Daisy can do anything about it, he's right in front of her, buckling it underneath her chin for her. Before he pulls away, his fingertips brush her chin, making her start.
He only smiles as he straps on his own helmet and steps onto the bike. "Ready, Flower Girl?"
Daisy nods. She makes sure the flowers are snuggled securely in her backpack before she climbs on behind him. It all feels a bit silly, sitting so close to a stranger, her front pressed against his back, her legs so close to his. She hesitates, unsure where to put her hands, but the decision is made for her when he reaches back and grabs them, wrapping her arms tightly around her stomach.
"Hold on tight, Flower Girl," he says.
I have a name, Daisy thinks, but before she can say it, the engine is roaring and they're hurtling into traffic. Daisy tries not to scream as they teeter around corners and skid to a stop at red lights. Coffee Boy doesn't ask for directions, but he seems to know where he's going.
——————
"I have a name, you know," she finally manages to say as she's climbing off the bike.
"Yeah, I figured," Coffee Boy says, reaching to unclip her helmet before she has a chance to do it herself. He lifts it off her head, not breaking eye contact with her, which makes her even more conscious of how terrible her hair must look. "What is it?"
"What?" She's been so distracted by his blue eyes that she lost track of the conversation. "Oh, my name. It's Daisy."
He laughs, a sound so striking that she feels it in her ribs. "Daisy? Really?"
She nods, unsure if she should be offended. "Yeah, says so right here on my name tag." And indeed it does, right there on her chest, which makes her feel a bit stupid for even bringing it up.
Coffee Boy glances down at her chest and then meets her eyes again. "Well, yeah, I saw that, but i figured it was some kind of flower joke."
"Um, well, it is," Daisy explains. "My mum owns the shop. And she really loves flowers."
His eyes sparkle as he smiles. "So it would seem. You got sisters named Lily? Rose? Jasmine?"
Daisy smiles back as she shakes her head. "Nope, only child."
"Ah." He turns away now, looking at the storefront. Daisy's afraid to check her watch; she suspects she's late. So what's a few more minutes?
"You didn't tell me your name," she dares to ask as he turns back to his back, obviously planning on waiting there while she goes inside.
"Oh. It's Niall."
"Niall," she repeats. "Well, Niall, I'm just going to take these inside, but you don't have to wait for me. Go enjoy your day off, and I can catch the tube back to the shop."
"Nah, that's okay," he says. "I'll wait for ya."
“Are you sure?"
He nods. "Just go deliver your flowers."
Daisy feels a bit self-conscious as she goes up the walk to the front door, but when she looks back just before she goes inside, he's engrossed in his mobile and doesn't seem to be paying any attention. So Daisy turns to the task at hand.
"Madame Marie," she calls as she opens the door. Madame Marie appears from behind the counter, curly hair flying all over the place. When Daisy was younger, she thought Madame Marie was a witch. Now she understands that she's just an eccentric. "Sorry I'm late," Daisy says, pulling the bouquets out of her backpack. She unwraps them on the counter and arranges them in the vases that Madame Marie keeps there. "Had a spot of trouble with my bike."
“Looks like you managed quite well," Madame Marie says. "That's quite a bloke you've got there."
Daisy follows her gaze out the window, where Coffee Boy—ahem, Niall—is leaning on his bike, arms crossed over his chest. He's wearing a leather jacket, and if it weren't so sexy, Daisy might roll her eyes at how typical it is.
"He's not mine," she tells Madame Marie, returning her attention to the flowers. "Just gave me a ride."
"Your blush says otherwise," Madame Marie says. When Daisy looks at her, she smiles knowingly, and for a moment, Daisy wonders whether she's psychic. Nah, just eccentric.
——————
When Daisy comes out of the shop, Niall looks up from his mobile and watches her approach. She's already thinking about sitting behind him on his bike again, her arms wrapped tight around his stomach, but she knows she should be polite and deny the favor one more time. No matter how much she wants to touch him again.
“Really, I can take the train back," she says, standing on the pavement in front of him and trying not to look too disappointed at the small nod of his head. "If you have somewhere to be."
But then he shakes his head, and Daisy lets out the breath she didn't realize she was holding.
"Nowhere to be," he says, holding the helmet out to her. "But I do need to make a stop on the way back, if that's okay with you."
Daisy hesitates for a second. She really should be getting back to the shop; she and her mum are doing the flowers for a wedding this weekend and Daisy still has some designs left to finish. But a few minutes couldn't hurt. Half an hour, at the most. Her mum'll understand.
"Yeah, sure," Daisy says, taking the helmet from Niall's hands and buckling it under her chin quickly. "You're not, like, a drug runner or something, though, are you?"
"No," he says, looking at her quizzically as he gets on the bike. "I suppose I could say the same about you, couldn't I? What are you hiding in those bouquets?"
"Just flowers, unfortunately," Daisy says, thinking that her life would be so much more interesting if she weren't just a flower runner by day and a uni student by night. Sometimes she wishes that she hadn't agreed to keep working for her mum, that she'd gone to another city for uni, Brighton or Manchester, maybe. But here she is, stuck in London living in the flat she's lived in since she was a kid, cutting stems just as she always has.
"You coming?" Niall asks, interrupting her thoughts. Daisy nods and climbs on behind him.
This time she doesn't have to be told to hold on tight.
