ARIANA’S POV
I leaned against the counter, adjusting my apron as I glanced around the quiet coffee shop. It was ten in the morning and there were just three customers in the shop. It wasn’t this quiet by that time and I was starting to wonder what was going on.
Rylee stood beside me, resting her elbows on the counter and giving me that mischievous look of hers—the one that always meant she was about to say something I didn’t want to hear.
“You still haven’t told me why you can’t just ask Zayn for the money,” she said, her tone serious but laced with a hint of seriousness.
I let out a sigh, running my hand through my hair before tousling it. “Because I don’t want to,” I replied, keeping my voice low. “I just don’t like asking people for money. And asking Zayn… I don’t know, it just fee
