Hot Barista Novels & Stories

Along with that beautiful cheerful voice comes a pleasant blanket of warmth that instills my being with instant peace and a drugging lure that nearly sets me afloat over to where he is, stationed behind the rowdy counter as one of the baristas. Clad in a white button-up shirt with its sleeves rolled to his elbows, a white baseball hat on his tousled blonde locks with its bill turned to the back, an enchanting cheerful smile etched on his shimmering face, and his voice rich and resplendent with glee. He's not the only barista, yet, the sea of women is ferocious to mob him. Save for the counter that forces them to keep off him. Well, that's not preventing the bold ones from reaching their gree

Jade smiles at me from behind the counter. "I'll be with you in a sec Ashling," he says as he switches on the coffee grinder. I watch him take down two mugs shaped like owls hanging from hooks above the counter. Jade's a trained barista and he makes a cup of coffee faster than anyone. I can see what it is that Jamie likes about him. Besides being handsome in an unkempt, tortured artist kind of way (a vague resemblance to Kurt Cobain with sandy blonde hair tied behind his head and sharp features), he's also a genuinely nice guy.

he said with a smile A few minutes later Ari brought him a cup of smoothie instead with a side of snacks. “It’s a little late for coffee don’t you think?”..she said as she pushed the tray closer to him. “It’s a new recipe I tried..I hope you like it”…she continued with the sweetest yet hottest smile he’d ever seen. Cam got lost in her smile..she was the most unapologetically hottest barista he’d ever seen…her sexy short dress with her apron, her properly curved body, her caramel skin that shined like mirror, her siren eyes that could make one lose their senses. How could someone be so hot… thought…

His voice grows louder and his eyes dance between my own. “Good afternoon! I’m Stacey, what can I get you two to drink?” I turn to see a bubbly young barista, blonde hair blue eyes and full of energy. I can only assume she has tried out multiple latte combinations this morning and has nothing but caffeine pumping through her veins. “We’ll take two coffees please Stacey, thank you.” I try to echo her enthusiasm, but I’m pretty sure it sounded sarcastic. When she nods and spins on her heel to get them, I look back at my dad, who is furrowing his brows at me.

She was promptly greeted by a friendly barista standing behind the counter. “Good morning, Miss. What can I get you?” asked the barista. Irene smiled and spoke her order with a degree of certainty, her desire for a caffeine boost palpable. "I'd like a triple shot vanilla latte, please,” Irene said. “Hot or cold?” asked the barista. “Hot please,” Irene answered. The barista nodded in acknowledgment and then inquired, "May I have your name, please?" Irene responded with a polite tone, "It's Irene."

he said, taking a sip of his coffee. “Why? Did something happen to your Ferrari?” I asked. Doesn’t it feel odd to even say? A high schooler driving a Ferrari to school. “Nope,” he said, handing me the other cup of coffee he was holding. “Specially brewed by our barista,” he said. My eyes widened. “You have a barista in your house?” Bran rolled his eyes like it was no big deal. “Maxine Hannah Holmes! Why aren't you driving off already?!” my mom yelled, sticking her head out of the upstairs window.

“I see you eyeing the sweets. Why not come in and give your taste buds a spa day?” The women giggled like a K-drama was happening in real life. One whispered, “He’s even hotter in person…” But then they hesitated. “W–we want to… but…” they trailed off like they were about to reveal a dark secret. “But what?” Fabian asked, eyebrow raised, worried that maybe his barista accidentally started serving chili instead of chai again. “Because,” one of them said dramatically, “Sophie Barbers made a video last night saying your drinks have... potions in them. To make us addicted.”

I don’t process anything when he pulls me into a hug for a few seconds, my eyes wandering around, dumbfounded. When he pulls back, he says, “See you in class,” and dismisses himself. Well, that’s odd. Shrugging off the strange morning, I retrieve my bike and head to Starbucks. *** “What can I get for you?” the barista asks. “I’ll have a nitro cold brew with extra cream,” I say, placing my order politely. The shop is starting to fill up, even though it’s early, and a group of girls behind me in line keeps irritating me with giggles, as if they’re twelve-year-olds.

Sydney uttered as he sipped his fifth cup of coffee, a caramel latte with rainbow sprinkles and extra vanilla. His was a plain espresso, but he was glad one of them enjoyed their stakeout. “The baristas are looking again.” Sydney uttered as he slurped his drink noisily to show them that they were technically still customers and couldn’t be kicked out. Adrian’s gaze moved to the door, where two bulky men emerged, sounding the small bell. Again, the smell of gunpowder followed their presence, but they did not look as if they posed any harm as they went straight to the barista and ordered espressos.

Maddie was nowhere to be found and all I met was a fuming Spaniard, tapping his fingers on the counter. "How hard is it to get a barista here?" He said, his grey orbs gleaming. "I'm really sorry, sir," I said, and grabbed a notebook. "Winslow, give me my usual. Hazlo rápido," "Pumpkin cold brew?" "No, the other usual," "Green tea Frappuccino, Grande?" I asked. "Si," "Coming right up," I said, trying to sound cheerful. As I grabbed a cup and a sharpie, Mr. Decarlo eyed me closely.