Chapter Nine #2
After a morning of forcing myself to focus on the web design, and completing the most complex set of pages they required, I figured I was due a break, so despite my nerves, and my uncertainty, I found myself lingering outside the coffee shop again.
I eyed the long queue nervously, mentally preparing myself for noise, and chatter, and strong smells, and all the things that overwhelmed me on days like this, and that’s when I heard him.
“It’s like you read my mind,” Harley’s voice piped up behind me, and I spun on the spot, instinctively tightening my grip on my helmet as I moved.
He offered me a surprised smile, and reached out to tuck my hair behind my ear. See? Little touches like that made me feel special, protected, and yet safe, even though it was a person touching me. If another person tried that, I’d have hit them with the helmet and caused a whole mess of trouble.
“Hi,” I said finally, biting my lip to stop some inappropriate desperate comment from escaping.
He watched me for a moment, and glanced at his phone.
“Do you have time to join me for one? I’ve got almost an hour.” Oh. I thought he was checking messages, since I was standing there like an idiot.
“I have time,” I blurted, rolling my eyes at myself. I took a deep breath and tried again. “That’d be nice, thanks.”
Harley tucked his phone in his pocket and gestured to the same table we’d sat at before.
“You wanna hold our table? Fair warning, this time we’re having food too. What’ll ya have?”
I looked at him blankly and he nodded slowly, as if I’d spoken out loud, even though I’d remained silent.
“Got any allergies or intense dislikes?”
“Besides people?”
He laughed, guiding me to the seat I used last time.
“Yeah. Impossible to avoid those sometimes. Why don’t I surprise you?”
I found myself nodding and watching him head inside, while a million things raced around my mind.
Why was he here? Why were we here at the same time?
What did it mean? Why was he indulging my weirdness?
Why was he in there when I should be paying?
What if he ordered food I wouldn’t like?
By the time he reappeared, my fists were clenched on the table, as I fought the noise in my head, so I could try to be normal for a bit.
He pushed a drink toward my hands and sat down, watching me quietly while I blinked slowly and put my focus on the heat of my mug, the scent of my mocha, and finally the gentle smile on his face, when I managed to meet his eyes.
“I’m a freak,” I said miserably, lowering them again, because I felt so much shame for struggling with things he found so easy.
Harley snorted, and reached out to take my hand, patiently waiting for the clenched fingers to relax into his grip.
“Maybe I’m a freak too, you don’t know.”
I stared at his big strong fingers wrapped around mine. His fingers were slightly tanned, his nails short, and although it looked clean, I could smell the comforting Harley smells, of motor oil and metals, and it settled a little of the chaos in my head.
“Why do you bother with me?” I asked, despite his last comment, because how the hell would anyone choose to spend time with someone like me?
He squeezed my fingers gently. “We have all my favourite things in common for a start, despite your appalling taste in coffee. I enjoy talking to you, and I love how you practically soak up everything I show you in the workshop, like a sponge, like if I quizzed you on it, you’d get it right first time. ”
Wow. Most people found my exacting behaviours and reactions annoying, but he saw value in them.
“I’d love to get something right first time,” I said, mostly to myself, but he heard me, because his thumb stroked over the back of my hand lightly. It offered another layer of Harley comfort that I could really get addicted to.
“You get so much right, but you don’t see it.
I think you’re so worried you’re not fitting in that you don’t see that you do.
We all have quirks, and no two people are the same.
That’s what I like about the human race.
Our differences. The fact that we can have things in common, and be on complete opposite sides about other things.
Wouldn’t life be boring if we were all the same? ”
“You make me feel safe,” was my next unwelcome blurted statement, but he smiled again.
“You’re always safe with me.”
“Thank you, but… I mean, you allow me to be weird, and don’t call me on it. Surely you must look at me sometimes and think ‘what the hell’?”
He laughed, glancing up as the server appeared with two plates for us, answering me before I could even see what was on the plates.
“I think that a lot, about a lot of people I know, but never you,” he accepted the plate in front of him, and grinned at the server, “thanks, love.”
Mine was in front of me, and the enticing scents of bacon and cheese hit me, as I realised he’d ordered me a toastie, exactly the one I’d have chosen. How did he know? I lifted surprised eyes to him, and he lifted his eyebrows.
“Okay?”
“Perfect, actually. How did you know?”
He lifted his sandwich, which looked the same as mine, and he responded before he took a huge man-sized bite.
“I pay attention.”
We ate quietly, while my mind repeated that statement over and over. Finally he took pity on me, I guess, because he was ever watchful.
“Last time we came here, I saw you eyeing them up, so I was hoping it was want, and not hate, I was seeing,” he winked then, “that’s all I hope for when I’m with you.”
“You want me to want you?” I asked, a little too loudly, turning the heads of the people at the next table, while Harley chuckled quietly, wiping his mouth with the small paper napkin they provided.
“Do you want me to?”
My mouth fell open and I stared at him for a moment as he started to laugh again.
“Wait… do I want you to want me to want you?”
He held both hands up by his temples, and made the ‘head exploding’ boom gesture, and we both laughed.
“Okay, my point is this,” he said, getting serious now, “I like you. I enjoy spending time with you, and I really don’t think you can put me off, so… yeah, do your worst. I can take it.” He sat back and held his hands out, palms up, like he was literally waiting for me to hit him with something.
“I like you too!” I practically yelled instead. Oh god. Kill me now.