Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
DEVIN
Okay, so the story that just popped up on QueerWaystoFallinLove is…something.
I met my boyfriend because I got stuck under a barbell at the gym.
Classic ego lift gone wrong. I’m lying there, pinned and praying no one notices, when this gorgeous guy appears above me like a fitness angel and lifts it off me like it weighs nothing.
Instead of judging me, he offered to spot me properly.
Then he offered to get coffee. Then dinner.
That was eight months ago. He still calls me his Damsel in Distress, or just “Damsel” when he’s feeling affectionate.
I’ve never lived it down, and honestly? I don’t want to.
I’m sitting in my usual spot at the coffee shop, and I can’t help grinning at my laptop screen. Damsel in Distress. That’s either the worst or best pet name I’ve ever heard, and I’ve moderated stories featuring “Snuggle Muffin” and “Love Potato.”
My fingers hover over the keyboard, ready to defend this beautiful disaster of a meet-cute from whatever cynicism TruthGuardian is about to unleash.
But he’s not online.
I have a weird sense of disappointment. He’s normally online during his lunch hour.
Maybe I scared him off last night with the cuddle talk? Maybe he’s building a spreadsheet to calculate exactly how inappropriate my flirting was. Because let’s be real—that’s what it was. Flirting. With someone whose real name I don’t even know.
I take a sip of my oat-milk latte and try to focus on the Damsel in Distress story, but my eyes drift to the door as it chimes. And my stomach whooshes. Because there he is.
Cute Coffee Shop Guy.
He’s got the worn messenger bag slung across his shoulder. Same dark hair that I swear defies the laws of physics with how perfectly imperfect it is.
I watch him surreptitiously as he orders. I can’t hear what from here, but based on the barista’s hand movements, it’s something simple. No modifications, no special requests.
When he turns, clutching his coffee, our eyes meet for a second.
His gaze flicks from my face to my laptop to the book that I’ve been reading that’s propped beside my coffee cup.
It’s not a once-over, but it’s…something. It doesn’t reach the level of checking out, but it’s definitely more than just a casual glance.
It’s a glance with footnotes.
Breaking eye contact, he moves past me to his usual table.
My heart thumping, I pick up my book and try to get back into the story. But the words blur together because apparently my brain has decided that processing a cute guy’s half-look is more important than Vonnegut’s take on the apocalypse.
“Um…excuse me?”
My head snaps up so fast I probably give myself whiplash.
Cute Coffee Shop Guy is hovering by my table. Actually hovering. Like he’s not quite committed to being here, but can’t seem to leave either.
Oh my god.
“Hi,” I manage because, apparently, that’s the extent of my verbal abilities when faced with such a cute guy up close.
“Hey, I don’t usually do things like this.” He licks his lips nervously. “But I couldn’t help noticing the stickers on your laptop. And um…I was just wondering…uh…whether you’re single.”
My heart is pounding in my ears, and I suddenly understand why people in rom-coms always spill their coffee at crucial moments because my hands are shaking like I’ve had twelve espressos.
“Uh…yeah, I’m single,” I manage to get out.
“Great. Do you want to go on a date with my brother?”
My brain does this weird stuttering thing, like it’s buffering. Did he just say…brother? His brother? My mental GPS is recalculating because this conversation just took a turn I didn’t expect.
I blink rapidly. “You want me to go out with your brother?”
Cute Coffee Shop Guy hastens to explain.
“Yeah, I noticed you reading a book by Kurt Vonnegut, and that’s his favorite author.
And you’re obviously a Giants fan.” He nods at my orange-and-black cap.
“And so is he. And he’s vegetarian.” He gestures at the back of my laptop.
“I thought you guys might have a lot in common.”
“Oh…right.”
I’m still not sure how to process this. One second, I thought I was being asked out by a guy I’ve been checking out for the last few weeks. The next, I’m being passed along like a LinkedIn recommendation.
“Here’s a photo of him. His name is Travis.” He flashes his phone screen in front of me. “Are you interested?”
I glance at the photo on his phone, and it feels like I’ve suddenly developed a medical condition where I forget how to form words or possibly how to breathe. WebMD probably doesn’t cover this.
Because the photo on his screen shows a guy with all of Cute Coffee Shop Guy’s features, but amplified.
Gorgeous green eyes behind glasses. Dark hair with a slight curl.
Strong jawline with slight stubble that walks the perfect line between “I’m professionally put-together” and “I might build you furniture with my bare hands.”
His smile is a little crooked, like he’s perpetually skeptical of something but might be convinced otherwise.
He’s adorable. Hot. Handsome. Gorgeous.
My mouth goes dry. There’s no way a guy like that should need his brother trawling coffee shops for dates.
Is this some elaborate prank where they’re going to film my reaction for TikTok? Or is it an organ harvesting scheme where they lure you in with the promise of a hot date and then literally steal your heart?
But if there’s anything I’ve learned from moderating the QueerWaystoFallinLove lightbeam of ShareYourGlow for the last two years, it’s that you don’t know how love will find you.
So maybe, maybe, this is how my love story begins? A cute guy in a coffee shop deciding to play matchmaker between me and his even cuter brother?
I take a deep breath. “Um, yeah, I guess I’m interested.”