Chapter 18 Tommy
TOMMY
Freddie must be sick or out, because I haven’t heard a peep from him at all this morning.
Which is kind of unusual, if I’m being honest. But regardless of whether or not my brother’s here to make breakfast—like he is most days—I can’t help but feel like today the sun is shining even though it’s rainy as shit.
Because last night, after my talk with Zack, I texted Nora.
And while she hasn’t texted me back yet, I thought maybe instead of going out for coffee, I could bring her a coffee.
Something tells me that whether she meant for me to see those texts or not, she could use a friendly visit. And some sugar.
She just broke up with her boyfriend…aka my brother.
She’s also going through some kind of post-breakup thing, if her night out with Freddie and Russ and her texts last night are any indication.
I keep thinking about our ride in my truck.
How good it felt to just talk to her. But also, I keep thinking about the softness in her gaze, the understanding when she was listening and talking to me.
I mean, we’re friends, right? Friends totally bring each other coffee and stuff while they’re at work. And yes, maybe there could be more, but I’m not going to count my chocobos before they hatch.
Still…I feel strangely good. So I make my own breakfast—some pancakes and sausage—and am just finishing up when Rush comes down the hall.
“You see Fred this morning?” he asks, rubbing his eyes.
I shake my head. “Nope. Must be out, I guess.”
Rush looks at me, then at the pan with my frying batter.
“Want some?” I offer. “I know they’re not Freddie-grade, but—”
“Since when do you make breakfast?” he asks skeptically.
Since I’ve decided I’m going to embrace these feelings for Nora instead of fighting them.
I narrow my eyes at my brother. “I’m pretty sure a five-year-old can make pancakes, but if you don’t want them…”
“No!” Rush holds his hands up as I flip the pancakes onto a plate and slowly push the plate to him across the counter. “No, I’ll take them. I’m fucking starving.”
I let out a laugh as he grabs a fork and practically devours them.
“Rough night?” I ask as I set about to making my own plate.
Rush tenses. “Kind of.”
I debate if I should say something to him. About the fact that I saw him kiss Nora. Or maybe I should just let it go because he does look a little worse for wear this morning.
“Can I…help?”
Russ looks up at me, a soft smile pulling at his lips. “Don’t think so, kid, but I appreciate the offer.”
When I’m done flipping my pancakes, I sit with him to eat, noticing how he watches me.
“What?” I stab a pancake.
“I don’t know what crawled up your ass, but…” He gives me a smirk. “It’s nice. Seeing you happy and not all mopey.”
“I do not mope,” I bite back.
He laughs. “You definitely mope, but it’s okay. All I’m saying is it’s nice see you excited and happy and whatever it is…” He twists his lips and shrugs. “Or whoever it is…”
I feel my cheeks blush, and he grins. “Ah…so it is a girl.”
I don’t know if I can admit to him that it’s Nora, all things considered, but I also know how good it felt to talk about things with her, so maybe…maybe talking to Rush could be helpful? I mean…he is a lot more well-versed in romancing women than I am.
Yeah, and he’s also romanced the woman you’re trying to romance.
Which is both good and bad.
“Maybe,” I admit with a shrug.
Russ smiles wide as he grabs my shoulder. “Yes! I knew it!” he says enthusiastically. “That’s awesome, Tommy. Seriously.” I give him a smile of my own as he says, “Tell me everything.”
I can’t help but feel a warmth in my chest. Part of me wants to tell him everything. But the other part isn’t ready to lay my cards out yet. There’s a big difference between bringing someone coffee and dating them. Asking them out.
“Nothing to tell yet,” I say honestly. “It’s kind of…new.”
There, that’s safe. Not a lie either. These feelings I have for Nora might not be new, but venturing out to see her…asking her out…on a date…that’s definitely new.
It’s been years since I asked a woman that wasn’t Chloe to hang out. And suddenly the nerves kick in.
“Hey…” Russ’s hand on my shoulder loosens its grip. “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot, man…”
“It’s fine,” I say, tensing as I look up at him. “Just a little nervous.”
Russ gives me a warm smile. “Nerves are good. They keep you on your toes. But you don’t have anything to be nervous about, Tommy Boy. You’re a Sterling. Pussy runs in our blood. You got this.”
It’s the way he says it. Like it’s just easy. Like all I have to do is just be…me. Thomas Edward Sterling.
Like that’s enough.
Maybe it is enough. I guess I’ll never know until I try, right?
“Thanks, Russ,” I say as he lets go of me and finishes his pancakes, leaving me with a newfound confidence.
I’ve been to the Hairtopia Salon a few times with my mom, so I know the place opens early.
And even though everyone thinks I don’t listen to conversations, I do.
I know Nora works a set schedule and has for the last two years, so I know she’ll be in at ten.
Since I’m off from school today, I have more than enough time to adequately prepare for what I want to do.
I only pray that when I show up with this coffee and pastry, Russ is right.
Because I don’t know if I could take Nora shooting me down when I feel so good. That would suck for sure.
I would understand. If she says no, she doesn’t want to hang out or go on a date with me, I would totally understand. She did just get out of a relationship and seems to be going through something.
But I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t be disappointed.
Something tells me she won’t, though. I don’t know if it’s wishful thinking or if it’s just false confidence. Maybe self-preservation? But whatever it is, I hold on to it.
I know she likes a caramel latte best, if only because I’ve heard her say it in conversation before.
I’m not much of a coffee drinker, I prefer tea over coffee any day, so I grab myself a hot chai and grab her a caramel latte and then I grab a small bag of pastries—because I’m not sure which one she likes so I grab all three Danishes they have at the Cool Cat Café.
The whole drive to the salon from the café takes barely fifteen minutes, but it feels like an eternity, and when I arrive, I see Nora’s car in the parking lot, so I know she’s here.
I don’t see many other cars, but it’s still early, barely a quarter to ten, so the shops bordering Hairtopia might not all be open yet.
Here goes nothing, I tell myself as I grab the coffee carrier and the bag of pastries and get out of my truck. The cool air kisses my face, a balm to my soul as I try to focus on my footsteps and not the swirling, uneasy feeling in my stomach.
I carefully balance the bag of pastries in my arm and open the door, the jingle sounding to let the shop know someone’s arrived.
“Be right with you,” Nora calls out from behind the counter. I look around, but I don’t see anyone else. Pam—the owner—who’s my mom’s stylist and close friend, is usually in early, but I don’t see or hear her.
I glance at the stations, noting that they’re all bare, so it doesn’t look like anyone else is here yet.
“Take your time, I’m just—”
Nora’s gaze finds mine as she looks up, her eyebrows raising.
“Tommy?” she breathes, and I swear the sound of her voice goes straight to my dick.
I shift my weight because that’s not what I need right now. I knew I should have masturbated this morning in the shower, but I was too excited about my plan to focus on my dick.
All I wanted was to get here.
To see Nora.
To ask her out on a date.
“Good morning,” I say awkwardly as the image from her photo rushes into my brain, making my dick jump in my pants.
Think unsexy thoughts, think unsexy thoughts…
“I uh…” I swallow nervously, all the confidence I’d somehow mustered now dissipating. “Thought you could use some coffee? Maybe a Danish?”
I hold the carrier out. “Caramel latte,” I say like an idiot. “I got you one.”
Nora’s bright blue eyes sparkle at she looks from the cup to me.
“I love caramel lattes,” she says softly as she plucks the cup from the carrier. “They’re my favorite.”
I feel my body start to heat as she looks at me; then she takes a sip of the coffee and moans in delight.
I swear, it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.
When she was on the couch with Russ, those moans made me come, and now, here…
my mind wants to conjure up all sorts of different ways I could get her to make that sound, not all of them sexual, but…
Most of them are sexual, if I’m being honest.
“I know,” I say softly. “I know lots of things about you.”
I realize how creepy that sounds, so I try to recover with, “Not that I’m like, obsessed with you or anything, I just…pay attention to things. Details.”
She takes another sip of her coffee, and I set the carrier down on her counter, if only to offer her the bag of Danishes.
I don’t miss the blush in her cheeks.
“It’s okay, I know what you mean.” She smiles.
“However, I don’t know what kind of Danish you like, so I got all three and figured you could pick which one you want,” I say, opening the bag. She peeks inside.
“Or you could have them all,” I add. “If you want.” She looks up at me, her cheeks pink and her eyes wide. “I mean, why choose, right? I’m sure they’re all good.”
Nora lets out a heavy sigh as she asks, “Which one would you pick?”
I think about her question. I’m not really much of a sweets guy—that’s Russ’s addiction, not mine.
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I’ve never tried any of them.”
“Never?” she asks. “You telling me you’ve never had a Danish?”
I shake my head as she stares at me in disbelief.
“No cherry, cheese, blueberry, or anything?”
“Nope.” I shrug. “When I was a kid, my mom went through this thing where she thought gluten was like the devil for kids like me…”
I stop as Nora looks at me in question. “Kids like you?”