Ollie #2
“Oh, uh…” He scratches the back of his head. “Actually, it was for me.”
I huff a laugh. “Well, there aren’t a lot of things in this world that make me speechless, but you just did.”
He chuckles. “Yeah…”
“Any reason you didn’t just say that?”
Shrugging, he says, “Doesn’t fit my image.”
“If there is any place to do something that doesn’t fit your image, this is it. So, are you here to buy another book?” I ask hopefully. Not because I want the money, but because I want to know what else he’ll choose.
“Yes. And I’d also like to ask you out for coffee.”
A choked sound escapes my throat. “You are two for two and you’ve been in here less than five minutes. I am impressed.” I lean in closer. “You do know I’m a boy, right? The hair can be confusing, but—”
“Oh, I know,” he says, and I swear his gaze heats.
Probably not. But I like to think it did.
I grin, biting my bottom lip.
I’m pretty good at spotting gay guys. Kind of have to be, being one and all. But I wasn’t getting the vibes from him.
“Okay, sure. Coffee sounds great.”
“Today? After work? I’m off at five.”
What I want to say is “I could get you off at five, probably in five,” but that seems a little much. I’m on the clock and don’t want to harass the customers. So instead, I just agree that it’s the perfect time and suggest we meet at The Sleepy Rooster a few blocks down.
He smiles, agrees, then grabs a random book without reading the back and brings it to the counter, where Franny rings him up. As he leaves, he gives me a private smile, and butterflies go crazy in my stomach.
“What are you so happy about?” Franny asks.
I squeal, grabbing onto her arms and shaking her.
“That’s the hot guy I told you about the other day! The one who bought the book from the Hot Girls Read display?” She nods. “He came back in here to ask. Me. Out. I’m freaking out!”
“Oh my god, did you say yes?”
“Of course I said yes!”
The rest of the day drags because all I can think about is Mister Hot Girl.
I feel stupid for not asking his name, then realize he doesn’t know mine either, then realize I’m wearing a name tag, so he probably does know my name.
I need to calm down and think straight. I don’t need to show up for this coffee date sounding like a blubbering idiot, just because I’m excited that he asked me out.
Sierra relieves me at 4:30, and I head to the bathroom to make sure I look okay.
I’m so glad I wore this sweater today. It’s oversized and emerald-green—which looks amazing with my hair.
I touch up my eyeliner just a little, not wanting it to be too dark, but dark enough that my eyes pop more.
I add some lip gloss and then I’m out, waving at Sierra and Franny, who are whispering to each other, no doubt wondering if I’m going to get lucky tonight.
“I’m not that easy!” I call out as I reach the door.
“Yeah, right!” Sierra shouts back.
I laugh as I head out into the cool air, toward the coffee shop.
* * *
“You’re kidding,” I say, absolutely shocked.
He shakes his head, smiling hard. His cheeks are a little rosy from laughing.
“I’m not, but I wish I was.”
“I mean, yeah—that’s, wow. What did he say?”
“Well, he kind of just stood there, staring like he didn’t know what to make of me. I mean, he just caught his teenage son reading a romance book when he probably thought he’d catch me watching porn.”
I laugh again.
“Did he feel stupid for breaking into your room?”
“Extremely,” he says with a chuckle, reaching for his coffee, only to realize it’s empty.
It’s been empty for a while. Mine too. I glance at the clock. It’s almost nine.
“Oh, wow. We’ve been here for hours. They’re closing in twenty minutes.”
“What? No way.” He looks at his phone, and his eyes go wide. “Damn.”
“I know.” I bite my bottom lip and stare, unable to look away.
“Time flies when you’re having fun, right?”
“Right.”
The more I talk to him, the more I like him. The hotter he is. He’s funny and smart, and those are the two things that attract me most to a man. Never mind his physical looks, which check every single box that I have.
“We should go,” I say quietly. “Not that I want to, but—”
“I don’t want to either.”
But we both get up, clear our mess, and he shoves some more money into the tip jar. The girl behind the counter smiles and waves us off.
It’s dark outside. When did that happen? How were we so caught up in ourselves that I didn’t realize night had fallen?
“Are you good to get home?” he asks.
“Yeah, I’ll walk back to the bookstore and grab a rideshare.”
“Can I walk with you?”
My stomach gets all warm.
“Yes.”
We walk back to the bookstore, our arms brushing, the night air a little colder than earlier when the sun was up. I’m comfortable though. When we get to the storefront, I order a ride.
“I had fun tonight,” Mason says—I finally asked for his name when we met at the café and tried not to feel stupid about it.
“Me too.”
We make small talk about having to work the next day while we wait for my car, and when it pulls up, Mason leans in and presses the gentlest kiss on my cheek.
“Good night, Ollie,” he whispers.
It startles me, but my skin tingles all the way home.
* * *
I realized when I got home that night that we didn’t exchange numbers. Why am I so bad at this? First, I don’t ask his name. Then, I don’t ask for his number. Rough. I suck.
Thankfully, Mason just shows up at work again. Same time in the afternoon as usual.
“Hey, you,” I say with a smile as I scan books to checkout for the woman at the counter. She’s here often, always buying the newest releases of every genre. She’s a certified bookworm.
Mason smiles his hello, then busies himself looking over the Hot Girls Reads display that is still up. It’ll be up until the end of the month because it’s been doing so well.
“You’re total will be $87.43.”
The woman taps her card to the reader. The payment processes. She takes her bag as I wish her a good day.
Mason makes his way over to the counter.
“I think I need help finding a book.”
“Have you ever read gay romance?” I ask.
“Yeah, of course. I just… didn’t like it much.”
My eyes widen. “How the hell not?”
His cheeks turn a little red, and he says, “I’m not sure how to say this without sounding like a dick.”
I narrow my eyes. “Just say it. I promise my skin is thick.”
“All the men were not… very… masculine. I like feminine guys, but I like them with a masculine guy, and I just didn’t find that.”
My dick twitches at that admission. It’s not what I expected him to say, but now all I can think about is him dominating me, being all rough and masculine.
Don’t hate that image one bit, except for the fact that I’m at work and this isn’t the time nor the place for my dick to get hard.
But I am about to invite him to my place.
No, too soon.
“Right,” I say carefully, thinking back to the books he’s chosen and a few others that he mentioned he’s read over the years, usually in secret. “Let me help you with that.” I move around the counter. “Follow me.”
I feel his gaze on me as we walk through the store and toward the wall that is full of LGBTQ romance books, and I hope like hell he’s looking at my ass. It’s nice, if I do say so myself. Maybe he’ll invite me to his house instead.
He came back after our coffee date, so that has to mean something, right? He’s definitely not just here for a book. It’s me, right? It has to be me.