Chapter 8
Emma
"$6.75 please," I tell the woman, after typing in her order for a small soy latte.
"For coffee?"
"For a soy milk latte. Did you, umm, want plain coffee instead? Did I get your order wrong?" I ask awkwardly. I know I didn't but I hate when people make a scene over the price of coffee. I mean, she's holding a small dog in a rhinestone encrusted pink purse. Not to judge, but I think she can afford it.
She slips her credit card into the machine and makes an elaborate tap on the "no tip" button, talking about me under her breath. I keep a small smile on my face and when she moves to the side I look up at my next customer, surprised I didn't hear him come in.
Usually I know the second he opens the door. Partly because there's a shift in the room, whether he wants it or not, he absorbs the attention of everyone around him. I know when he's close, I can feel him. But the coffee shop is busy today, and I'm frazzled. It seems like every customer I've dealt with has needed something extra, and when I'm alone, it's hard to manage.
I typically work the morning shifts but Alice offered to switch, because of my date last night. I wasn't expecting to see Raze, since I wasn't here this morning and he usually comes in before heading to the gym.
He leans into the counter, "Don't worry about me, go, do what you need. I'll wait." He's giving me a minute to catch up. I'm grateful, so I make the two iced coffees and the bitchy small dog lady's latte and pass them out. Dog lady is leaning into Raze's space, trying to make small talk but he's ignoring her. That shouldn't give me pleasure, but it does.
I try to hand her the coffee but I have to interrupt, and I can't manage to make a sound loud enough to get her attention. Raze looks down at her, "She's talking to you, lady," in an annoyed voice, gesturing toward me.
You'd think I interrupted her during foreplay by the look she gives me, but I hand off her latte and move on to the next customer. Raze let's three more people go ahead of him, while he leans against the wall next to the counter. Out of the way but also completely distracting.
People either admire the view or compliment him on his last match, or say they're rooting for him and renting his next fight on TV. I should probably learn more about what they're talking about.
Finally everything dies down and I start to make Raze a drink. I don't tell him what it is but I've learned a little more about his diet. I don't know if he'll like this, but it's caffeine-free, so I strain a strong herbal tea that tastes oddly similar to coffee and steam it with organic oatmilk.
He assumes I'm making something for another customer, so I surprise him when I hand it over. "It's just herbs and oatmilk and a little honey. Are those all okay for you to have?"
His look is penetrating, but appreciative. He takes a small sip, never lifting his gaze from me. "It's perfect, Emma. Thank you."
I give him a smirk and start to clean up a bit. I might have felt awkward or shy had the shop been empty when he got here. Fortunately I was too distracted by work to get caught up in seeing him for the first time in the daylight since I had his dick in my mouth.
I wipe a coffee ring off the counter top and thoughts of last night are creeping in. I'm getting turned on, heat growing in my lower abdomen, and there's nothing I can do about it. There's no one at the counter but there are people still in the shop.
I can't bring myself to look at him, and it takes me a minute to realize, that's what he's waiting for. Patiently. This is the old Emma, the one who couldn't look at him directly. But that was before going down on him. Now I can be a mature adult and make eye contact. I've been stalling so I drop the rag in a bucket, square my shoulders and turn to face him. There's an amused glint in his eye.
I ignore the bubbling nerves and say, "I wasn't sure when I was going to see you again."
"Is tonight okay?" He's still leaning casually against the wall next to the counter, wearing a compression sleeve shirt and joggers, all fitted and showing off his incredibly ripped body. Now I can’t stop staring.
"Oh… umm, sure. What do you want to do?"
"We could just hang out, watch a movie."
"I could cook this time? Do you want to come over, and we can watch a movie after?"
I hope inviting him over doesn’t imply I’m ready to do… more stuff. I am. But, maybe not. I open my mouth in an attempt to backtrack, but he beats me to it.
"That's perfect. Dinner and a movie. I'll pick up some stuff, we can cook together." Sensing my hesitation, he adds, "Don't worry. We'll just hang out. No pressure." Referencing my obnoxious confession from last night leaves me slightly mortified, but I try not to dwell.
I appreciate that he can read me so well, though I don't know how he does it. I just nod and squeak out a "thanks." He drops a ten on the counter and walks off before I can argue.
* * *
It's after 6 pm by the time Raze comes over. I direct him to the back entrance and run downstairs to let him in when he texts me that he's here.
I give him a small wave, and, like a real dumb ass, turn around and scurry up the stairs ahead of him. His heavy steps stalk more slowly, and I'm waiting in the kitchen facing the door by the time he enters the apartment. I shouldn't be nervous again, but I am.
"Hey," he takes a step closer and kisses my cheek before walking into the kitchen, setting the bag he's carrying on the kitchen counter.
The sun is still out but I turn on all the lights in the kitchen-slash-living room anyway, maybe to give me something to do. Or maybe, if I'm being honest with myself, to create a little bit of distance, because as much as I want to jump on top of him, I'm not ready. So mood lighting is out.
"I brought stuff to make chicken stir fry, is that okay?" He starts pulling everything out of the bag, making himself at home. He's relaxed and I realize how much that helps me feel relaxed too. Was it just yesterday I was picturing him here, in my apartment, looking like he fits into my life? That feels so long ago now.
I tell him it's perfect, and pull out a cutting board. We cook together and talk about our day. I make a point to ask him about the televised fight, even though he's shared with me his goals and where he is in the league, I don't really know the specifics of what he's got coming up.
He asks me about the coffee shop and about my relationship with Greg, the owner.
"It just seems like you do a lot for him. I hope he's taking care of you," Raze comments as we carry our plates to the table and sit down to eat.
Greg is hard to explain, but I attempt to. He definitely relies on me too much, but I also like the control. Maybe there's a kernel of truth as Raze implies Greg takes advantage of me, but he doesn't push and it would bother me if he did. I get something out of my arrangement with Greg, too, even if he doesn't see it.
We finish eating and he leans back in his chair, asking, "So if you weren't at the coffee shop, what would you want to do? What do you love to do in your free time that you could make a living at?"
I pick up my wine glass and take a big sip. Raze is drinking water so I have to be careful not to drink the entire bottle myself.
Should I be honest? I shouldn’t even have to ask myself that, because I already know I want to be. I tried pushing him away last night by telling him that I had sexual fantasies about him and watched porn to learn how to give a blow job, even though I didn't even have someone to give one to, and he didn't run, and he didn’t call me a freak and run away like my last boyfriend.
I set down my glass and finally say, "I write. I like to write. Kind of."
"No shit? That's amazing, I didn't know that. What do you write?"
"Uhmm…" I refill my wine glass from the bottle on the table, waiting to see if Raze gets distracted and talks about something else. I should know better though, I'm learning that's not how he is. Raze is not self absorbed and all his attention is on me.
"I… I have a blog. I review romance novels. And erotica novels. It's just for fun though." I sip the wine so I don’t have to keep talking.
It's a big deal for me to tell him this, that I review erotica novels, which means of course that I read erotica. Yet he's not surprised or shocked—does nothing shock this man?
"That's really fucking cool. And interesting, but I think I can picture it. How long have you been doing that?"
"It's been about a year. I love to read, and I started a website just to kind of empty my brain because I'd feel full of all these ideas and emotions. After a while I realized it was a good outlet for me to alleviate some of my… I don't know how to describe it. I told you last night I have fantasies?" I can feel how hot my cheeks are getting, I'm sure I'm as red as a tomato. Still, I soldier on.
He clears his throat, "Yeah…"
"Well writing and reviewing these books, it's like releasing a pressure valve. It helps take the edge off. And I love it. I also have a section on my site that lets newbie authors post short stories that get pretty kinky."
He laughs, "You always surprise me. So do you want to turn it into a career or something?"
"No, I don't think so. Well, that would be awesome actually, but it's a lot of work and I'm not sure I'm up for it. Anyway," I swirl my wine glass hoping for a subject change. It works.
We end up talking for so long we never get to the movie, but I'm not disappointed. Eventually we kiss goodnight, and while it's not PG, we don't do more than kiss. He tells me he wants to bring over food to cook for dinner tomorrow and try again for the movie. At the end of the night, we say goodbye and I'm so head over heels, I'm surprised I haven't literally fallen over.
* * *
The clock is ticking. I need to get to work but I'm in such a feverish state with my writing today, I don't want to stop until the last possible moment. I wish there was someone I could call in sick to, aside from Alice. Maybe I could call Greg and ask him if I could hire another employee. It can be a little exhausting being the only one the coffee shop relies on. Fortunately it's not open very many hours, so I shouldn't complain.
I've read three different books this week, all by the same author, which is atypical for me, usually I try to mix it up. But this author, previously self-published, has her first traditionally-published novel coming out soon. I've been asked to review it for World Reads, a huge online organization that helps readers navigate the billions of content available. It's kind of a big deal to be asked, actually.
I wanted to get a feel for her writing, and so far I like it. It's sarcastic and edgy, which I like. Things I'm not, but I love to be transported into a fantasy world where maybe I could be. Her books lean into the paranormal, and the romance is sweet, not over-the-top steamy, which is a nice change of pace.
Most of the romance novels I read these days move along pleasantly and then bam! Super graphic sex scene. And I love those. But it's becoming more and more common, and being surprised with a more reserved or conservative author is kinda sweet. Of course, it hasn't helped me with my own predicament.
Raze. He's come over every night for the past few days. We cook together from ingredients he brings over and watch a movie, which we end up talking through until it's late and he has to go.
It's so strange, we talk about everything from mundane to deep and it feels like I've known him for years. We get along so well, and somehow we still haven't broached his no-talking-about-the-past rule. We haven't done more than kiss, but being around him is fucking heady.
He went from starring in my every sexual fantasy to dominating them. I don't have to zone out or dream in bed at night about him taking me against the coffee shop counter. Nope, now he's invading my waking thoughts. I'll be in the middle of steaming a latte or straining a pot of coffee and am bombarded with an onslaught of hedonistic thoughts. It's too much. I'm ready to do more than kiss but I don't know how to make a move.
The bang on my door startles me, because no one ever knocks on my door. They can't, since the only entrances are downstairs near the street or in the coffee shop, which means, it's Alice.
I get up and unlock it and she walks past me. I quickly scurry back and close my laptop so she doesn't see the book I'm reading. I don't know why, it isn't sexually explicit. But I like to keep my Heart Thief life separate.
"Whatcha doin'?" She asks, blonde ponytail bouncing as she makes her way over to the kitchen.
"Wait, shouldn't you be downstairs? Who's watching the shop?"
"Relax, no one's down there. I locked the door and put in the 'back in 15' sign."
"We don't have a 'back in 15' sign," I say, eyeing her suspiciously.
"Ha! You don't. Anyway, how was your date last night?" She asks after hopping up on the counter, swinging her feet against my vintage, brightly painted cabinets. We haven't had a chance to catch up since my first disaster date with Raze, but we've texted and she knows I've seen him a few more times this week.
I feel my cheeks burn and I can't help the grin I try to hide by biting my lip.
"Oooh! Do tell!" She claps, making me laugh.
"Still better than the first. He took me on a picnic a few nights ago and mostly we just hang out and cook and watch movies."
She cocks her head in shock, dropping her jaw. "For real? A fucking picnic? Who is this dude?"
"I know! And we were at the ocean and it was so romantic. And I haven't stuttered around him since last week! Actually, it's weird, I feel like I've known him forever. Conversation is so easy with him. I really like him, Alice."
"Why do you say that like it's a bad thing? This is great news!"
A tilt my head. "Be realistic. Look at him. And I'm…"
"Yeah…?"
"I'm just me. I don't know. I'm so plain next to him. Why the hell is he into me?"
"Are you blind or stupid? I can't tell. With those glasses of yours, maybe you're blind." She taps her chin with her finger.
I frown and cross my arms in response, leaning against the kitchen table. "Be serious."
"Em. You're a fucking knock-out. And even better, you hide it, you don't flaunt it. I know you've been asked out while at work, had guys slip you their number."
"I'm—" I mean, yeah, they have. But only because I'm a female, and some guys will ask out anyone with tits. "I don't know why, but it hasn't happened that much. Maybe it's because I make great coffee."
"Okay, I'm not going to touch that. As for Raze, you said yourself you have great chemistry. And you haven't been on a date in…" she starts counting off her fingers, "how many years?"
"Okay, I get it."
"No, you don't." She hops back off the counter and moves to the door. "Don't sell yourself short. You're cool as fuck. And you're hot. Don't overthink it. Let it be a good thing in your life that maybe helps drag you out of your shell."
"I like my shell."
This earns me a half-smile. "Alright, I'll go unlock. You coming down to relieve me soon?"
"Yeah, sorry. I'll be right there."
She heads back down the stairs, leaving my door ajar. She doesn't get it though. It's not just because I think I'm playing way out of my league with Raze, which I am. I tried to be honest with him this week, but I barely scratched the surface of my depravity. And I could never bring myself to share that part of me with Alice, to try and get her opinion.
Still, he didn't flinch when I tried to explain the extent of my interest, and he said he reciprocated. And his body… his cock… oh, it's so fucking beautiful. And thick. Having him in my mouth was exhilarating. I felt powerful. In control.
After all this time, the guy I've been fantasizing about for a year actually took me on a date and I, without hesitation, gave him a blow job. Even if we haven't done much physically since, it feels like we're right on the precipice. Maybe I should focus on the good for now, and not worry about how it could all go horribly wrong.