“You were afraid you were going to be murdered. When you told me you finally accepted coffee last night, I had to come make sure you don’t die.”
“You’re here!”
“I’m here!” She holds her hands out to her sides. “Is that what you’re wearing?”
“Wearing?” I look down at my jean shorts and tank top. “For what?”
“Your date. You can’t wear that. You look homeless.”
“I’m not going on a date. You’re here!”
“I’m here because you’re going on a date. Now move because we have a lot of work to do and you’re already going to be late.”
Sarah shoves past me, tugging her rolling suitcase behind her.
“I can reschedule with him.” If I’m being honest, I’ve been freaking out and trying to think of a good enough excuse to cancel, anyway. With her here, and us having so much to catch up on, it’s the perfect excuse.
“You are not canceling. Now to the bathroom. If you’re going to try blue eyeshadow, you have to do it right. This eighties mess you have going on will scare him away.”
It takes twenty minutes, a dozen pep talks, and the threat of telling building management about Simon before I agree to continue with my plans today.
“I’ll walk in first and get a vibe for the place. If I see any nerdy creepers hanging around, I’ll shoot you an abort text,” Sarah assures me as we climb on the elevator. “And quit gripping your dress like that. You’re going to wrinkle it.”
“Not my dress,” I mumble.
Of course my best friend showed up prepared for my lacking wardrobe with different dresses for me to try on. And of course, each one was more risqué than the one before it. I argued that it’s mid-afternoon and we weren’t going to a club or finding a street corner to stand on, but she wouldn’t listen to any of it. Apparently, dresses are for all times of the day and all occasions.
I grow even more nervous on the short walk to the small café. It’s literally on the same block as my building, but I’ve never been down here.
“Give me two minutes,” Sarah says with a quick pat on my arm. She disappears inside before I can argue and change my mind.
I stand near the wall so long, I expect her to come back out looking for me, but I get a text instead.
Sarah: There are a few guys in here, but there’s one I’m hoping isn’t here for you.
Me: He’s creepy and nerdy?
Sarah: More like fucking hot and yummy.
Me: What would Monroe think if he heard you talking that way?
I honestly know what her bi-sexual boyfriend would say. Probably something along the lines of dibs.
See, my best friend Sarah lives a very sexually free life. I met her online, but I didn’t meet her while gaming. She was a forum leader on a website for people with different tastes. I’ve been able to explore many different parts of myself because of her. Because of her, I know I can appreciate a woman’s body, but I’m not sexually attracted to the same sex. I know I like things a little on the wild side even though I haven’t practiced any of that stuff recently. I know I like it when a guy—
Sarah: Get in here or I’m grabbing this one for myself!
I move on instinct. Did I forget to mention Sarah is a Domme?
I chuckle at the idea of obeying her. Submission isn’t really my kink, but hey, it takes all kinds for the world to spin around, right?
I laser focus on the front counter. I told him about my hair, and he gave me nothing, which means he has to approach me, not the other way around. I can see Sarah out of my periphery, but I don’t look at her directly. Jesus, how embarrassing would it be if this guy saw me walk in and decided to slip out the back? My ego would take a massive hit if that happened, especially after weeks of incessant begging to meet up.
“When you mentioned purple hair, I was hoping it was you. My fingers have been crossed all day.”
I spin around to face the man speaking to me and nearly show my hand by squealing as much as I did when I spotted Sarah through my peephole earlier.
“Y-you’re Wasp?”
He nods, his perfect teeth digging into his bottom lip. It draws nearly all of my focus.
“Can I get you a drink?”
“Huh?”
I flirted with this guy yesterday. That interaction on the elevator made me want to get out and live more. That interaction was why I told Wasp I’d finally meet him, and now I’m standing here like someone who just had a lobotomy.
“A drink? Coffee? Tea? Soda? Maybe a sandwich? They have an excellent pita here.”
“Tea,” I hiss out, feeling like a fool. “Iced green tea.”
I reach for my wallet, but he presses his palm to the top of my arm. “Find us a seat. I got this.”
I turn around, my back to him and look around for Sarah. She’s wide-eyed and grinning when my eyes land on her.
He’s so fucking hot, she mouths.
Is this my life right now? I mouth back.
There are several empty tables available, and I choose the one close to another couple because others seem to be working away on laptops, and I don’t want to bother them while they’re working. Besides, I know some people come to coffee shops to listen to gossip, and the very last thing I need is for my story to end up in some book.
“I can’t believe it’s actually you,” I tell him when he approaches with both of our drinks.
“I’m a little stunned myself.”
“Can I be honest?”
“This never goes well.”
I dip my head, wrapping my lips around my straw, pulling a long sip into my mouth before looking back up at him.
“I was feeling guilty for flirting with you last
