Page 6 of Save the Game

“And you’re Max Kuemper,” I fill in, since he hasn’t introduced himself. I nudge the pie a little closer to him; he’s gripping the fork but has yet to take a bite. “Future NHL star and current SCU one. I should have you sign my order pad.”

I’m hoping for a laugh, but he only looks embarrassed. Swing and a miss, Luke. I point at the pie. “Do you not like cherry? I can bring you something else.”

“Oh. Cherry is fine.” As though to prove his point, he cuts off a minuscule portion and puts it into his mouth, chewing mechanically. “Thank you.”

“No problem. That piece is yours, so have at it.” I point at the larger slice. “So, I was wondering, how would you feel about grabbing dinner sometime?”

The silence stretches much longer this time around, as though he suddenly lost the ability to grasp the English language. To give himself some time, he puts another bite of pie in his mouth and chases it down with some coffee. Those eyes really are extraordinary.

“You want to grab dinner,” he repeats.

“Sure do. Unless you’re straight, that is. In which case, my loss.” I grin at him. He looks down at the pie.

“No,” he says carefully, “I’m not. You didn’t know that?”

“Nope. And let me just say, you’re not setting off any gaydar, either. If you’re shooting for straight vibes, you’re doing an admirable job.”

“Wait. You thought I was straight and yet, you came over to ask me to dinner?”

“Sure.” I shrug, wishing I’d thought to bring myself over a glass of water. “Figured I’d shoot my shot; if you weren’t into dudes, no harm done and we could just enjoy our pie and talk about…Dostoyevsky? Are you seriously reading that, or are you just trying to impress me?”

He laughs and shakes his head. “You caught me. I’ve been visiting all the overnight establishments looking for you, just so I could sit here and impress you with my literary taste.”

“Well done. I’m very impressed. And now that we’ve established that you’re into me, how about dinner?”

Another startled laugh, and another shake of his head. “Do you do this a lot? Ask out random men?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Because…I don’t know. People don’t do that. I’ve never asked someone out without first ascertaining they were at least interested in men.”

“Mm. Okay, hypothetical scenario here. Let’s say a young lady walks up to you and asks you to grab coffee sometime. Do you get offended?” I wait for him to shake his head. “No, of course not! You kindly tell her, I’m flattered by your offer, miss, but I prefer sausage to tacos.”

He sputters as he takes a sip of coffee. “That is not what I would say.”

“The point is, it’s a compliment when someone asks you out. No need to get worked up if you don’t play for the same team.” I shrug, nonchalantly. “Now, stop dodging the question. Dinner. When are you free?”

“Why…we literally just met. You don’t even know me.”

“Right. That’s what dinner is for. So that I can get to know you.” He runs a hand through his copper hair. Or at least he tries, but hits a snag and can’t make it all the way through. He pulls his hand away and leaves his hair looking even messier than before.

“I feel like you’re fucking with me right now,” he says, narrowing his eyes at me.

“I’m really not.” Pulling my order pad out of my apron pocket, I jot down my phone number. I write my name—Luke Kelly, baseball star and total babe—and slide it over the table to him. He glances down at it, reads what I wrote, and his mouth twitches into half of a smile. “There. I do have to go back to work, but now you have my number. Text me, or call me, or FaceTime me. We can get to know each other and plan that dinner. Yeah?”

“Are you insane?” He asks, leaning across the table toward me.

“You’ll have to go to dinner with me to find out.”

He huffs an incredulous laugh and shakes his head. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Text me.” I slide out of the booth, and point a finger at him, threateningly. He makes a show of pulling his phone out and inputting my number.

Whistling cheerfully, I leave the pie for him to finish and head back to the kitchen. Before I can even push through the double doors, my phone chimes with a text. Smiling, I pull my phone out and see a message from an unknown number.

---