Page 32 of Eternal Hoptimist

I carefully slid out of bed and went to make coffee after using the bathroom. I wanted to give myself at least a few minutes to clear my head before facing him.

While a full pot of coffee brewed, I sat in the only piece of furniture I genuinely liked and looked out the window. The gray clouds blocked my view of Mount Hood, but I got to enjoy the rushing river below, full after a rainy week. I’d always loved the view, but the way Ethan admired it last night gave me a new appreciation.

A few minutes later, I heard Ethan shuffling around. I pulled out creamer and sugar since I wasn’t sure how he took his coffee. The urge to know how he took it startled me. I wanted to have the perfect cup of coffee waiting for him to thank him for everything he did for me last night.

What if he came out wearing regular clothes and immediately left? I hadn’t really imagined the morning. It wasn’t a post-hookup exit, but somehow, sharing a bed without sex made it more awkward. Maybe it would be for the best if he left, but part of me wanted him to stay for breakfast to have more time together. I would never get this kind of time with him again unless he stayed over after the gala.

Despite the weird origin of our meeting, we’d become friends. He was fun to text with, and I genuinely enjoyed spending time with him. It didn’t hurt that looking at him sent my heart and libido into overdrive.

As I poured two cups of coffee, Ethan came shuffling out of the hallway in his sleep clothes, all rumpled and cute. A crease marred his cheek, and his face scrunched.Morning grouch energy rolled off him in waves.

Nate wasn’t a morning guy either, so I knew what to do. I smiled at Ethan, silently handed him a cup of coffee, gestured to the cream and sugar, then went and sat on the couch. I watched Ethan doctor his drink before joining me. He sat more in the middle than on the opposite side, which helped some of the tension in my shoulders escape.

We sat in silence for several minutes until he eventually spoke. “Thanks for the coffee.” His voice had a raspy tinge to it.

“You’re welcome. I hope it tastes okay.”

“It’s perfect. Almost as good as Dave’s.”

“I’ll have to try it the next time I’m in town.” A lot had changed since I moved away from Dahlia Springs over fifteen years ago. A lot had improved.

After a few more minutes of comfortable silence, I refilled my coffee. Ethan followed with more energy in his walk.

“Thanks for not chatting my ear off before the caffeine hit my veins.” One side of his mouth lifted in a sleepy smile. The intimacy of that smile bowled me over. Everyone saw his wide, beaming ones, but I got to cherish that subdued smile.

“My brother needs morning quiet before caffeine, so I’m used to it. I expected you to be a morning guy since you’re so happy all the time.”

Ethan grunted. “Even sunshine needs caffeine before it goes to work.”

I laughed. “Fair enough.”

“It’s rarely ever quiet in the morning where I live. There’s always someone running their mouth before I’ve even hit the coffee pot.”

We’d talked about many things over text, but never his specific living situation. I thought he lived with one of his fellow brewery owners. “How many roommates do you have?”

“The other brewery owners and I all share a house. It’s college all over again.”

While we stood in my kitchen, drinking our second cup of coffee, Ethan gave me the CliffsNotes version of the Tap That Brewery origins. Meeting the guys in college, becoming best friends, nurturing a dream of opening a brewery together, his inheritance making it a reality, and how Dom bought a house and let them live with him to keep costs low while establishing their business.

I never had friends I wanted to liveandwork with. I couldn't imagine loving people that much. Hector was great, but I didn’t want to live and work with the guy.

“Do you have time to stay for breakfast? I’ve got stuff for bell pepper omelets.”

As if on cue, Ethan’s stomach growled. “That sounds perfect. Any leftover cheesecake?”

I chuckled. “I think so.”

Ethan sat at the kitchen counter, licking cheesecake off a fork, while I tried not to get distracted by his tongue and accidentally cut myself instead of the bell pepper.

“So, you inherited money and used it for the brewery?”

Ethan’s face twisted like he tasted something sour. Too heavy of a topic for breakfast, but I wanted to talk to him while we were together. Our texting was great, but I wanted toseehim while we talked.

He jabbed his fork into the cheesecake repeatedly. “My grandfather was a prick. He valued people based on their jobs and how much money they made, not what kind of people they were.”

I understood that all too well. I worked with about twenty versions of his grandfather.

“There was lots he hated about me. I didn’t share his ambition. I wasn’t a snob like him. I refused to work at his company in high school, and heespeciallyhated that I was queer. He didn’t understand—or even care to understand—pansexuality at all.” Ethan blew out a weary breath. “He thought I was indecisive and trying to get attention for being different.”

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