Page 22 of Stray for You

BUT I HAVE SLEPT with him.

The memory sticks to me like gum on the bottom of my shoe all day. I leave his hotel first thing in the morning and go home to shower and collect myself, but when I get to the café in the afternoon, I’m still thinking about it.

My co-worker Sebastian is at the café when I arrive. We have a small overlap in shifts. He’s bouncing around behind the counter, dancing to whatever pop song is playing in the café. He’s way too chipper for my liking when my own life is such a conflicted, confusing mess, but he’s also a professional dancer, so coming in to find him skipping around the café isn’t all that unusual. His long ponytail sways as he sweeps while bopping his hips.

I take my place behind the coffee bar and check on supplies and stuff before the shift begins. Tux is in his usual spot on the stool behind me, purring away at the sight of me. I pet him, and when I turn around, Sebastian is leaning on the counter, hisponytail spilling over his shoulder.

“I think I got everything. You good to take over?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’ve got it,” I say.

He reaches over the counter to ruffle my already messy hair. “Look at you, soaring on your own.”

I would complain, but he trained me for this job, so he knows of all my little stumbles while I was learning. I thought Henry might train me since I knew him from college, but my shifts aligned better with Sebastian’s. It worked out fine. With him being a dancer and me being a guitarist, we have music in common, and that point of connection helped me settle in even if our personalities are so disparate.

Sebastian checks his phone. “Shit. I’ve been here too long. I want to make it home before Luke and get a couple things ready.”

He winks at me, and I roll my eyes. His boyfriend Luke would be mortified to have personal details come up at the café. The two of them couldn’t be much more different, but apparently it’s working because ever since they got together a few months back Sebastian has been relentlessly happy.

I see him off. He leaves the café and nearly skips down the street. He waves as he passes the windows, and I give him a curt wave in return, but it’s a bit of a relief to have the café to myself.

At least, it is until the silence hits me.

We change shifts at this time of day because it’s usually quiet. There’s all of one customer here and the cats are mostly sleeping. So almost the moment Sebastian leaves, I have little to do but replay last night. I scrub the coffee machine and recheck the supplies to try to take my mind off it, but it’s difficult when I was in Julian’s hotel room kissing him goodbye mere hours ago.

Kissing him goodbye.Jesus, what came over me? Why did I allow a thing like that? He was just so … nice at dinner. It was normal. If we didn’t have the history we have, it would have beena nice date followed by a fun night. But wedohave our history, and that knowledge weighs on my mind, muddying what should be a pleasant memory.

I make the mistake of checking my phone. I thought Julian would be busy with his sales guy stuff today, but I have several texts from him.

Good morning.

Okay, good afternoon, I guess.

I’m having my coffee and wondering if you still put too much creamer in yours.

I was on the way to a lunch meeting and saw a sign for an underground tour. Seattle has an underground? How does that even work?

His one-sided conversation rambled on all morning, apparently, but I was too busy driving and getting ready for work to notice it. I type out a response. Yes, I still put creamer in my coffee, but it’s a normal amount. Yes, Seattle has an underground. No, I don’t know anything more about it.

Part of me wonders why I’m responding at all, why I keep giving in to this pull. In New Jersey, I pushed him away easily. It wasn’t even a thought outside of that one weird moment in my bedroom. I told Mom that, too. After that incident, I tried explaining to her that it was all Julian. I didn’t start that shit. I wasn’t into him at all.

I suppose I can’t go on claiming I’m not into him. I pounced on him eagerly enough last night. Surely, it was only physical, though. He’s a good-looking guy; anyone could see that. Since he’s headed home in a few days, it shouldn’t matter how I do or don’t feel about him. He’s hot. We hooked up. The end.

Except I don’t typically spend the whole next day texting with a hookup, and Julian’s messages are still pouring in. The moment I replied, he apparently started typing. I’m getting a slew of updates on how his day is going. It’s as overwhelming astalking to the guy in person, yet here I am standing at the coffee bar diligently reading every message, and even sending back a few of my own.

“Well, look at that. You’re smiling.”

I startle at the voice, nearly dropping my phone, but it’s just my final co-worker, River. He has a yoga mat tucked under his arm. His dyed blue hair sits in a tight bun at the back of his head. He’s not shirtless yet, but if I’ve come to learn anything while working here, it’s that River never stays fully clothed for long. I suspect it’s part of the appeal of his yoga classes. The cats that climb all over his students are fun, but River being topless is an even bigger draw for many of his clients.

“I’m not smiling,” I say. “Do you have a class today?”

“Yup, starts in about half an hour. Thought I’d arrive early and get into my flow.”

“Cool.”

I wait for him to leave, but he lingers at the coffee bar, his slate gray eyes narrowing. There’s something unsettling about those eyes. They’re so pale that they’re downright eerie in certain lighting, and right now they’re boring directly through me.

“Your aura is different today,” River says. He cocks his head to the side. “There’s more yellow than I usually see in you.”

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