Page 15 of Nothing To Lose
"Are you okay? Maybe we should have waited until your stomach wasn’t empty to take the meds.”
"You got me an iced chai latte."
"I did." Was that the wrong move?
"With oat milk."
"Yeah…"
"And extra cinnamon."
"Did I get it wrong?"
"No, that's not it. It's exactly right."
I deflate a little. At least I got the order right. Although I'm still confused. "Are you upset?"
"No." He doesn't sound sure about that. "It's just…"
Then it occurs to me how fucking weird it probably is that some guy he ran into once knows his exact drink order.
"I'm not a stalker or anything, if that's what you're worried about."
He scoffs. "It hadn't occurred to me. Although now that you mention it…"
My shoulders shake with silent laughter. "Okay, okay. I maybe asked Brenna what your order was. I wanted to replace your drink after I ran into you that day, but then every time I saw you again, you bolted. Last night was the first time you didn't split as soon as you saw me."
Tyler blanches, and I mentally kick myself for bringing it up. As if he could forget it, being in as much pain as I'm sure he's in. A few moments of tense silence pass, but Tyler rallies.
"What kind of soup?" he says, offering us a distraction.
I hold up the two containers. Brenna has labeled them in her loopy handwriting. "Looks like Zuppa Toscana, and lemon chicken and rice."
"Do they know I'm the 'sick friend'?"
"No, why?"
"Everything is dairy free."
Huh.I wouldn't have noticed. The cheese for the sandwiches is even packaged separately. He gestures for the lemon chicken and rice, so I pour some in a bowl for him, setting the bowl on the plate while he dishes out some fruit for both of us.
"Could just be a coincidence. Or wishful thinking on their part."
"What do you mean?" He says, taking half a sandwich. I watch him carefully, making a mental note of the way he picks the onion off a chicken sandwich.
“I’ve never ordered a chai latte before, so they might be hopeful that you’re the friend I’m taking care of.”
He looks confused. Chuckling, I add a club sandwich with extra cheese to my plate, and lead him over to the couch. "You mean they don't badger you for details about your personal life and try to set you up with anyone that you look at twice?"
"Uh, no. But I haven't been going there long. The day I spilled my drink all over you was the first time, and was nearly the last."
I want to say I'm glad it wasn't, but stop myself at the last minute. It might come off insensitive, since it was where he was the night he was attacked. I'm also coming on very strong and need to calm down before I scare him off.
"They're good people," I say instead. "So, you don’t eat dairy, then?"
"Yeah, it upsets my stomach." He blushes and looks down into his bowl, like having dietary needs is embarrassing. Is that why he didn't tell me when I asked about ordering dinner?
"Well, I'm glad I didn't end up ordering pizza," I say, smiling, so he knows I'm only teasing. I'm hoping he'll tell me why he didn't say anything, but I'm not going to press him.
