Page 29 of Hopelessly Teavoted
“Oh.” He smiled, relaxing. “Well, happy early birthday. I’d like to buy you a drink, too, but I wasn’t sure what you’re drinking these days, and I didn’t want to assume.”
The consideration of it was enough to make her want to hug him again. To climb him like a tree, really. She resisted and sat down instead.
The same server from before came back, this time dressed in a shirt that said Han Shot First. The beauty of small towns was that it was fairly easy to become a regular in a place like this.
“What can I get you? Greedo Mojito?” She smiled at his memory.
“Let’s do a Wretched Hive. I’ve always wanted to look into beekeeping. It seems kind of cool.”
“We locally source the honey for it, and buy the lemons from the same farm. It’s run by a wonderfully eclectic pair of sisters, who are shut-ins, and big cheese afficionados, too. The maple gin is local, too, so you might as well call it a Vermont Hive.”
“That would be slightly less on brand,” said Azrael, smiling. The waiter blushed, and Vickie wondered if there was anything there.
And why the thought stoked a tiny flare of jealousy in her gut.
Azrael put his hand on her shoulder, running his thumb down an inch for a second and biting his lip.
“It’s her birthday this weekend,” he said. “She’ll be twenty-six on Sunday.”
Daniel looked overjoyed. “Oooooh! I love birthdays. We have a whole birthday thing.”
“Oh,” said Azrael, looking at her nervously. “Oh no, I don’t know if she wants a whole thing—”
“Fuck yes, I do,” she said. “I love a birthday thing.”
The waiter nodded and hurried off to the bar. They could see him mixing the drink and then fiddling around with something underneath the counter.
He returned with Vickie’s drink and what looked like the top half of a Darth Vader helmet.
“We don’t do the mask bit anymore, but if you want, you can wear the birthday helmet.”
She plunked it on her head, hoping that Daniel was the sort to disinfect this thing between special occasions. He was already back behind the bar, wiping it down fastidiously, which was a good sign.
“That looks nothing like Darth Vader,” he said.
“I guess you really do need the mask, but I can appreciate, from both a selling beverages and a cleanliness standpoint, not handing one out to customer after customer in this particular scenario.” She wrinkled her nose.
“It’s giving the guy fromSpaceballs,” said Azrael, laughing in earnest. His eyes crinkled, and she felt that smile all the way to her toes.
Goddess, she loved it when he smiled.
“Use the Schwartz, Azrael,” she said, in her best Rick Moranis voice.
“I mean, I’m game for using Force in consenting situations between adults if you are.” His face was bright red now. His hands gripped the table, knuckles white, and her breath caught in her throat.
“Exactly what kind of ‘force’ would that be?” She leaned forward, chin on her hand, trying not to think of the sex dungeon they’d found in Hart Manor as kids.
He paused, eyes darkening, pupils wide, and ran a thumb across his jaw for a moment before answering. “Using the force of friendship, obviously.”
Vickie bit her lip, shaking off a slight disappointment. Thatwas better, though. Easier. A much safer idea than what she’d momentarily envisioned.
“Speaking of friendship, how do Monday or Tuesday night sound? For the contacting, you know.” Telling herself this was for friendship alone wasn’t entirely a lie; while it might be a little romantic to meet her former, well, whatever he had been to her, so late, she was always up at such hours already after work weekend nights prepping pastry and the like for the weekend rush. Her birthday wouldn’t make her any less in debt to the bank.
“Yeah,” said Az, swallowing the last of what looked like a cider. “Let’s do Tuesday. That works better for me.” He glanced at the menu. That little crease between his brows was back, and she wanted to smooth it away with her thumb. “Hey, want to split the ice cream sundae they have here? They call it a Hoth Planet Explosion.”
“Is that even a question?” She had missed this. The friendship, the easiness between them. Maybe they could just not talk about what had happened. Pretend it away.
Pretending could work. It had to.
