Page 39 of Latte Girl
DateNight
Hailey
Iinspectthe inside of my closet. Half the rail is taken up by the identical pairs of black pants and white blouses I wear to work. The rest of the contents consist of my blue mini dress, a pair of skinny jeans, four t-shirts, and somesweatpants.
I really don’t get out muchthesedays.
I consider sending Brittney a picture of the situation and asking her to come up with some sort of fashionista miracle solution. Since the Flirtini Friday episode, Brittney, Trisha and I have started to talk all the time, our newly forged friendship solidified by the bonds of drunkenembarrassment.
I hold back on asking Brittney’s advice, though. I don’t think even she could create a wow-worthy outfit out of what I’ve got to work with here. After a very quick process of elimination, I go with skinny jeans and a black t-shirt.
In simplicity, there is beauty, I tell myself as I dab on some makeup and fluff upmyhair.
I check the time. I have five minutes until I have to leave to meet Jordan at Cuppa Joe, myfavouritecafe.
I keep trying to tell myself that it’s ridiculous to be nervous about going on a date with a guy who has literally had my boobs in his mouth already, but my heart is still pounding faster by the second. Seeing him outside of work, and being sober this time, has me wondering if things will still be the same between us when we’re not our 19thStreetselves.
Pulling my coat on, I say goodbye to Amanda where she’s doing a book of math puzzles on the living roomfloor.
“Nerd,” I tease, prodding her with my foot. “Wake mom up if you needanything.”
My mom got back from her overnight shift a few hours ago and is now sleeping the afternoon away inherroom.
I take the bus over to the artsy part of town, tapping my fingers on the edge of my seat. Part of me wonders if I’m an idiot for even agreeing to this date in the first place. I shouldn’t have made it so easy for Jordan to apologize. All he did was come up with a few heartfelt sentences and he had me half naked on a tabletop. While what happened in the cafe leaves no doubt in my mind that he wants my body as desperately as I want his, I wasn’t just being a flirt when I told him I didn’ttrusthim.
He was right when he said there’s a pull between us. Everything about him draws me in. Just seeing the heat in his gaze when he looked at me was enough to make me wet, and when we kissed he seemed to know exactly what I needed even beforeIdid.
I try not to let myself believe that proves I mean something to him; a lot of very good kissers are verybadguys.
I get off the bus across the street from Cuppa Joe and immediately brace myself for a hard hit to my resolve when I see Jordan leaning against the walloutside.
He’s got his pea coat on over a pair of dark jeans, and when he reaches up to push back a few drool-worthily disheveled strands of hair, I fully expect a camera crew to appear from around the corner because there is no way this man is not shooting some kind of commercial right now. Nobody just stands against a wall looking that good inreallife.
Pushing away thoughts of the time he hadmeup against a wall, I cross the street andapproachhim.
“So you do own clothing other than a suit,” I announce, hoping to come off as way more collected thanIfeel.
“And you don’t wear an apron every day,” hecounters.
“Oh, I’ve got one on undermycoat.”
The corner of his mouth pulls up into one of his uneven smiles, and all I want is for him to bend down and kiss me right then andthere.
Pull yourself together, Hailey Warren, orders my internal drill sergeant, who is doing her best to overrule my inner temptress fortheday.
“Shall we?” I say, leading Jordan over to the door ofthecafe.
The earthy smell of coffee beans wafts towards us as we step inside. There’s a sticky-sweet heaviness to the air, a warmth that makes it feel like you could suck in a breath and taste caramel and powdered sugar on your tongue. All of the anxiousness in me melts away for a moment, dissolving into the clinking of glasses and the silky strains of music issuing fromoverhead.
I turn to look at Jordan. He’s checking out the inside of the cafe, and it makes me happier than expected to see that he’s impressed. Cuppa Joe is the perfect mix of cozy and edgy. The exposed brick walls and bare light bulbs hanging from the high ceiling give it an industrial vibe, but the look is softened by a few well-worn leather couches and the huge bay windows filled with cushions where I’ve curled up with many a lattebefore.
“I see why you like it,” says Jordan. “It’s got a very... hipster-meets-man-cave kindoffeel.”
“Are you saying I’m a mix of hipster and frustrated dad?” Itease.
He shrugs, grinning. “I kind of like that in awoman.”
I let out a snort as we approach the long wooden counter. Mina, one of the cafe’s co-owners, is working the cash today. She has her sleeves rolled up past her elbows, revealing the twisting patterns of the flower tattoos that cover bothherarms.
