by Maxi MacNair
“You need to know a lot of things about a lot of things in my job.”
I smiled at him. “My mother suspected the same thing, actually.”
“Well, I hope you can get it fixed soon,” he said, returning it to me. “It sounds really precious to you.”
“It is,” I said with a sigh, carefully sliding it back into my purse. “It’s probably the most precious thing I own.” What would my mother think if I never got it fixed?
Derek kissed me and held out the bag of kettle corn. “Care to do the honors?”
I laughed, and took a handful. We chatted while we ate, and saw the sleepy morning blossom into a vibrant and sunny day. It almost felt like we were a real couple.
By the time the performance ended, it was early afternoon. Having snacked a fair bit earlier, we opted to go for coffee instead of a late lunch. Following the GPS on my phone, we walked to one of the top-ten coffee shops in the city. It sat on the edge of a square bordered by quiet boutiques and patio restaurants. The square itself was currently being overhauled for a weekend music festival, bustling with people putting together a stage and hoisting blue and orange banners to the sky.
From the outside, the cafe looked sophisticated, but not pretentious. The front door was a sleek, bold burgundy, and the sign overhead was a large slab of carved wood. Peering through the floor-to-ceiling front windows, we could see a line snaking towards the register. But other than that, it didn’t look too crowded and we could there were at least a couple free tables. A melodic chime welcomed us when we stepped inside. It was cute, and I felt suddenly compelled to lean over and land a kiss on Derek’s cheek.
He raised an eyebrow at me. “What was that for?”
“Just because,” I said, suddenly regretting it. Was I being too couple-y?
“Not trying to bribe me into buying your coffee?”
I was about to protest when he laughed, and nudged me playfully in the side.
“Claire. I was already going to pay.”
“I’m not broke, though. I don’t mind paying for us.”
He shook his head. “No. When I take you out, it’s my treat.”
Derek ordered a cappuccino, and I decided to try their hazelnut latte. While we waited for our drinks at a table, I shrugged off my jacket to sling over my chair, but then immediately put it back on.
“Cold?” Derek asked.
I frowned, and pulled the jacket tighter over my shoulders. “Can you feel that air conditioning? It’s blowing right on me.”
“I’ll trade you seats.”
We swapped positions, and as soon as he sat down, he laughed. “Okay. It’s hitting me right on the top of my head.”
“It’s like ice, right?”
“You’d think we’re in Hawaii, they have this cranked up so high. The staff probably go outside on their breaks just to warm up.”
I laughed, glancing at the barista standing at the till and noticing her rubbing one arm as she worked, as if she was trying to stay warm.
Our names were called and we went to grab our drinks. I decided to taste the latte in its purest form, but Derek stopped to sprinkle his drink with chocolate shavings. Only it was less of a sprinkle and more of a downpour. Flash flood even.
“Uh, how much of that do you usually put in?”
“The right amount,” Derek said, still shaking more into the cappuccino.
“Would you like some coffee with your chocolate?”
He grinned at me, and set the metal tin back with the rest of the toppings. “Yes, I would. Thank you.”
“You could have just ordered a mocha, you know?” I commented as we made our way back to our table.
“That’s not a man’s drink,” he said.
“Whatever you say.” I rolled my eyes and took a sip of my latte. It tasted, odd. For some reason this happened to me way too often.
“What’s wrong?” Derek set his drink down. “Is it bad?”
I shook my head. “I think they gave me the wrong drink. This tastes like a vanilla latte.”
He sat up and took the cup from me. “I’ll have them fix it.”
Before I could say anything myself, he was already at the till. In between customers, he spoke softly to the barista, who seemed apologetic and took the cup from him without any debate. Looked like he was the type to take charge, even in local as mundane as a coffee shop.
“They’re making you a new one,” he said, rejoining me at the table. “Just entered the wrong drink into the computer I think.”
“Thanks, Derek.” I smiled at him. If I ever had another beverage mishap, I knew who to call.
When I was called for my replacement drink, I had to tell Derek to stay sitting. While I appreciated his desire to help, grabbing my coffee from the counter was something I could do myself.
As I took my new coffee and turned to return to my seat, a roaring child appeared out of nowhere, laughing as her mother called from the front of the cafe. I stepped away, trying to avoid being run into. But in my alarm, I didn’t notice there was a man preparing his coffee beside me, and I fell into him.
I let out a gasp of shock and a string of apologies. He cursed just loud enough for me to hear, his coffee now a mess on the floor and mine soaking his shirt. Pulling the fabric away from him, he tried to redirect the dripping coffee away from his pants and onto the floor.
“I’m sorry—there was a kid and I—”
He cut me off with another curse and pulled his attention away from his stained shirt to focus it on me.
The air was sucked from my lungs and I felt a shiver crawl up my spine.
His heavy brows furrowed and his mouth turned into an all-knowing smile. “Claire. Clumsy as always, it seems.”
It was Brent. Somehow I was too stunned and terrified at having thrown my coffee at someone that I hadn’t noticed that someone to be my ex. I swallowed hard. We had only dated for two months, but it was two months too many. His charm quickly turned sour when I started asking him to go to places I wanted to try, escalated when I stopped wanting to have sex with him every night we spent together, and evolved into a fury when I finally dumped him.
“I am so sorry,” I said.
“You going to buy me a new shirt? Or find another coffee to throw at me?”
“It was an accident.”
He scoffed. “You need to pay attention to what you’re doing. You’re just a clumsy b—”
“Hey,” Derek said, suddenly pushing me back and stepping between the two of us. “She said she was sorry. It was an accident.” He turned to me and added, “Claire, you okay? Did you burn yourself?”
“No,” I said. “I’m fine.”
Brent scoffed. “Got yourself a new man, huh? You going to toss him aside after a couple months like you did me?”
“Get over yourself,” I hissed at him. “You were a jerk to me.”
“And you were a bi—”
“Back off,” Derek growled, an unspoken challenge in his voice. His shoulders rolled back and I realized just how much taller he was that I. And how much bigger he was than Brent and his stick figure. “And leave her alone.”
Brent shifted on his feet, but didn’t step back. The look in his eyes reminded me of when I had dumped him. They flashed with a dark and dangerous jealousy. “Who are you to her anyway? I don’t see a ring.”
“What do you know? It’s not your business.”
“Whatever, Prince Charming.” He practically spit the words. “Want a lifetime of misery? Go ahead and marry this bitch.”
“Maybe I will.”
The words hung heavy in the air. I bit my lip and watched the coffee puddles on the ground. There were coffee footprints from where Derek stepped. I could hear my heart beat in my chest and feel the color rising in my face. Those words…they were said in the heat of the moment, but something about hearing them said by him stirred something inside of me. I think that was when I fell in love in him.
“Excuse me.” A staff member wielding a mop had snuck up next to
us and took the moment of silence to interject. “I need to clean that up. And we’ll make you new drinks, so please don’t worry about it.”
“Thanks,” I said, grateful for the interruption and distraction. I grabbed Derek’s arm and tugged it gently. “Come on, let’s get out of the way.”
He didn’t budge.
I tugged again. “Derek.”
Finally he turned to me, his face serious and the tension built around his eyes obvious. We moved off to the side, Brent in the opposite direction, and let the cafe’s employee get to work.
Thankfully, my replacement coffee’s replacement was ready quickly, and I suggested to Derek that we take our drinks outside and go elsewhere. But he was reluctant, and pointed out that his drink still held our table for us. I only agreed because Brent left the cafe as soon as he had his drink in his hand. I could feel Brent staring at us as he left, and through the windows as he walked away, but I didn’t make eye contact. He didn’t deserve the satisfaction. Even if I did feel a little bad about ruining his shirt.
“I’m sorry about that,” I finally said to Derek, suspecting he had something more to say on the matter, be it to Brent or myself.
“You dated that jerk?”
I frowned. “They’re never jerks when you first date them…”
He seemed to mull it over. Either that or he was replaying the drama inside his head.
“But thanks for having my back,” I said, hoping to cut some of the awkwardness that was beginning to form between us. “It was sweet.”
Derek smiled. His charming smile. “Claire, hon, no one treats my woman like that.”
~
A large pot of water sat on the stove, and next to it a package of pasta and a salt shaker. Derek added a drizzle of olive oil to a frying pan and turned on the burner. He told me his plan was to recreate a pasta dish he saw on tv one of the few times he found himself on a cooking channel. I asked him what type of pasta dish it was, but he said he couldn’t remember the name, just that it looked good. And that pasta was one of the dishes he actually figured he was decent at cooking.
“Oh,” Derek said, hand in the fridge.
“What?” I came up behind him, abandoning the mushrooms I was cutting.
A scowl took over his face and he swore under his breath. “The fridge. It quit.”
“No way.”
“It’s not running. Feel it.”
I put my hand inside, and felt towards the back. Warm. “Oh, no.”
“What the heck.” He threw his hands in the air and paced behind me. “It’s not even old. Must have broke this morning, too.”
I placed a hand on his shoulder. “At least there’s not too much in it to go bad? Maybe it’s an easy fix?”
He pulled a package from the middle shelf. “But this chicken is no good now.” He stalked over to the garbage and dropped it in with a thud. “There goes dinner.”
I tried to cover my disappointment with a smile. “Hey, it’s fine.”
“I planned this. For you.”
“I know, but it’s not your fault.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. I could see the frustration in his eyes.
“Hey, why don’t we order delivery then? We can get a movie started, and not have to worry about extra dishes.” I rubbed his shoulders and kissed his neck.
He looked down at me, some of the glimmer returning to his eyes. “Really? You’re okay with that?”
“Of course I am. Some of the best date nights are delivery nights.”
“You’re amazing, you know?”
“I know.”
~
The credits began their crawl up the screen and Derek pulled me into his arm. We cuddled on the couch, half-eaten boxes of pad thai and drained glasses of wine across from us on the coffee table. The only light apart from the tv screen came from flickering candles. I had been under the impression that we’d have a romantic dinner, and I wasn’t disappointed. Secretly, I was a bit glad for the unexpected turn of events.
“Interested in dessert?” Derek whispered into my ear.
“Already?”
“I have something special. If you’re interested.”
“Okay, sure.”
“It’s in my bed room.”
I slapped him lightly on the arm.
“No—it’s actually edible—I mean, it’s actually food.”
I looked at him askance. “Not so sure I trust you, but all right.”
Derek laughed, then took my hand and pulled me into his room. He told me to sit on his bed, and he disappeared into his closet. I heard a drawer open, and the crinkling of plastic bags associated with rummaging through stuff.
When he returned, he was holding something behind his back.
“Close your eyes,” he said.
I did, grinning.
There was the sound of tearing plastic and a crinkle of foil. I felt the mattress shift as he sat down next to me.
Something pressed against my lips. I parted them to let him push whatever it was into my mouth.
“Bite it.”
I bit into the chocolate ball and sweet champagne filled my mouth, my eyes opening with the pleasant surprise.
“Like it?”
I nodded, sucking the remains of the champagne from the chocolate shell.
“Your turn,” I said, leaning over to unwrap a truffle from the box. “Close your eyes.”
He laughed, but closed them, and I traced the chocolate over his lips before tipping it into his mouth.
After a second chocolate each, Derek slid the box onto the nightstand and looked at me with eyes that set my heart smouldering. I leaned back in the bed, resting on my elbows, thinking of something I knew that would be even sweeter than the chocolate.
He crawled above me, his legs and arms outside of mine, trapping me in just the way I wanted to be. Then he leaned back, and looked me over, drawing a slow line from my navel to my chin with a single finger. His eyes shone like small stars and radiated something that stole my breath away. After a long moment of regarding me with those bright, wide eyes, he swooped low and pressed his face to mine in a kiss that I’d never forget. I dug my fingers into his back and pulled his body into mine. And in return, he pulled me closer, squeezing me tight as our tongues touched and hearts began to beat in synchrony.
I don’t know who did what, but soon we had slid out of our clothes and we were naked on top of the bed. Taking in each other's tongues, gasping for breath when we broke free. It was frantic and wild, urgent and comforting. Our thighs were getting streaked with wetness. His from me, mine from liquid leaking from the tip of his erection that was responding to every touch and caress. He closed his eyes and rolled his head back as I gripped it in my fist and stroked it slowly and smoothly. His fingers found my folds and the slickness down there meant his finger was quickly circling and stroking exactly where I needed it. Our lips only separated for air still and there was no need for words as our bodies took over everything we did. Derek rolled over so that he was trapping me again and then stopped to rummage through his bedside table drawer to find a condom again. I grabbed his arm though and slowly guided the bulb of his cock toward my opening and felt it slide through my grip going deep inside me raw and uncovered. That was the last conscious decision I made that night as I rolled my hips in time with the earnest thrusts of Derek’s body. I let out moans I never thought I could. Something was coming out of me as he drove inside me, and the look I saw on Derek’s was nothing like the smirking playboy I sometimes caught him being, but was something different. Something vulnerable and honest. Derek’s member continued to penetrate me as I started to come again and soon his pace quickened his strokes still long and hard, driving deep, tossing me into the orgasm. I could feel his cock swell even larger and he started making his own uncontrolled sounds, his cheek pressed next to mine. Lost in my own orgasm I felt the warmth burst inside of me, the heat coat my insides as we started to slow our rhythm taking every drop of bliss we could give to each oth
er. And yet I felt like neither of us could get as close to the other as we truly desired.
~
“I have to go,” Derek said from his bedroom’s walk-in closet where I could hear him pulling on a pair a jeans.
I just woke, and he must have heard me sit up and pull the blue sheets up over my body.
“Right now?” I glanced at the clock. It was only just after nine.
“Sorry I can’t get you breakfast.” His voice sounded rough, as if he was getting a cold, and lacking the gentle cadence of last night.
“Is everything okay?” I squished the sheets into my chest.
“I got a message,” he said. “I have to go now.”
“You said yesterday that you wanted to hangout all day today,” I said.
“I can’t now,” he said looking sadder than I had ever seen him. “This is not something I can control.”
I thought he was going to continue, but he didn’t, so I crawled towards the edge of the bed with the hope of being able to bring him into my line of sight. I could see only half of his body, the rest obscured by the wall. He was just standing there, shirtless, with a belt halfway looped through his pants. He looked as if he had suddenly forgotten how to put on a belt, holding one limp end in his hand. Although I couldn’t see his face, I could see his distress and sorrow in the way his usually proud shoulders drooped forward and the small of his back curved more out than in. I gulped and shirked back towards the head of the bed.
I felt bad spying on him. I felt I had just seen something I shouldn’t have, something he wasn’t wanting to share. My gut churned as I wondered what that something truly was. Why did he suddenly have to leave? I wondered if I had done something wrong, and if this was just an excuse to make me leave. Ice gripped my heart as the idea of him seeing another woman crossed my mind. Was I just a play-toy that he thought he earned by feeding me dessert, and setting the stage with music and candles?
The candles. Why were they out in the first place? They hadn’t been stored away in a cupboard, but already on display, as if they were waiting for me. Or for anyone else he lured here with his stupid, charming smile and flirtatious words. How many times had he paired the candles, jazz, and wine, or pulled out a box of champagne-filled chocolates from his closet?
