“Eh, details,” she quips, laughing.
I’m entering items into the system and Mel’s unpacking goodies. It’s a system that works well for us. She gets to ooh and ahh over the inventory, and I get to keep track of things. Our jobs play to our skill sets.
“Uh, Ian, what the hell is this?” she asks, holding up a bag of green powder.
“Oh,” I say as coolly as I can manage. “That’s protein powder.”
“Am I missing something? Did someone turn Drip into a gym and not tell me?”
“No.” I roll my eyes. “A lot of students are getting more conscious of what they put in their bodies. So, I talked to Dave about adding some smoothies to our menu. He was all for it. Everybody’s getting health-conscious, you know.”
“Health conscious?”
“Yes. I’m serious. People love their caffeine; that’ll never change. But a lot of customers, students included, are paying more attention to what they eat and drink.”
“Yeah,” she concedes, “but a lot of them still do Jager bombs every night that ends in y and then they caffeinate to get through the day…but okay. You’re the boss, so I guess you know best.”
Actually, a middle-aged man named Dave is our boss, but since I’m the manager, I get to call a lot of the shots. And though I have reasons for adding protein shakes to the menu, I’m sure as hell not admitting them out loud.
My crush on Booker Zabek is my own little secret, and one I’ll take to my grave. Not only are we friends, Booker’s straight. Doesn’t mean I can’t admire the view.
Mel sighs loudly and looks at me. For an awful moment, I’m afraid she can read me like an open book, but her next words confirm that I’ve done a good job of keeping my feelings for Booker to myself.
“Ian, you need to date.”
“What?” I say, nearly dropping a big-ass bag of coffee beans. “Where is this even coming from?”
“The fact that you’re wasting your very best years, maybe? You’re hot, McBride. You’re lean, but I could bounce a quarter off that ass if I wanted to. It’s been months since you showed interest in anyone. I know Christian did a number on you, but it’s time to move on.”
Her mention of my ex catches me off guard and I get a little defensive. “Wow, Mel, I guess we’re laying it all out there now? I’d ask how your Econ class is going, but I’m a good friend and I play nice.”
Mel doesn’t back down. “Sweetie, I’m not trying to hurt your feelings. I’m trying to keep you from getting hurt. You love so hard, Ian—so completely. When you connect with someone, it’s with your whole heart and soul. And I admire the shit out of that. God knows I can’t say the same. But that’s what leaves you vulnerable. Christian—”
“Was an egotistical ass who didn’t deserve all the time I wasted on him. But I’ve flirted with other guys since the epic disaster that was my last relationship.”
“Yeah, Kyle. Charming, cute, unassuming. He was a doll. But he was so afraid of being outed, he jumped back about ten feet when any other patron walked in the coffee shop. I’m pretty sure he believed standing next to a gay man at his place of employment would make his buddies think he wanted to suck their dicks or something. You don’t need that kind of paranoia in your life.”
She’s right. About all of it. And that’s another reason my mind needs to stop daydreaming about Booker. He’s straight. We’re friends. Nothing is ever going to happen there. I know that, but a guy can dream.
“So what do you want me to do? Ask out the next hot guy who walks in?”
“Hell no. He’ll probably be an asshole, and though you and I are drawn to dickheads like bees to honey, I want you to make better choices. You should get on the WolfChat app. There’s a whole dating section. Ok, a hookup section, but still.”
“You want me to go onBainbridge’s answer to Tinder? That’s your grand plan to find me romance?”
“Or we could go dancing,” she says with enthusiasm. “We haven’t gone out in months. I’m not saying you’re going to find your forever man on WolfChat, but you could get a good dicking down. That’s worth it, right?”
I laugh. “So you don’t necessarily want me to fall in love, you just want to see me well and truly fucked? Thanks, I think.”
“Something like that,” she laughs back. “You just haven’t been yourself since the whole Christian debacle and I don’t want him ruining any more of your life than he already has. Life is too short to date douchebags.”
She’s been honest with me, so I owe her the same. “I don’t want to see you get hurt either, Mel. In all seriousness, how is Econ?”
She looks away briefly, then returns her attention to me quickly. “It’s fine. You don’t need to worry about me, Ian. I’m a tough cookie.”
“And I’m not?”
She cups my cheek, then gently straightens my glasses. “No, love, you’re not. That’s what concerns me.”
