counter in The Coffee Bean working the espresso machine. My stomach flip-flopped when he glanced my way and grinned. I stood there, paralyzed, until my legs got the panic message from my brain, and I dashed for the elevator just as the doors started to close.
No coffee for me today. Maybe I could down a couple of Excedrin and get a soda from the machine. That ought to give me about the right amount of caffeine.
I stepped out when the elevator stopped and realized I wasn't even on my floor. There was a men's room right in front of me so I pushed through the door and locked myself in a stall. My pulse rate was through the roof, and I had to lean my head against the wall to keep the world from spinning.
Was I about to have a heart attack? Shelley had told me many times that I had to get a hold of my stress level, that the world wouldn't end if everything didn't go perfectly according to my plan. But she didn't understand how important it was that I be in control of my life, not my family, not an invisible deity, not a dubiously translated religious tome. I set goals and I met them. And as long as I succeeded, I'd done the right thing when I'd given up having a family, no matter how much I occasionally missed them.
But plan or no plan, I couldn't lie to myself anymore. I wanted to go out with Dane, to get to know him, to find out what it would feel like to kiss him. Had I really buried my gayness so far down that even telling my parents I didn't consider myself a Christian hadn't freed me up to admit I like men? Or was it just Dane? Was there something about him that no other man had? Was I gay or bi or what, and how the hell was I supposed to figure it out?
I'd run away from my family and their conservative views, but apparently, I hadn't run far enough. Admitting I liked Dane didn't mean I was capable of asking him out, though. I was just going to have to hide—like the fucking coward I was—until he gave up on me.
A few minutes later, I exited the elevator on the correct floor. Shelley greeted me with a smile that was way too perky for the hour. As much as she'd drunk on Saturday, I was surprised she wasn't still hungover. She glanced down at my empty hands and frowned. "Where's your coffee?"
I'd never arrived at work without a cup of coffee. Predictable was my middle name. "I'm…uh…giving up caffeine."
She raised her brows. "What the fuck is that about? Did you get hypnotized by a health nut on the way to work?"
"No, I just thought I'd quit, that's all. I don't want to be dependent on it."
Her eyes narrowed. "Is there something we need to talk about?"
Shit! Did she actually remember Dane saying he was my type? Did she remember saying she'd like to watch? I hoped she was joking about that. I loved Shelley, but…seriously!
She smirked and patted my shoulder. "I have a feeling you'll get this caffeine deprivation idea out of you system soon."
"Shelley…"
She grinned as if she knew exactly what I was thinking and found me ridiculous. "Yes?"
I sighed, not up for explaining myself. "Nothing. I'm not thinking straight this morning."
She laughed. "Actually you are and that's the problem. You could fix that if you go get your caffeine fix."
She smirked and walked off as I stood there, staring. She looked over her shoulder. "Come get me for lunch if you want to talk."
* * * * *
A few hours later, Shelley showed up at my desk with a large coffee. "Dane says 'hi'. And he missed you this morning."
I felt cold and hot all at once. "I told you I was trying to quit." I gestured toward the coffee.
She snorted. "You haven't gotten a thing done all morning."
"How do you know? Unless all you've been doing is watching me?"
She tapped her head. "Mind powers."
I rolled my eyes. "Right."
"Just drink the fucking coffee."
I nodded and took a sip. I'd been dying for some and there was no way in hell I was turning it down. She'd already paid for it after all.
Shelley grinned, disgustingly smug. "Dane sure is hot. If he'd
Katie Ashley
Sherri Browning Erwin
Kenneth Harding
Karen Jones
Jon Sharpe
Diane Greenwood Muir
Erin McCarthy
C.L. Scholey
Tim O’Brien
Janet Ruth Young