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I stopped mid-stride, on my way to the squeeze bottles. “Wait, what?”
“We were supposed to go birthday shopping, remember?”
There was a second or two of confusion, then my mouth dropped open. A shudder of cold disappointment ran down my spine.
“Oh Zane, I’m so sorry!” I gasped. “I totally forgot!”
I was supposed to help him go shopping for his mother’s birthday! And instead—
“No worries,” he shrugged. “I figured something came—”
“No no no!” I cut him off. “No, I totally spaced out. Damn, I’m the worst fucking friend. I’m the biggest asshole in the world.”
“Well, not the biggest,” he chuckled. “You’re up there, though.”
Glumly I went back to working on his latte, but my heart wasn’t in it anymore. I knew Zane had already forgiven me; he’d always been like that. But I still felt terrible.
“Look, we’ll go tonight,” I suggested. “How about that?”
He shook his head. “Can’t go tonight. I’m working the rink.”
“How late?”
“Until closing.”
I sighed and reached for the cinnamon sugar. Zane’s mother lived alone, and his four older siblings had all but flown the coop. They were off in different states, living their own lives, while he worked two jobs just to throw her some cash. But it was time, not money, that she valued when it came to her son.
“We still have time,” I told him. “We’ll go next week, after Calgary. Whatever day you want.”
Zane unfolded his arms and peeked over at his latte, which was almost done. “Okay.”
I slid the mug to him carefully, being careful not to disrupt the scene. Within it, two foamed-milk people were kissing through the windshield of a steamed milk car.
“Is that you and me?” he asked, staring down at it.
“What, us?” I balked. “No! Of course not.”
I leaned in confidentially, looking over my shoulder for signs of Katie.
“It’s the people we saw in the alley,” I practically whispered. “The other night.”
Zane rubbed at his jaw contemplatively for a moment. “You should’ve made them fucking then,” he said. “Because there wasn’t much kissing.”
“Oh yeah?” I challenged. I handed him an empty mug. “You try making latte art of a parked car with two people fucking in it.”
He laughed, and I felt suddenly better about standing him up. Zane and I were always good like that. No grudges, no problems. It was one of the reasons I think we ultimately hooked up.
“You wanna take a photo of this before I drink it?” he asked. “You know, for your Instagram?”
“Nah,” I shook my head. “That was a rush job. I’ll do a better one later on and post it.”
Zane nodded and took a sip of his free latte. Katie was still in the back room, but she’d given up the battle of me handing out free lattes to my friends long ago.
“Maybe forget the car altogether,” he suggested, leaning in so close his lips were against my ear. “And draw some really cute girl getting fucked in the window of some guy’s apartment.”
His voice was raspy now, deep and masculine. It gave me the shivers.
“Maybe she’s got her hands on the window,” Zane breathed. “And she’s getting plowed from behind. I mean really fucked, Ariana. Deep and hard. Know what I mean?”
