I go to erase it, but Sullivan steps up to the counter and sets his mug down on the counter next to me. I’m so startled my finger slips andhits send.
I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed you wanted to go out on Wednesday. You’ll probably be exhausted after working so many shifts and want time to rest. The last thing you need is the stress of a first date. And I shouldn’t have assumed you’d be the one planning the date either. I mean, what is this, 1952? I’ve clearly been reading too many romance novels with a bit of a chauvinistic bent. When we go on a first date (if you still want that) we can plan something together, and it definitely doesn’t have to involve sex (on a beach or otherwise). Don’t get me wrong, I’d be up for it. I mean, I’m not usually the type to have sex with someone on a first date. I’ve never done that before. But… I don’t know. This feels different. Like we’ve already been on a bunch of faux-first dates. Doesn’t it? Maybe I’m wrong. I’m sorry. I totally get it if you never want to see me again.
“Shit!” I say.
“What’s wrong?” Sullivan asks.
I scramble to erase the message, but it already says it’s been read. Or he’s reading it now. Deleting it will only make it worse.
I slump and hit my head against the counter. “I just made a complete fool of myself in front of a guy I really, really like.”
“So,” Sullivan says as if that’s the end of a sentence. As if it doesn’t matter at all.
“You don’t get it.” I straighten up. “I just accidentallyshowed all the internal ruminative workings of my brain. He’s gonna think I’m crazy.”
“Better he knows now, right?”
My eyes feel like they’re bulging out of my head. “No. It’s better if he never knows.”
Sullivan pours half and half into his already half-drunk coffee until the liquid reaches the rim. Ick. He stirs it quietly for a moment before looking up and meeting my eyes. “Is that really how you want to be loved?”
He leaves me holding my phone and my broken ego. On the way back to his table, he detours to talk to Kiara. She scowls at him, but then he says something that makes her laugh. He walks away smiling a goofy grin.
Is he right? Is it better to show up exactly as you are and let the other person decide if they can love the real you? I want that. I want someone to love me as I am, with all my neuroses and quirks, but… what if that person doesn’t exist? A planet full of people and not a single one who would tolerate me without the masks, much less love me.
Our coffee comes, and there’s still no response from Cosmos. Kiara and I work on our novels for thirty minutes before we check in with each other. I’ve written three hundred and thirty-six new words and deleted twice that many. If I don’t snap out of it and focus, I’m never going to finish.
I go to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face. Wash my hands twice. And give myself a pep talk in the mirror.
When I get back to the table, Kiara is grinning at me like she knows a secret. “You got a text from Sexy Doctor Man.”
My stomach does a little flip, and I suddenly feel nauseous.
Kiara bounces in her seat. “I didn’t read it, but your phone was right there on the table, so I saw it come through.”
Taking a deep breath, I sit down and look at my phone.
Cosmos:
You’re right. This is different. More different than you know.
I’m in and out of surgery all day, but should be available to talk at three. Can I call you?
I let out a sigh. I haven’t ruined it. Not yet. We’ll talk soon, and everything will be fine. Maybe. Maybe not. What did he mean by more different than you know? Is that code for something? Is it supposed to be romantic? Would everyone know what that means but me?
“So, what’s going on between you two?” Kiara asks, startling me from my thoughts.
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Maybe something.”
“It should be something.” She glances at Sullivan out of the corner of her eye. He’s frantically typing away at the table next to us, like he’s trying to win a race against his novel, or like he’s trying to ignore our conversation.
“Well, if you don’t lick him like a lollipop, I will,” Kiara says, loud enough for everyone around us to hear. “That man’s probably got a dick hot enough to burn my tongue.”
Sullivan’s eyes bug out, and he chokes on his drink.
Kiara laughs. “Too easy.”
“Kiaraaaa,” I hiss and slap her arm.
