“Whatever this is.” He gestured between us. “I like you. I want to get to know you. But I’m not…” A pause. “I don’t want this to just be physical.”
“Who says it would be?”
“Am I wrong?” Those hazel eyes pinned me in place. “If I came back to your place right now, would we actually just talk?”
No. Absolutely not. I’d have him against the wall within five seconds.
“Maybe not,” I admitted.
“I’m not judging. I just…” He ran a hand through his hair. “I want to do this right. Take our time. Actually, date instead of just…”
“Hooking up.”
“Yeah.”
I should’ve been relieved. This was the boundary that usually made me bail. Too complicated, too much investment, too much risk of actually feeling something.
Instead, something I’d have called hope if I were less cowardly flickered through me.
“Okay.” I leaned back. “Then we date.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, but I have a condition.”
His eyebrows rose. “What’s that?”
“I get to take you out next time. Dinner. Somewhere nice.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.” And I did. I wanted him across a table somewhere with candlelight instead of fluorescent coffee shop bulbs. I wanted to buy him a meal and watch him eat it. The whole ridiculous courting ritual I had skipped, on principle, for over a decade. “Saturday night. You free?”
“I am now.”
We stood gathering our empty cups and walked outside together. The sun hung lower in the sky, late afternoon bleeding into early evening, the Brooklyn streets coming alive with people heading home.
“Thanks for coffee, and for being honest about… all of that.”
“Thanks for not running when I said I wanted to take it slow.”
“Night’s still young. I might run later.”
He laughed, real and unguarded, and the sound hit somewhere coffee had no business reaching.
“Text me about Saturday?” he asked.
“Will do.”
We stood there for a beat too long, neither of us quite ready to leave. Ellis shifted his weight, and I wondered if he wanted to kiss me. Wondered if I should make the first move.
Then he stepped back.
“See you Saturday, Jett.”
“See you Saturday.”
He walked toward the subway, hands in his pockets.
