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“How do you take your coffee?” I ask, turning with both mugs in my hands.
“Just black is fine.” She reaches out, taking the cup from me the moment I reach her.
“Gross.” I grin as I lift the warm cup to my lips.
“Gross?” She giggles. “Are you or are you not drinking your coffee black?”
“I am,” I tell her after I’ve swallowed, the liquid warming a path all the way to my stomach.
“Then how am I gross exactly?”
“Because itisgross.” I laugh at the confused expression on her face. “I don’t drink it because I like it.”
“Then why do you drink it?”
“I don’t know. Because it’s part of my habit now. I mean, why do you drink it?”
“Because I like it.” She gives me a funny look, then tips the cup to her lips, taking a tentative sip.
“You mean to tell me you actually like the taste of coffee?”
“I do.” She sets the mug on the counter beside her.
“I could maybe understand if you loaded it down with cream and sugar or something but just plain, black coffee?”
“Just plain black coffee.” She picks up the cup and takes another drink, smacking her lips together at the end. “Mmm.” She hums, setting the mug back down.
“Gross.” I chuckle, taking another drink of my coffee. While I may have gotten used to the flavor, that doesn’t mean I actually think it tastes good.
“Again, says the man drinking his coffee the exact same way,” she quips, her gaze going toward the other room when her ringtone starts playing through the apartment. “Crap,” she grumbles, sliding off the counter to go in search of her phone.
I slip around the corner right in time to watch her snag it off the coffee table and hold the device to her ear.
“What the hell? I’m fine,” she says, then pauses to listen before continuing, “I had too many glasses of wine last night and crashed on my friend’s couch.”
There’s a long pause where I assume she’s listening to the person on the other end of the phone.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call. I didn’t know I had to.” Another wave of silence.
“Okay. Okay.” She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. “Yeah, I’ll be home in a few.” Pause. “Okay, bye.” She ends the call and drops the device back onto the table.
“Everything okay?” I ask, pulling her attention to where I’m leaning against the wall, watching her.
“Yeah. I forgot to text Henna last night to let her know I wasn’t coming home.” She lets out an audible sigh. “Apparently, this is something she never does that she expects me to do.”
“Sorry I got you in trouble,” I tease, winking.
“You better be. Now I’m going to have to face the inquisitor when I get home.”
“The inquisitor?” I chuckle.
“Yeah. There’s no way she bought a line of what I just told her. Which means she’ll make it her mission today to figure out where I really was and who I really was with.”
“So then tell her.”
The instant the statement leaves my lips her eyes widen, but then she seems to become aware of her reaction and quickly tries to mask it.
“I thought we were keeping this between us?” she speaks slowly.
