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I nod. "We have money, but not Ivy League tuition money. My parents got really lucky with their business. They didn't do the usual 'authentic restaurant' thing. Well, they kinda did, but they packaged it more like a Vietnamese Blue Bottle. Expensive iced coffee and pastries for hipsters."
"That's smart."
"Yeah. They were really smart. And lucky too. They work hard, but there's always luck."
"I get it."
"They expanded all over Orange County. They have an actual chain."
"A pastry and coffee chain?"
"Yeah," I say.
"But you drink tea?"
"I like tea."
"And you like that they don't like it?" He sits on the couch and presses his finger to my chest. "You're a rebel."
The spot between my breasts, over my heart.
I'm naked on his couch and he's touching my chest and, somehow, it's all affection.
I do like him.
I do like this.
It's not just an appreciation of his skills or a desire to screw him again. It's more.
"It may have occurred to me," I say.
He smiles. "And cake? Do you like that?"
"It's sugar and flour. No nuance."
"Mm-hmm. That's it. All of it." He offers a plain white t-shirt.
"Because it's see-through?"
"Didn't consider that." He holds up his crossed fingers.
I sit up and shift into the t-shirt. Then the pair of boxers. They're a little big on me, but they're comfortable that way.
"That is why you got into tea?"
"Everyone thinks it's because I'm Asian. Even in Orange County, where people should know better." I shake my head. "But my parents rarely make tea. They're always pushing coffee. So I… it was that at first, but I really do love it."
"The subtlety?"
"Yeah."
"I have bad news."
"Oh?"
"I'm not a subtle chef."
"Really? I'm shocked."
