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“You may have a good point, but I don’t have to burn the candle at both ends every single night.”
“Whatever. I know you’ll thank me later.” He’s possibly right. “What are you up to today?”
I’m about to open my mouth to answer when another waitress holding a tray approaches us. Yes. Coffee.
“Morning. Who ordered the single-shot extra-tall latte?”
“Well, good morning to you too, gorgeous. I guess I’m the lucky one.” Collin is at it again. I roll my eyes, thinking this girl is yet another one of those groupies who’s more than willing to drop to her knees any second now and give my friend the blowjob of his life just to be able to brag about it to her girlfriends. I’m already bracing myself, but when Collin flashes her his signature I’m-a-hot-celebrity-and-I-know-you-recognize-me grin, she doesn’t flinch. She just stares back at him with an even face. Weird.
Ignoring his advances, she continues. “Here you go. Enjoy,” she says flatly as she places Collin’s huge mug on the table in front of him. “We have some raw sugar on the table,” she says, pointing in front of her, “but if you want some white, I can get you some from the bar.”
I guess Collin must’ve also noticed her indifference, because he presses harder. “Do I detect an accent?”
She curls up her lips, but it’s not a smile. “Funny, I was about to ask the same thing about you.” I nearly choke laughing at her response. She either has no idea who Collin is or she’s playing hard to get. “I guess the extra-hot double shot of espresso is yours, then?” She turns to face me and lifts my very large mug from the tray ready to place it in front of me, but when I meet her eyes I freeze, mesmerized. Inadvertently, her hand brushes mine and the contact sends an unexpected jolt down my spine.
I blame a long night of fornication, severe lack of sleep and the fact that from this vantage point the sun bounces in her irises, revealing the most seductive yellow shade I’ve ever seen in my life, for the fact that I clumsily knock my cup over.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I say as the coffee runs all over the table.
“Oh, my God,” she shrieks, panicked. “This is piping hot.” No kidding.
Worried, I jump to my feet to avoid getting burned. I love my cock and my balls way too much to risk anything this stupid. In my haste, I bump into the chair of a patron behind me wearing a Dodgers baseball cap. “Crap. Sorry,” I apologize, conscious I’m disturbing everyone’s breakfast.
The guy raises his hand. “Don’t worry about it, buddy. I’d jump as well if I saw hot coffee coming at my private parts like that.” He chuckles before stuffing a forkful of pancakes in his mouth.
Once I’m out of harm’s way, I find my voice again and I’m able to string together a full sentence again. “Are you all right?” I ask the waitress.
“Yes, I am. I’m more concerned about you,” she says, sweeping a few strands of reddish-brown hair away from her face with the back of her hand. “I’m so terribly sorry.”
“Please, don’t apologize. It’s my fault. I was inattentive,” I reassure her. Of course, I avoid admitting she’s the real reason behind my distraction.
For the first time since the beginning of this fiasco, Collin adds his two cents. “Fuck, man, you’re a mess this morning.”
“Shut up.”
“Accidents do happen,” the gorgeous waitress says in my defense. Our gazes meet again and she stares for a few long seconds. She hesitates and then blushes before speaking. “Let me run to the bar to grab a cloth. I’ll have this table cleaned up in a flash. Please don’t try to soak up the liquid with paper napkins because this coffee is super caliente.”
“Got it.”
I watch the petite waitress wiggle her curvy hips away from me. She turns around briefly and when she sees my eyes are still glued on her, she folds her bottom lip inside her mouth. Damn. This is only supposed to be breakfast. How in the hell did it turn into a flirting game?
Collin breaks the spell. “One thing is certain, that girl can’t be from LA or else she wouldn’t be so focused on you,” he says, pointing to the waitress who caught my attention.
“Oh, don’t be jealous, Dennison. I’m sure it won’t take you much to convince the blonde with the fake acrylic nails who’s been tripping all over herself to go out with you right after we’re done here.”
“Testy. You definitely need that coffee,” he mocks. His eyes shift in Nadine’s direction. “If I do hook up with her, one thing is sure, I’ll have a better afternoon than you will.” He grins from ear to ear.
The waitress with amber eyes rushes back with a couple of her colleagues to help clean up our table. When all traces of my clumsiness are erased, the two other employees walk back to the bar, but the petite curvy brunette lingers a bit longer. She flashes me a shy smile. I respond with a side grin and I tell myself there’s no way I’m leaving this place without getting her name and phone number.
Once the storm I caused passes, Nadine waltzes our way with a big tray of food that’s way too heavy for her to carry comfortably. She drops our individual plates in front of us before placing my guanabana juice in front of me. She’s just about to say something when a woman sitting right behind her calls out her name. Nadine is obviously annoyed because she rolls her eyes before walking away, leaving us to enjoy our breakfast.
The Hungry Surfer’s breakfast does justice to the name. The baked egg dish is served in a medium-size cast-iron skillet and from the snap-crackle-pop sound, it’s still quite hot. It’s hearty for sure—a bed of semi-mashed white beans and two eggs that sit under a topping of shredded Parmesan, crispy fried breadcrumbs and diced bacon. It’s served with a thick slice of rustic bread that screams homemade.
“This will hit the spot nicely,” I say, already salivating.
“Damn right it will.”
“I’ll do my best not to spill my food all over myself.” I chuckle, picking up my knife and fork.
