Daemen's smile widened to reveal his pearly white teeth. "Wonderful. And remember, it's just Daemen." He winked. "I'll arrange a car to pick you up around noon. See you tomorrow, Miguel."
"S-see you."
I stumbled out of the car feeling like I'd been whisked away to another dimension. Daemen waved and drove off, leaving me standing on the curb in front of my building.
"What the hell just happened?" I said to nobody.
* * *
I woke up in a daze,still convinced last night was a fever dream. Either that or I had a hallucinatory concussion or something.
Showing up to our coffee date—coffeeexperience, I should say, because it sure as fuck was not a date—felt surreal. The online friends I hung out with preferred digital outings on life simulators instead of actual, physical spaces. The last time I'd been to a coffee shop with someone who wasn't my sister was in college, AKA a long ass time ago.
I'd almost forgotten Daemen said he'd "arrange a car" to pick me up until I walked out of my building and saw a fancy, expensive vehicle idling by the curb. It didn't even register it was there for me until the chauffeur called my name. I hopped in, dazed and awed.
I thanked the driver and tried to pay him, but he insisted it was already taken care of and deposited me before driving off in front of the charming cafe. The scent of coffee and warm pastries spiced up the cold air.
I arrived a bit early, the same way I did with my date with Paul "xXd3monl0rdXx", except this time I prayed to any god who would listennotto let this end up the same way. I couldn't handle the debilitating shame a second time.
But Daemen was not Paul. When I awkwardly shuffled into the cafe, I saw him instantly. It was impossible not to—the man was a glowing beacon of pure beauty. His skin was pale but not pasty, more like the smooth glossy sheen of a porcelain doll than a white nerd who revelled in the basement and abhorred the sun. Those sharp blue eyes cut across the room like knives stabbing their target—me. And of course, when his eyes met mine, he flashed me that brilliant smile.
My throat suddenly felt thick. I swallowed.
"Miguel!" Daemen called. "So glad you made it."
He stood up to greet me. I'd been too distracted to notice earlier, but he was taller and broader than me, with model-like proportions. He didn't have a single hair out of place while mine got blown out of shape by the wind the second I stepped outside. Next to him I must've looked short and frumpy.
I tried to push those thoughts out of my head. My self-confidence wasn't the best, sure, but I didn't want to dwell too hard on it while trying to have a good time with Daemen.
"Hey, of course," I said, returning his smile, though mine was lopsided and not belongs-on-a-magazine-cover worthy like his. "I wouldn't miss this."
Oh god, why did I say that? Now I sounded desperate. But Daemen's beaming expression didn't change.
"Please, sit," he encouraged.
I sat.
"Have you been here before?"
"No, I haven't."
"Their London fog chai latte is todiefor. A bit of spice, a lot of sweet..." He winked. "Just the way I like it."
Hedidwink at me, right? It wasn't just a random twitch of his eye.
"Ooh, that does sound good," I replied.
I glanced down at the menu but couldn't concentrate on the words. All I could feel was Daemen's gaze on me, like a cat biding its time to pounce on a mouse.
It wasn’t my imagination. He was staring at me. Still, I had to double check. My eyes flicked up over the top of the menu, just for a split second, and sure enough, Daemen was watching me intensely. The heat in my cheeks blasted up to 100.
I wasn't used to this kind of attention. But being watched by Daemen wasn't uncomfortable. It was just... odd. Because why would he? Did he think that if he looked at me long enough, a sexier version of me would pop out?
"Do you like cookies, Miguel?" Daemen asked.
"Uh," I said, taken aback by the sudden question. "Yeah, I do! Who doesn’t like cookies?"
This seemed to delight him. "Excellent! They have plenty of flavors here. Want to try one of each? We could do a cookie sampler."
