The other day, he texted me and asked if I still drank coffee like other people drank water. I laughed so loudly that the person in front of me in line at Starbucks turned around to see what was so funny.
I start to text him back, not expecting a reply. Like me, Hollis works crazy hours. He probably won’t be up for hours.
Me
Does caffeine count as protein?
To my utter surprise, three dots start to appear almost instantly. I don’t know why my heart begins to flutter.
When they disappear, I feel a pang of disappointment. But it’s quickly erased when my phone starts to vibrate and I see his name flash across the screen.
“What the hell are you doing up?” I say, not bothering to say hello. I set my phone on speaker and place it on my lap.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
It’s still so weird and thrilling to hear his voice.
“I can’t sleep,” I admit.
“Rough day at the office?” His tone may be light, but I can sense the question isn’t. He genuinely seems interested in my life, and it’s nice to have someone to talk to about it.
I’ve never been great at making friends. Most people assume that because I work in a bar and enjoy going to concerts, I’m outgoing, but I’m actually quite shy.
When I’m around people I know and love, I can be loud and animated, but at work, it’s easy to get overwhelmed surrounded by strangers all the time.
It’s why I tend to hire people like Jace. People who are naturally charismatic and confident. People who can step in and handle the small talk when my social battery dies halfway through the night.
People who don’t have to fake it.
“You could say that,” I answer, letting my eyes close as I lean my head against the cushion.
“Something go wrong with the band? I looked them up, and they seem to have a good reputation. Nice following too.”
He looked them up? “Um, no,” I answer, feeling somewhat off kilter. “They were great. One of my favorites so far this year, actually.”
“Yeah? That’s awesome. I bet they filled the place up.”
“Yup,” I answer, feeling my mood souring. “We were packed.”
“Short-staffed?”
“How’d you guess?”
“Call it my sixth sense from being in the business for so long,” he says.
I hesitate for a moment before admitting to him. “Jace and I had an argument right before we opened, and he walked out on his shift.”
“He what?”
“He walked out,” I repeat. “He saw a text from you on my phone, went nuclear, and stormed out.”
“Wait. Why would that set him off?”
I leave out the more intimate details of the encounter—like how he was feeling me up when he saw it. Or the slight hesitation I gave after he asked if we were more than just friends.
“He just got jealous,” I explain. “Seeing another guy texting me.”
“That’s ridiculous, Pres. I’m nearly three thousand miles away.”
