“It’s shiny,” Luke agrees. “So, can I have a cup? Or is it just for looking at?”
“Patience. The machine needs to warm up.”
I lean back against the counter, crossing my arms over my chest (I have discarded the duvet and put on Luke’s oversized t-shirt).
“This is great,” I say, gesturing to the machine. “I can’t wait to dial in the extraction next time I stay over.”
The words hang in the air.
Next time.
I freeze. My stomach does a sour flip.
Stupid,I think.Stupid, stupid York.
I look at Luke. He hasn't flinched. But the insecurity, the old York paranoia, rears its ugly head.
“I mean,” I start backpedaling, my voice rising in pitch. “If… if there is a next time. I know how this works. Sunday mornings are different than Saturday nights. I know guys say things in the dark that expire by brunch.”
I look down at my bare feet.
“I know I’m a lot,” I mumble. “I bought an appliance foryour house on a first date. That’s insane. I’m aware it’s insane. You probably think I’m trying to buy my way into your drawers again, but I promise, I just really hate Folgers, and I?—”
“Preston.”
Luke steps forward. He puts his hands on the counter on either side of me, trapping me.
“Look at me.”
I look up. He’s not laughing. He looks… solid.
“You think I slept with you for a coffee maker?” he asks.
“No. Maybe. I don't know,” I admit. “People have done more for less. I’m the Spare, Luke. I’m the fun one. I’m the one people date until they find someone serious.”
Luke stares at me. He reaches out and tucks a piece of messy hair behind my ear.
“You bought an appliance, Preston,” he says softly. “That takes up counter space. In Queens, counter space is more valuable than gold.”
He kisses my nose.
“That machine isn't going anywhere,” he says. “And neither are you. Unless you want to? Because I was planning on taking you to get bagels in an hour.”
I stare at him. The panic in my chest loosens, unspooling into something warm.
“Bagels?” I ask.
“Everything bagels. With lox.”
“Okay,” I whisper. “Yeah. I’m not going anywhere.”
Luke smiles. He leans in and kisses me—a slow, coffee-flavoured promise.
“Good. Now, we smell like sex and tacos. Shower.Then bagels.”
The shower is small.
It is a fibreglass stall that was clearly designed for one person who stands very still. Fitting two grown men inside is a lesson in physics and intimacy.
