“I didn’t want to pressure him if he wasn’t ready or if I read the situation wrong.”
“Okay, for starters, I can tell you, you did not read the situation wrong. Next, pressure is pushing past a no. Responding to a very obvious green light is called participating, it’s advancing the moment.”
“So what do I do?”
“Meet him where he’s at and give him something he can actually work with, more than just you have a request, here, request fulfilled. Lean in close. Touch him back. Let him knowwhat being around him does for you. Compliment him. Hell, breathe suggestively in his direction. Anything that lets him know it’s safe to wade deeper into this and that he isn’t alone. He can’t be the only one initiating all the hard first steps.
“You think I flubbed that badly?”
“I think you tripped, fell down the stairs, and landed in a box called missed opportunities: fragile.”
“Sheesh. I’m really getting it from all sides. First Ez and now you.”
“Ah, good, so you involved him. At least that means one person with skin in the flirting game has been training the baby duckling.”
“Gee thanks.”
“It needs to be said. You know if the nightclub bartender recognizes where you’re lacking, it’s legit. In fact, it shouldn’t have ever needed to come to me if you had Ezra giving you this feedback. But just be grateful it’s me you’re sharing this with and not Shawn.”
“You’re right. I’d never hear the end of it.”
“No, you wouldn’t. Don’t worry, though, despite your seeming hopelessness thus far, I think we can avoid involving the overenthusiastic fairy godmother.”
“Or maybe I need help from everyone willing to give it,” I said.
“Look, people don’t test boundaries the way your roommate did unless they feel safe enough to hope, so you’ve done something right. It’s just your follow through that’s lacking. Give him reason to believe his hope isn’t misplaced.”
“Okay, yeah, I’ll make sure if he does something like that again to meet him more than a few steps.”
“Great. Now show me you listened to the sound advice from apparently both your buddy and now me, and next time we chat bring me a juicy update.”
I chuckled. “I’ll do my best to deliver.”
The day had turned into one crisis after another. My eight hour shift turning into twelve, making it closer to my bedtime than not by the time I got home.
I found Oliver on the couch, legs curled beneath him, a book in hand.
“Hey,” he murmured, marking his place and setting the book aside. “You’re home later than I thought you’d be.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry, I didn’t get the chance to message you. A situation with one of my clients came up that we couldn’t delay.”
“I understand. Your schedule can be demanding, and you’re not always in a position to message me. I made dinner. It’s in the fridge if you’re hungry.”
“Thank you. I actually ended up getting some grub with the team before we left, but you can bet I’ll be raiding the fridge for leftovers tomorrow. Whatever’s creating that cinnamon cloud, though, is another story.”
“That’s chai I made. Do you want some?”
“A warm cup of spicy, cozy goodness? Hell yes, I want some. The perfect remedy for the day I’ve had.”
I made to follow him into the kitchen, but he turned with a soft, chiding sound and a mock-stern finger pointed toward the couch. “I’ll get it. You rest.”
“Bossy,” I joked.
“Yes, and you’ll do as I say, or no chai for you,” he called over his shoulder.
“Damn. Bossy and a disciplinarian.”
“You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
