She shakes her head. ‘No, I was waiting for you.’
‘I’ll go get it. Do you want your usual?’
‘Yes, please.’
‘Hungry? Want something to share?’ I ask. ‘Do you want me to see if they have those muffins you like?’
Her lips part in surprise. I’ve noticed her bring in a muffin a few times since she’s moved in. I always take note of these things, so I don’t know why she’s shocked. I remember all the little things she likes and all her quirks. We were best friends for years before our relationship developed into something more. Sometimes, I think she’s convinced the crush she had all those years was totally one-sided. I mean, sure, for a while it was, but for an even longer time, it wasn’t.
I like her like this. Soft and casual. Clad in tight yoga pants, a singlet and a cardigan that slips off her shoulder. Her blue-light glasses are perched on her nose and, despite their size, her doe-eyes are not hidden behind them. If anything, they stand out more. My gaze roams her face, taking in her rosy cheeks and the little freckles on her nose. I want to kiss each of them, like I used to.
‘Sure,’ she replies, a little hesitantly. ‘Sounds good.’
I’m all too aware of how date-like this seems, but it has always been this way between us. If anything, I’m glad it’s happening again. It gives me hope that not all has been lost between us.
Making my way over to the counter, I order and lean on it. I sift through the books that are sitting in the trolley, waiting to go to their places on the shelves. I read a little while I was away, but have gotten out of the habit since being back. Grabbing a thriller that piques my interest, I pay for that as well, and by the time I’m putting my wallet away, my order is ready. Returning to the table, I place it down.
‘You bought a book?’
I shrug. ‘Yeah. I want to get back into reading.’
She picks it up, surveying it for a moment, before flipping it to read the blurb on the back. ‘Let me know how it is. I’ll borrow it if you like it.’
‘Sounds good.’
She slides the book back over and I reach for it, our fingers brushing. She quickly yanks her hand away, placing it in her lap, as if she’s afraid if she left it there something disastrous might happen. Like we mighthold hands. Smiling, I lean back, slightly enjoying how flustered I make her. She’s been doing a fantastic job of appearing unaffected, but I can see the cracks in her facade appearing, especially since my tongue was inside her yesterday. As if I said my thoughts aloud, her cheeks blush their usual red.
I take a long sip of my coffee, then split the muffin in half. I scoop a piece onto my spoon and take a bite.
‘Good, right?’ She smiles.
‘Delicious,’ I reply. ‘Like you.’
She groans. ‘My God, Mase. You can’t just say things like that with a straight face.’
‘Why not?’ I grin. ‘I enjoy watching you squirm.’
‘Oh, I know you do.’
I pull out my laptop and open it up. Clicking on the latest document I saved, I scan through my notes. They’re riddled with spelling errors and sentences that make zero sense.
‘What?’ Anya asks, noticing the pinched expression on my face.
‘My notes never make any fucking sense,’ I say. ‘I don’t know how we can take notes when they talk and go through the slides so quickly.’ I peer over the top of the screen. ‘You know, you’re freakishly fast at typing.’
‘I’ve had a lot of practice. Turn your AirDrop on, I’ll send you some of my notes.’
‘Oh, thanks. Appreciate that.’
‘No problem.’
Her notes appear on my screen and, of course, they’re much neater and more polished than mine. We work in silence for the next few minutes and soon the coffee is long gone, the plate that held the muffin is empty and my eyes are starting to hurt from staring at the screen. I’ve never been big on studying before, but I’m trying my best to improve in every area of my life that was lacking in the past. Turning up and trying are big priorities. Attending all my football practices is another. Then there’s the other area, the one that’s the most difficult: Proving to Anya that I’m here for her, and I’m not leaving anytime soon.
‘Are you coming to the game on Friday?’ I ask.
‘Of course,’ she answers. Closing her laptop, she rests back against the seat. Pulling her glasses off, she rubs her eyes. ‘I never miss a game, you know that.’
‘Good. Just checking.’
