ALEKS: Hey, u free tomorrow?
STEVIE: I might be…
ALEKS: Would u be free for the best muffin ever
STEVIE: That’s pretty big talk
ALEKS: I know other things that are big ;）
STEVIE: Omg.
ALEKS: I’m taking that as a yes. I’ll pick u up at 12?
STEVIE: Yes…buuut I’ll drive myself
ALEKS: Where’s the fun in that?
STEVIE: Safety.
STEVIE: You could be a serial killer and murder me in my home
STEVIE: OR what if I have an awful time and need to escape? Can’t do that if you drive me
ALEKS: Baby I’m always a good time ;）
STEVIE:
ALEKS: Fine. There’s a place called Terrestrial Coffee
STEVIE: ok I’ll see you there
ALEKS: Sounds good
ALEKS: I don’t give off axe murderer vibes FYI
STEVIE: true, it’s more psychopathic serial killer
I snort, shutting my phone off and sliding it under my leg before turning to look out the window. I release the huge grin I’ve been holding back, letting it spread across my face.
Date one scored.
Just you wait, Stevie. I’m going to give you the best ride of your life.
FOURTEEN
* * *
STEVIE
“Don’t be nervous, Stevie. You’re hot as hell.”
I smile at myself in the little mirror of my visor, trying to pep myself up. This is the first time I’ve gone on a first date in years. I’ve been sitting in my car for five minutes, convincing myself to get the hell out. I’m not late, but I will be if I don’t get out now.
It took me over an hour to decide on an outfit. Over an hour. I had picked out an outfit last night while lying in bed and it had seemed perfect in my mind, but when I tried it on after yoga this morning…it was all wrong. I immediately threw it off and the next thing I knew, half my walk-in closet was spilled on the floor.
I settled on a cute pair of light-wash jeans and a white crochet halter top with some clear heels. I couldn’t find my nipple pasties, so I’m just free-titting it. The weather has been warming up, so I should be safe. Although, if I catch even a whiff of a breeze, I’m a little worried about how obvious my nips are going to be through the crochet—it’s an adorable flower pattern, but it doesn’t leave much to the imagination.
Oh well. It’s cute with a dash of sexy, which feels perfect for the occasion. Plus, I love how I look. I give my shoulders a roll before snatching my purse from the passenger seat and slipping out of the car. I tap the handle to lock it before taking a picture of the parking spot, so I remember where it is.
Tossing my keys into my purse, I make my way out of the lot and walk the two blocks to the café. It’s a cute place that I haven’t been to before and definitely not the sort of place I would’ve pegged him to pick. He gave off more indie, grunge coffee shop vibes, not minimalistic, plant-parent coffee shop vibes.
The exterior of the café is all floor-to-ceiling glass with a quaint, neon green sign, so I can already see inside to the all-black interior with a copious number of hanging plants and retro light fittings that create a yellow haze. I’m not the best at recognizing plants, but I can at least tell there are several large monstera plants dotted all over the place. If they make good coffee, I might just have to add this as a new go-to coffee shop.
I pull the door open and step inside, greeted with the smell of freshly roasted coffee and the lightly sweet scent of fresh-baked pastries. Just the smell of caffeine wakes me up a little. There are a couple of tables free, but I can spot some cream C-shaped couches in the back of the shop that look too inviting to pass up.
I don’t know whether I should claim a couch now or wait here for Aleks so he can find me easier.
I take another glance at my phone but don’t have any new messages from him. It’s five past twelve. Five minutes late isn’t bad, but…wouldn’t he let me know if he was running late?
He wouldn’t stand me up, would he?
Catching myself swaying back and forth on the balls of my feet, I shake out my hands and wander closer to the large marble counter to distract myself with the various pastries enclosed in glass. The flaky golden crust of the maple croissant looks really inviting, but so does the gooey carrot cake muffin. I bite my bottom lip when I spot a matcha macaron as well. This place seems to have it all.
Looking up at the drinks, my upper lip curls momentarily when I spot a lavender latte. Too damn sweet. I’ve made that mistake one too many times. A pistachio latte, though? That could be promising. Or maybe I should just go with a black coffee, save myself the risk of not liking what I pick and pretending to sip it during the entire date.
This is a date, right?
Shit.
Is it just a hang out, a meet-up? People grab drinks all the time at bars, and those aren’t technically dates…wouldn’t grabbing coffee fall into the same category?
The sound of a loud engine pulling up outside startles me from my thoughts, and I turn to look out the windows and see a sleek black motorcycle stop in front of the shop. The guy on it seamlessly swings off before lifting off his red helmet.
My breathing stops as I watch Aleks shake his head before running his hand through his hair. My eyes zero in on the way his biceps flex at the action. He is wearing another tight T-shirt today, and I am not complaining. I almost want to petition that he only wears T-shirts with tight sleeves. That or he can go just plain shirtless. Although, a sleeveless tee would be sexy, too. Maybe then I could see how far his tattoos reach.
I watch him check his phone with a frown before jogging to the door. We make eye contact, and he gives me an apologetic smile.
“Hey, sorry I’m late. There was a crash on the highway.”
There is a light sheen of sweat on his neck that shouldn’t look sexy but really is when paired with the prominent vein peeking through. I want to lick it.
Oh my god, Horny Stevie can’t be making an appearance already. The man has been in my vicinity for negative five seconds.
“Totally fine, you’ll just have to buy my coffee to make up for it.”
He chuckles deeply, and it niggles something in my chest. “I was always going to buy you coffee and some food. Take your pick.”
I nod, trying to stifle my small smile. “Alright, let’s see.”
I order the pistachio latte with an extra shot of espresso and the maple croissant. Aleks, to my surprise, orders a mocha whipped coffee with oat milk and the vegan double-chocolate muffin warmed up. I would’ve bet money on him ordering a black coffee, and I would have lost every cent.
“Are you vegan?” I query him.
“No, but my friend is and this is her favorite place. She introduced me and my friends to it because she loves this muffin and swears by it. I was hesitant at first because, well, it’s a vegan muffin. But it’s really freaking good.”
She?
“Oh, that’s cool.”
Is she just a female friend, or is she something more? Obviously not someone’s girlfriend or he would have referred to her in that way. I’m concocting an image of a total knockout in my mind. Aleks is hot; there’s no way his “friends” aren’t hot as well. Also, guys rarely have female friends they haven’t contemplated banging at least once. Just look at Chase.
Dammit, I’m getting jealous over a girl I know absolutely nothing about. Horny Stevie has turned into Green-Eyed Monster Stevie. Stupid.