"Listen, Oz. If you say shit about Maddy, you’ll never see her again, cause you’re gonna be fucking blind from me tearing your eyes out. Don’t ogle women. You know I hate that shit when people do it to me.”
“Fuck, Duke. Sorry! You should have told me you were on your period when you came in.”
I glared at Ozzie. I didn't know why, but the idea that any other man found her attractive, even in the slightest, made me see red. I knew Ozzie was just trying to get a rise out of me. But I couldn’t help it. When my feelings blew up out of control in the past, I’d used dope to soften them, give me a sweet spot to fall, right into oblivion, until you woke up in a ditch, bloody and shivering.
"She's all yours, brother," he said, laughing. He held his hands up in the air offering a full surrender. “She didn’t even stay, you whipped cuck. She left you a coffee and love note.”
I stormed into the front area in three strides that usually took me six, just in time to see a white jeep pull out of the parking lot and back on the road.
I pulled the steaming coffee off the table and noticed writing on the napkin underneath…as well as my driver’s license…? I instinctively felt my back pocket for the bulge of my wallet. All was intact and my confusion stumbled through the steps of last night.
Free coffee for life! Thanks for saving mine yesterday. You’re a true hero to all the shitty baristas at Perks. I stole your ID and photo-copied it. (Don’t worry, I Sharpied out your address!) So, now all my hungover co-workers know that your drinks are on the house. I mean, we give them to cops so why wouldn’t we extend that offer to our local tattoo artists? Thanks for the yummy burger and walk home. This is coffee number one of the rest of your life.
I put the piece of paper to my chest and felt like I might pass the fuck out. She’d left her number on the note and it gave me the spark of hope that these feelings were, at least somewhat, mutual.
Holy shit. Somehow a night’s sleep had convinced me I’d blown it. But maybe I hadn’t?
I pulled out my phone as if on autopilot and shot off a rapid text.
ME: Thank you for the coffee.
As soon as I hit send, Ozzie ripped the phone from my hand and shook his head when he read what I wrote. "That's it? Why are you being a pussy? Let me see hers."
"Give me that back, Ozzie, before I fuckin' pummel your ass to the ground. I swear, I will break your fucking bones!"
"I'd like to see you try. You're a survivor and a fighter. You better fight for this girl cause my ass doesn't think you'll survive without her. You're a lot of things, but a stupid fuck ain't one of them. Thanks for the coffee. Thanks for the coffee, dude? This is the first girl you’re into and want to see again and you’re talking about coffee?"
Ozzie tossed the phone on the counter, and I grabbed it, heading back to my chair. I would kill him later. Break all of his fingers and not care if he couldn’t hold the ink gun ever again.
“Thanks for the coffee,” he continued to sing song. “Fucking Romeo out here batting off women like flies but doesn’t know how to talk to them.”
I could hear him still ranting, maybe at a client, maybe to the mirror. I shrugged off Ozzie’s bullshit. We’d always gone hard on one another and we were all the better for it.
I sat down and sipped the warm coffee. It was smooth and perfectly brewed and I wondered if she’d made it herself. Coffee always tasted better when someone else made it. I stared at my phone before tossing it on my workstation. What the fuck was I supposed to say? Thanks for the coffee, I can’t stop thinking about you? Thanks for the coffee, but next time come to the back and let me see you?
Not even a minute went by before the light flashed on my cell. The speed with which I snatched it up made me feel like a junkie prepping his next hit.
Madison: You're welcome. I had a great time with you. We should do it again!
Before I could talk myself out of it, or second guess, I texted her back.
Me: Me too! Would you like to do it again this week? I’m in the shop all day, but my nights are mostly free.
Madison: Only if you come over to my place and I cook you dinner. To thank you properly.
Me: It's a date.
Another date.
She wanted to see me.
All the dread and insecurity lifted and I felt entirely human again.