“Ready?” He gave me his arm and I took it following him outside. This was probably the riskiest thing I’d done since the cancer, chemo, and the amputation. Besides the summer running camp, I usually socialized with my close group of girlfriends and family. Dating had been off my radar for a long time and the small can of mace I kept handy didn’t look like it would dissuade him, though he’d been nothing but a perfect gentleman to me the entire time. This guy brought a whole different ball game to fitness. His body was solid as a rock, firm and ruddy with his tan skin and boyish good looks.
“Just coffee?” I remind him and he chuffed agreeing.
“I’m not a guy who presumes or says something he doesn’t mean. You can invite your friends. I assume one of them is your sister, right?” David doesn’t look the least bit bothered by my need to make sure he isn’t a wild ax wielding murderer.
I scrunch my nose tamping down my grin. “I have a feeling they wouldn’t let us chat anyway.” I smirked glancing back at them. Dijah made shooing motions with thumbs up while Kelsey pulled her back into the fray.
He grinned and held open the door, “After you then, Supergirl.”
I followed his lead outside onto the street and into the cool air. Our arms linked together automatically as if this were a romantic stroll. He positioned his body between me and the passerby’s that looked a little worse for wear out here on a Saturday night.
“Coffee and a cupcake at least.”
We chatted heading for the shop, small talk about the weather changing, and the latest movies out in the theater. We both enjoyed the Marvel franchise and he shyly admitted he thought I looked a bit like Zendaya which I found sweet and oddly endearing. He opened the coffee shop door leading me in. A few people lingered inside talking close and snuggled into plush velvet chairs in rich reds. A leather two seat sofa occupied a corner and we headed in that direction.
“Here?” He asked letting me sit down first.
“Sure.” I dropped my clutch on the table and he went to the counter to order our drinks. I pulled the top of my over the knee boot higher and made sure my opaque stockings covered the flesh covered joint of my prosthetic. I didn’t think I’d ever done that before, but this coffee date started to feel like something else the moment he gave me his ID to snap. I looked at the artwork on the wall and tapped my fingers along the top of my boot. Tempted to pick up my cell phone and message my sister for an SOS rescue.
David placed our drinks down followed by a plate with apple spice cupcakes. They were out of red velvet, but at least he got my coffee right. Sweet, no cream.
The couch swallowed us in forcing me to sink deeper next to him. My hips shifted and my prosthetic leg pressed into my good leg reminding me I wasn’t as normal as I liked to pretend. I arranged myself casually and well practiced. I hadn’t decided if I’ll tell him now, tonight, or never. Part of me doesn’t think he’ll care that the girl sitting next to him was missing anything, certainly not a limb, but old hurts and insecurities kept my lips frozen from the truth.
“This caramel coffee was something I missed a lot while I was away.” I watched him sip the coffee savoring it. Observing his appreciation for slow roasted, small batch caffeine was an experience. His eyes shuttered and a relaxed expression washed over him.
“Away? Like work travel?” I asked sipping my coffee while keeping an eye on D
avid over the rim of the cup.
His face creased in a muted grunt. “Something like that. I served in the military, and after my last tour, I was given a medical discharge.”
My heart skipped a beat and I wondered if this was the moment he flipped out and my fears about trust were reinforced. I’d just met him in a bar and left my ride home to have coffee. Taking a chance, I placed my hand on his knee. “Can I ask what happened?”
“Sure. It’s not a secret.” His hands held the coffee cup tight and he paused before starting again. His face lost the reverence for the coffee and I missed that peace he showed me a moment ago. “My unit was in a blast zone and one of our rovers went over an IED. Lost a few guys and I was injured.”
“I am so sorry you went through that.” I put the coffee down and touched his arm.
His face turned to mine and our eyes meet in the light of the coffee shop. It’s not bright, but it doesn’t have the murky tone like the bar. Faint scars are visible on the left side of his face from his hairline to the corner of his eye leading back toward his ear and down his neck. It doesn’t disfigure him, if anything it makes his features harsher, broodier, hot.
It doesn’t take a therapy license to see he doesn’t take well to my empathy. I knew a certain level of loss profoundly, but he was much fresher in the process. I also don’t want to compare our experiences because it was like apples to oranges in the most basic sense and rudely dismissive. It definitely didn’t feel like the right time to whip out my leg and say, me too. I pulled my hand away feeling his rejection, but he snatched my hand back holding it and turning it over to link our fingers together.
“I didn’t tell you so you would feel bad. I’m not looking for that.” The words tumbled from his lips in a monotone voice.
I still wanted him. I was still attracted to him, but where was this going? I had the school year starting on Monday and my time would be insanely occupied. If he was game, I was in ready to throw some actual caution to the wind.
I nudged him in the shoulder aiming to deflect toward better topics. “That explains your brick house.”
We chuckled and the tension melted away with the smoothness of our caramel coffees.
“The gym does help. Keeps my head occupied and my body healthy.” He said.
“I’m a bit of a fanatic myself.” Loosening the hold on my hand, I touched his knee and danced my finger up his thigh in what I hoped was the universal language for let’s go somewhere else. We didn’t need to discuss wounded pasts. I didn’t want to rehash mine probably as much as he didn’t want to rehash his. I hoped instead to feel more of his incredible body against me.
“How fanatical?”
“At least five times a week.” I forced the innuendo between us. He didn’t need to know I wasn’t talking about sex. He rolled with it not even trying to hide his grin. I waggled my eyebrows earning me a hearty chuckle as he tried to finish his coffee.
“I don’t want to assume things here, but…”