His laughter warmed me, and I was glad I hadn't seemed to offend him.
"Wow, that was the quickest I've ever seen someone go tomato red and then curse. That was super cute, by the way. It's like when a toddler uses a cuss word. You know you shouldn't laugh, but it's just so dang adorable, you can't help it. That's you. I don't expect it, but when I hear it, it definitely makes me wonder what other things can come from your mouth."
For a moment, I was stunned, and then the laugh flew from my lips, leaving me feeling lighter. His sweet little smirk warmed my heart, and I found myself liking his company.
"Thanks for not taking offense. I'm usually much better with words," I admitted.
"It's okay. You can confess I fluster you," he joked. "But, nah, I'm used to people responding weirdly, unfortunately, not that yours was weird. Ugh, it seems your word vomit is contagious, or I'm not much better at this talking thing, at least with women. I've always been the awkward nerd with the crush on the cheerleader."
"I don't think you're awkward at all. Not unless I'm awkward too? I mean, I haven't dated anyone since I was sixteen, so maybe I'm not the best judge."
Sadness wanted to creep in at that thought, but I shoved it way back and instead focused on the friendly chatter of a new friend. Redirecting the conversation back to him, I tried again. "So, you were in foster care? What was that like, if you don't mind me asking?"
"I don't mind. My mom died when I was young, and my grandmother tried her best to care for me, but she didn't have much to give between her diabetes and living off government assistance. When I was about ten, I was removed from her home after coming to school for a week in the same clothes and no food. The foster homes weren't bad at first, but as I got older," he winced, "the ones willing to take in teens, well, they aren't the people always in it for the right reasons. I ended up at a group home when I was fourteen and stayed there until I graduated. It wasn't all bad, though," he finished, but something in his voice didn't ring true, and I began to worry even more about Jude.
I know other kids struggled too, but at the moment, he was the only one on my radar. The coffee shop was looming closer, and I wondered if he would follow me in or not.
"I usually stop and get coffee. What about you? Are you a coffee drinker?"
"Oh yes, and I love this place. Come on, let's get some life-sustaining juice."
"Oh, no. You're one of them."
"One of them?" he asked, looking at me oddly.
"Coffee fanatics," I joked. "I mean, I'm addicted to the stuff, don't get me wrong. I just don't see it as some life-altering substance. So to me, those people who do are the true crazy coffee junkies," I reasoned.
"Huh, well, I'm a proud member then." He grinned. I was finding I liked his smile more and more. Monroe was easy to be around. He didn't make me nervous, and I liked that we had the divorce thing in common. For some reason, it seemed to put us on equal ground, and I quite liked it. After we ordered, we moved off to the side to wait for our drinks.
"I was wondering," Monroe started, "if maybe you would want to come over for dinner sometime this week? Friends, if you're not ready for anything more," he added quickly.
The feelings that rushed through me confused me, and it took me a minute to wade through them all. Monroe patiently waited, maybe understanding what I was feeling. Once I stopped the emotional flood, I evaluated them individually and pinpointed the two strongest.
Fear—expected.
Excitement—interesting.
Meeting his eyes, he smiled down at me, recognition passing through me. Monroe would be okay with whatever answer I gave him right then. It was freeing in the sense that I didn't have to manage his emotions for him. I could answer how I felt and not be held accountable for his reaction. He was a rare man who exhibited kindness and understanding, and I realized I did want to get to know him more. Whether that was just as friends or more, I wasn't sure yet.
"First time being asked since the divorce?" Monroe finally asked as our drinks were handed to us.
"Yeah, actually," I chuckled. "Surprisingly, it wasn't as scary as I expected, but I also don't know where I stand on things. I know the thought of having a meal with you makes me excited, so that's what I‘ll concentrate on. I just can't give you an answer if it's more yet. I hope that's okay."
"More than okay. I think we can be great friends and potentially more, Loren. But if we have to start as only friends, I'm good with that. I'm not a rusher in these matters. I can't be with Levi, but since you've already met him and do live across the hall, it's freeing. I don't have to hide either of you from one another. I feel like you get this more than anyone else I've met since."
I nodded, understanding hitting me. Sharing all the parts of you could be risky. I did get that. "I do, Monroe, and I look forward to continuing our friendship and seeing where that leads us. I do hope you can cook, though, because it's one thing I'm absolute crap at," I joked.
"You'll be pleased to know that I do make a mean chicken carbonara. So, we will have something edible to enjoy. I get Levi in a few days, so we can plan for then, if you don't mind him being around or we can wait until some time next week. Does either of those work better?"
"This weekend works for me. I might run to the center at some point, but otherwise, it's not like I do much," I rambled.
"Perfect, I know he'll be excited to see you again. He bugged me all weekend."
We both smiled, and I realized we were at that awkward pause where it got quiet. "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow at the elevator," I started to walk off before remembering. "Oh, anything I can bring?"
"Nope, I got it covered. See you tomorrow, Lo."
"Bye, Monroe." I waved and headed into my building.
A smile pulled at my lips, and I felt happy as I entered my office. Crazy how just an hour ago, I was contemplating calling in sick. I guess good things could happen outside my door. I just had to take a step out.