More Dessert

Where we left off:

“Well I imagine your thoughts are worth getting lost in.” Then he smiles this boyish smile like he couldn’t believe he had just said that and now I’m completely captivated.

“Yeah, maybe not as interesting as you might think.”

“Try me”

“Don’t you have a final to study for?”

“Actually I’m a T.A. I’ll be giving the final not taking it but I’ve seen you here before and,” nervous laughter, clearing throat? “I guess I just - I mean -“ Shall I just put you out of your misery? I smile as he fumbles for the right words. 

“You know I could use a cup of coffee, do you know a good place around campus?”

----


He did, he knew a few actually which made my life a little difficult because I'm indecisive. But it was cold so I picked the closest one. He lied and said it was his favorite but it didn't matter because I was caught up in his gorgeous. The uncertain way he pulled at one of the straps of his backpack. The awkward way he put his hands in his front pockets and hunched over. The decisive manner he ordered his drink. It's strange how he can be that confident and act so unsure of himself at the same time but I was hooked. His dark hair framed his face well and a strong well structure face it was. I could have beautiful babies with this man.

"What did you want to drink?", he asked.

"Oh, do they have chamomile?" I said that as if I was being snapped out of a dream. Geeze, why is it so hard to focus when I'm staring at you?  Honestly, why did I ask for coffee when I prefer tea? Don’t get me wrong, I'm very proud of you, Mara. Way to think on your feet and come up with that so quickly but you don't even drink coffee anymore.

“They don’t have chamomile but they have this calm tea, its pretty good. How does that sound?”

"Yeah, the calming one is fine too. It's basically the same thing, right? Yeah that's fine. Thanks!" Naturally, I fumble through my bag to find my wallet and pay but he's already paid. "You didn't have to do that. I could have gotten it."

"It was like three dollars, not a big deal. You can get the next one if it means that much to you." Then he smiles this devious little smile as if to say; you could try to pay next time but I'd never let you. He lets that sentence hang on the corner of his mouth for a while. Mostly because he doesn't even realize it's there. I don't tell him. I like how it lingers on his face. Like a kid trying so hard to keep a secret.

“Well thank you. I’ve got the next one for sure.” I won’t pop his bubble but I will let him know I’d like to see him again. 
He leaves to get our drinks and when he comes back we pick up the conversation where it left off. We don’t even skip a beat. We were discussing literary quality in today's newest novels, or shall we say lack of quality. I'm not even sure if I remember his name at this point, but his voice is soothing. It sits in the lower register and hums. Definitely a baritone but not Barry White lulling you into his bedroom deep. It just has a distinct manly quality to it. How do his students stay awake? How do the girls focus? What was his name? Ian? Aidan! Aidan something... 

It's about time I stopped staring and interject. I'd hate for him to think I wasn't paying attention, or worse aloof 
"I love that movies are taking inspiration from books these days but it's starting a literary trend of 'made for screen production books' instead of noteworthy novels. When was the last time you read a book that was thought provoking and not just provocative or heart wrenching?"
Hurray for multitasking. Do other people do this too? I can’t even remember the last time I spoke to a stranger for this long and had the conversation flow so well – except – he had stopped talking. I hate when that happens it’s like someone suddenly put a spot light on you and then the sweat happens and that’s just not cute “What?”

He’s staring at me like - like I’m cheesecake that hasn’t quite set yet but he’s willing to wait patiently.

“Nothing, you’re just adorable. How do you fit in that chair like that?
 He was referring to the way I brought my legs into the chair Indian style and still fit perfectly in the armed chair. I cupped my tea in both hands took a sip and allowed them to settle in my lap. "I don't know it's easy."
He scoffs at the idea of it being easy for him and proceeds to attempt the inconcevable.
"Please, stop!" We're both laughing hysterically at this point and he's still trying to fit himself Indian style in the chair. In between laughter i manage to say, "Oh my goodness you're going to hurt yourself. Stop." Then as if we had been friends forever, as if the motion wouldn't mean a thing, I involuntarily reached out and placed my hand on his knee to make him stop. He let his hand cover mine and our eyes locked. This is cheesecake, God give me patience to let it set this could be the best dessert yet.