Coffee. God bless coffee.
Coffee keeps you strong.
16
She waits for me outside the pub in Tribeca she picked.
Dressed in dark jeans that hug her legs and a clingy top that slopes off one shoulder, she’s the woman in black. She hardly ever wears anything colorful, except her lipstick. It’s a wine red and shiny, like there’s a layer of gloss over it.
Somehow it’s fitting that she’s the color of night, because there’s a toughness to Truly. An edge. She’s no-nonsense, all business, and naturally, I want to take all those black clothes off her.
But I remind myself I need to maintain balance and exist peacefully in this state of wanting but not having. This is a normal feeling for me to have around her, and I’ve learned to live with it.
She waves, smiles, then when I reach her, she throws her arms around me. I’m taken aback, nearly knocked over by the unexpectedness of her embrace. But I’m not nimble for nothing. I seize the opportunity and sniff her hair. Fresh, clean, so very her—and do I detect the faintest scent of coffee beans? I do, and hell, now coffee reminds me of sex. “I’ll take this, and gladly. But I’m not sure what the returning hero greeting is for.”
She grasps me tighter, her arms looping around me, and yes, that’s quite nice too. “Thank you for spreading the gospel of no more manspreading.” She breaks the embrace and clasps my shoulder. “Manspreading is the bane of my existence, and you’re a superhero for doing your part to eliminate the virus that it is.”
“That’s what I’m here for. To make the world a little more civilized, one bloke at a time.”
“I see it all night long at the bar. Men have no idea how much it turns off women. I swear, I see groups of women walk away from packs of manspreaders.”
“Packs. Seems apropos for men with such wild and unruly behavior.”
“It’s almost as bad as mansplaining. That’s a touch worse, since it’s an insult to intelligence. Down with mansplainers, I say!”
“You’re on fire tonight.”
“I might have had a cup of coffee a few minutes ago.”
“So if you’re normally at a ten when it comes to energy, vim and vigor, you’re at about one hundred now?”
“Something like that. Also, coffee keeps me strong.”
“News flash—you’re already strong.”
She shoots me a look, one I can’t quite read, but it seems to fall squarely on the side of I-know-what-you-look-like-naked. “I need to be strong.”
“Okay, then.”
She gestures to the door. “Ready for pub lesson number one?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
We head inside and grab two stools at the bar, surveying the decor: leather chairs, round tables, high-backed booths, and the darkest of dark wood everywhere.
I nod appreciatively. “Looks pretty solid.” My gaze drifts to the bar itself. Beer tankards hang above it. “Very authentic.”
“Filing that tidbit away,” she says. “I picked this one because it was on my list as having promise. It has that local pub feel, right?”
“Yes, so you can check that off the list.” I peer toward the back room, cataloging the pool table, and the table football one too, then I make a note to stroll back there later for a proper survey.
“Good. Because I did a lot of research online. I don’t want you to think I’m simply going to expect you to do all the work.”
“Like when I fucked you from behind?”
Her jaw drops, and for the first time in my life, I think I might get slapped. I probably deserve it.
I definitely deserve it.
She doesn’t speak at first, just stares. “Did you really just say that?”
“Did I? Seems that might have been the little devil who sometimes takes over my mouth.”
“Gentleman, my ass.”
I shrug a little sheepishly, hoping I haven’t gone too far. “Even the best gentlemen have devils in them.”
“You and your devil are terrible.”
“Are you sure that’s what you meant? I feel like incredible was the first line in the review you gave me after.”
She shakes her head, huffing. “You’re the worst.”
“Or am I really the best?”
She leans in close. “Just a little reminder, since you seem to have forgotten some details. I did all the work when I rode you. I seem to remember you saying, Yeah, ride me like that, Truly. Let me watch you fuck me hard.”
Hallelujah! It worked. “You do realize it’s still hot as fuck when you talk dirty, even if you’re imitating me talking dirty to you? And for the record, that was my favorite view.” My brain has the courtesy to slide that image front and center. “Picturing it again right now.”
