She planted her hand by his shoulder and pushed herself up. She stared down at his amused face, horrified. “Oh my God, you did see that. No wonder you didn’t give me your phone number.”
Felix, distracted by the way her hair fell along her blushing cheeks, didn’t quite follow her. “What?”
“That night!” she cried, gesticulating with her free hand. “That first night alone in the library. I was all horny for your arms, and then I told you to give me your number while there’s this ‘hot librarian’ text from my best friend on my phone. I was so worried I’d creeped you out.”
He grinned, a slow, sly grin. “You were horny for my arms?”
“You had to notice me notice them.”
“Well, they’re extremely noticeable.” He raised his arm, tucked his hand under his head, and flexed. Jo’s eyes darted over. “See?”
“They’re extremely attractive is what they are.”
“That too.” He dropped the playful tone. “Jo, the reason I didn’t give you my number that night is because I thought email would be more respectful of your time. You were already offering to go above and beyond the one hour a week we agreed to. I didn’t want to text you a question at lunch or late at night and have you think I expected an answer right away. Email was meant to let you respond whenever was convenient for you.”
“Well, shit.”
“What?”
“That’s even more attractive than your arms.” And she kissed Felix with such ferocity it took his breath away.
“This place is seriously called Grinders?” Kim asked on Monday morning as everyone entered the breakfast spot Aida had found. “What the actual fuck?”
“It started out as a coffee shop,” Aida explained.
“I think it’s cute,” Heather declared in that way of hers that indicated it would be pointless to disagree.
“A grinder is also a sandwich, right?” Young asked from behind their sunglasses. “Isn’t that what they call subs in the Midwest?” They looked to Felix.
“Uh, no,” he said. “I mean, yes, a grinder is a sub, but that’s not a Midwest thing.”
“Where do they call them grinders, then?” Young asked.
“New England,” Max said. He waved his phone. “Just looked it up.”
“So I can’t get a sub here?” Young asked.
“Literally none of us have been here before, Young,” Trey said. “How would we know that?”
Young shrugged. “Online menu?”
“On it,” Max said.
“My dude, they are about to hand us menus,” Kim said, flailing both arms toward the host stand where Aida was checking them in.
“Now I want a sub,” David said.
“It’s not even nine a.m.,” Heather retorted, scandalized by the thought.
“I’m going to miss you chucklefucks,” Jo said with melodramatic longing.
“Aw, Jo,” Kim cried. She folded Jo into an almost-painful hug from the side, pinning Jo’s arms down and squishing their cheeks together. “I’m going to miss you too. When are you coming to California to visit?”
“I don’t know, probably Christmas?” Her voice was muffled on account of her cheek being pressed against her teeth.
“Not til Christmas?!”
“No subs,” Max reported. “But they have a Reuben and a French dip. And burgers.”
David lit up. “Ooh, that means fries.”
“Again. Not even nine,” Heather said.
“What’s the difference between fries and hash browns, though?” David argued. “Same concept.”
Aida spun on her heel, grabbing their attention. “Come on, kids, breakfast time.”
Kim finally released Jo and scampered after the host. Felix came alongside Jo and slipped his hand in hers. She mouthed “sorry” to him.
“Don’t give me that, cariño,” Felix whispered. The new nickname made her smile. “Your friends are great.”
“Let’s see if you still think so after they’re caffeinated, hot librarian,” she said.
Breakfast was about as chaotic as Jo expected. Felix mostly observed the overlapping conversations, chiming in occasionally between bites of chicken and waffles (and the fries David ordered for the table). But Jo noticed him smiling the entire time.
Their goodbyes in the parking lot were even more chaotic, with handshakes and tears and at least six hugs between Jo and Aida. All too soon, Jo climbed into her car beside Felix and set her GPS for his address. Waving through the windows, they set off for Kansas. For home.
