6
CHRIS
About to hand payment across to the café owner for his steaming hot coffee, Chris stopped, distracted, when a woman placed her used, empty cup on the counter in front of his.
People didn't generally clear away their own cups. The unusual action completely distracted everyone both sides of the counter.
Chris turned and watched the lady walk out of the door. When it shut, his attention snapped back to making payment. "Another satisfied customer," Chris muttered.
Across the other side of the counter, Martin shrugged. He'd obviously watched the woman too. "We do our best to please."
Along with most of the artists who had studios in the former cinema, Chris regularly visited the café across the road. They went to the Dalby, not so much for refreshments as for a change of scenery and a break from their environment. Despite its massive size, when working there for hours on end, the former cinema could start to feel quite claustrophobic.
Not that Chris had been in the studio for hours today; he'd done the absolute minimum. He'd applied glass-glue adhesive and clamped various pieces together, while an assortment of adhesives dried in place. He needed to allow plenty of drying time. He wasn't even sure how long that process would take. He just knew four months could fly by as fast as four minutes, or so it seemed when he was absorbed in his work.
Today, he was not absorbed by work.
Although he'd taken advice from glass manufacturers, he had to do tests of his own. Completely distracted, wondering if he'd had a response to his profile, Chris decided to take a break at the earliest opportunity.
Chris had brought his tablet to the café, where he hoped to research the world of local online dating some more. Ideally, he'd have liked a seat tucked out of the way for perusing dating websites, but the café was remarkably busy. He wasn't going to get a table to himself.
With his cup of coffee in hand, paid for, there was only one obvious place to sit. It was the only table occupied by just one person, Chris recognized the man as a regular in the café. They'd never spoken, but over the years they must have both sat in the café at the same time at least once each month.
Unfortunately, it was the window seat, which was hardly discreet for online dating. Chris didn't want to browse a website that could be seen from outside when he was always only one click away from an image that was NSFW, i.e. Not Safe For the Window.
"Is it okay if I sit here or do you have someone joining you?"
The man looked up. "No. Sit down. It's okay. She's just left."
Chris sat. He realized he recognized the woman too; the one who'd just left. She was an equally familiar face in this café because she always sat with this guy. Chris thought he only saw them here at the weekends, usually.
Determined at least to check his notifications, Chris propped up his tablet and hoped he wouldn't fill his screen with a dick pic for all the outside world to see. It was a risk he was willing to take. At least with his tablet propped up, the man sitting across the table wouldn't be able to see what Chris was looking at.
Chris glanced up again and allowed himself a few moments to admire the man opposite who sat engrossed in his iPad. He had an unusual face. Not classically handsome and rugged, his features were more quirky and interesting, but in a way that meant Chris wanted to keep looking. However, it was hard to focus on his face when he also had the body beneath it. The plain white T-shirt didn't hide much of the fit, toned physique or the Celtic ink.
The man was clearly no stranger to the gym.
Or tattoos.
Chris's weakness.
These just peeked out underneath the cut-off short sleeves of his T-shirt. Celtic tattoos, and they looked familiar. Probably because the man himself was familiar.
Without further delay, he clicked on his iPad. Tap, tap, tap.
He scanned down the list of notifications. No reply from Free. He could see the usual and predictable messages, but he didn't click on any of them. Who knew what NSFW picture might suddenly appear if he did. Instead, he clicked on the profile of the man he'd admired earlier: Free.
Instantly, his eyes were drawn to the tattoos curling on the arms of the man in the picture. Chris prized his fingers apart to zoom into the man's arms. He checked out the way the black ink curved.
Exactly the same as the ink on the man sitting opposite him.
One and the same?
They must be.
The man seemed oblivious to Chris studying him.
Intently.
He had to be the same man. Chris looked down at the screen and back up at the man. Was he looking at Chris's profile at this very moment? Was he tapping out a reply to The Artist?
Chris wondered whether he should say something. Or send another message to Free, right there and then. Chris tapped out another message: I'm in a café having a cup of tea right now. Would love it if you joined me. Send.
Then he looked up and watched the man opposite tap on his screen. A small smile flickered across his lips. They were lovely, full lips. Chris could imagine his tongue running across them. The man, Free, seemed completely unaware of Chris watching him.
He had short dark hair, a broad chest, and huge, muscular arms. Chris really couldn't keep looking at those arms if he didn’t want to become Not Suitable For the Window seat.
Free appeared to be typing. Tapping away on his screen and concentrating.
Chris noticed his own screen flash. A new red notification appeared, and Chris wasn't surprised but excited to see it was from Free.
“I'd love to.”
He could be wrong. Chris wished they were on Grindr right now. Then there’d be no doubt just how far away, or close together, they were.
Chris decided to take a risk. He filled his screen with the photograph of himself and laid it down in front of him, so it was clearly visible to the man across the table, and then pushed it forward to get the man's attention. The man looked up with surprise.
"I'm The Artist. Are you Free?"