Chapter 7
Ian
“I really need some fucking coffee,” I slurred out loud to myself after downing an entire fifth of whiskey in just over half an hour
I walked over to the coffee pot, pulled the K-cup cartridge open, and reached for the container of pods just next to the machine. Only, there weren’t any.
I sighed. “Fucking forget it…” I groaned as I lazily stumbled and fell onto the couch. I pulled a thick blanket from the back and eased my head onto a pillow. I needed to lie down for a second…just one…second.
I wriggled a bit, attempting to get comfortable, but I knew it would be impossible.
I was never completely content with the size of the ultra-modern sofa my dad had purchased. It was comfortable, and it might have been big to some people, but it wasn’t nearly big enough for my liking. I smirked, I was actually really surprised Kate and I had done so well on it the night we finally made love.
My smirk turned to a wince at the memory... I hadn’t laid on it — or even sat on it — since that night, and now, as I nuzzled the pillow close, I caught a whiff of an unfamiliar, yet completely familiar scent.
I nuzzled the pillow again and sighed happily. Kate. It was her shampoo. I was sure of it. “Goddammit…” I grumbled as I drifted off. I couldn’t get that damn redhead off my mind.
The next thing I knew, I was being jolted awake as a loud noise echoed through my empty apartment. I sat up, alert, eyes scanning the darkened room. There was nothing there.
I contemplated the likelihood of being able to go back to sleep; to sleep long and hard until morning, but I knew that my attempt would have likely been in vain. It was still fairly early in the evening.
Now I really needed coffee . . . and painkillers for the massive headache from the whiskey.
I was about to go in search of the painkillers when my phone vibrated. My drunken — and incredibly heavy — body moved quickly to it. I swiped at the screen, my heart full of.
A text message. From Janice. Reminding me of everything I needed to do tomorrow.
Part of me was hoping for it to be Kate after seeing her in the lobby. I should have known better.
I groaned. I desperately needed that coffee. And since I didn’t have any, that meant Starbucks. I glanced over at the LED read out on my DVR. It was still open.
I didn’t even really remember getting ready. I just remembered walking — or rather, partially stumbling — down the street, without a coat or anything. By the time Starbucks finally came into view, the cold had brought me out of my fog a little.
Part of me wanted to see her standing on the curb just in front of it, waiting for me. I wanted things to be right in the universe and I wanted to not have been such a dumb shit by letting her go. But that part of me was an idiot and the rest of me knew that was never going to happen.
I made my way to the front door through the crowd of coffee-drinkers standing around outside and grabbed hold of the handle. I sighed, pleasantly, and a smile finally started to form on my face. That oh-so-familiar aroma of coffee hit me as soon as I pulled the door open and took a step into the warmth of the building. That wonderful, roasted smell of the coffee bean was almost nostalgic; and sure as hell something I’d grown accustomed to. The aroma alone was almost enough to sober me up a bit. I’d made the right call. Coffee was exactly what I needed.
I was starting to somewhat gain at least a semblance of a level head. At least, enough so that I could finally start to think more clearly. And now that I was, I honestly couldn't believe I’d actually gotten to Starbucks completely unscathed.
I took another deep breath, savoring the smell once again. It was almost like that smell was what I’d wanted all along; like that was what it was that I craved. And if I were being honest, that wouldn't have been a stretch. I missed the smell. It intoxicated me.
Just like the scent of her shampoo on my pillow, the smell of roasted coffee beans reminded me of her. I took my place in line and focused on the person straight ahead of me until it was my turn to order.
“What’ll it be, sir?” the young kid behind the counter squeaked in what seemed like a hardly pubescent voice.
“I’ll have a Venti Caramelized Honey Latte with 1% milk, extra hot, extra foam, two pumps of caramel, one pump vanilla, extra whip, cinnamon and extra honey on top.” Honestly as soon as it left my mouth I remembered how much of an asshole order that was, and was pretty surprised that I was even able to communicate that much information in my whiskey induced state.
“You got that?” I asked the boy still writing on my cup with a black sharpie at lightning speed.
“Yes, Sir,” he smirked, a little more confidently than I’d expected. He was so young looking; it looked like he’d shit himself if someone asked for anything more complicated than was on the menu. But he’d written quite the list — only problem, it was in Starbucks language.
“Read it back?” I smirked, challenging him.
He did. Precisely as I’d delivered it.
I smiled. “Nice!” I replied, finally able to smile at something for the first time that night. I held my hand up for the young man to give me a high-five, and I didn’t care what kind of idiot it made me look like. I was impressed.
He smiled wide, as if no one had ever complimented him on anything, his cockiness faded, and followed through on the high-five before he asked for a name.
“Ian,” I said before I slid my card and walked over to wait on my drink. While I was waiting, I did something instantly wished I hadn’t.
I looked to the back of the coffee shop, hoping to find a free seat. I didn’t need to venture back out yet. I needed to sit my ass down and drink a couple of Venti coffees before I headed back home.
But when I scanned the back corner, I immediately felt my heart stop.
She was there.
At our place.
With her date. The date she’d told me about earlier that night.