TARA

"Good morning, Tara." Tommy's voice startles me, almost makes me drop the coffee cup I'm holding. I've been trying to make myself a coffee on the fancy espresso machine for at least half an hour, but I can't get it to work right.

"Umm, morning," I mutter, trying to hide my shock with a smile. Which I'm not even sure he deserves with the way he just walked away from me the other night.

"Make me a cup while you're at it?" he says, sitting down on one of the stools and folding his huge, perfect arms one on top of the other on the bar.

"Actually," I say, dangling the cup at him from my finger. "Can you show me how?"

"Oh, sure," he says, getting off the stool and coming around the bar. He spoke like it's the most natural thing, and he just wants to be helpful, but there's a slight grin on his lips. And that's the only thing that betrays he even remembers me rejecting his advances two nights ago.

He stands very close to me as he starts making the coffee, explaining what he's doing. He's not towering over me like he did in the parking lot, and there's nothing overtly sexual in his stance, but I still can't concentrate on what he's saying. Because covertly, there's just something about him that calls to me, makes me wish he’d stand closer. And we're already so close we're almost touching.

By the time the coffees are ready, I still have no idea how to make one myself. Now we're just standing next to the machine, side by side, each holding a cup of steaming coffee, and not looking at each other, but not moving apart either. It might have been awkward, if it didn't feel so pleasant. He glances at the back door I left open to air the place out.

"Looks like the rain stopped," he says. "Good."

"Did it rain last night?" I ask. "It didn't when I went to bed, and I just got up." He's listening to me like I'm telling the most interesting story, and we're not just having a stupid conversation about the weather. "And it's sunny now," I conclude, finishing my monologue in the dumbest way possible.

"Yeah, it is." There's no trace of mocking in his tone. I'm so glad for that.

"Here," he says, digging in his pocket and producing my car key. "I meant to give you this yesterday, but things came up, and you were already in bed when I came back."

"Thanks," I say, pocketing the key.

"Wanna take me to breakfast?" he asks, smiling at me. "As friends, I mean."

The stone that's been resting in my chest since he walked away from me in the parking lot drops into the pit of my stomach. But he's not joking, and I don't think he's just teasing me. I think he's being serious. I want to believe he's serious. That he really wants to be my friend. That he's OK with it.

"Sure," I mutter. "But Crystal—"

"We can agree that Crystal's cooking leaves a lot to be desired. No need to pretend otherwise, she's not here."

I chuckle at that. It's true what he said about her cooking, I've never tasted more tasteless scrambled eggs in my life.

"I meant she might want me to help her finish clearing out the garage," I say.

Tommy smiles. "She has you clearing out her garage? Good."

"Why?" I ask wryly. "Did she ask you to do it a bunch of times, but got tired of waiting?"

His eyes finally fix all the way on mine for the first time this morning. They're clear like a moonlit night sky after a hard rain, and I'm suddenly very aware of just how close we're still standing.

He looks away first, shifts, drinks his espresso in one long gulp.

"Something like that. I even suggested she just burn it all, since it's all ancient history anyway." He places his cup on the counter and turns to me. "Although there might still be some of my old stuff in there. Did you find any of that?"

I try to think, but I didn't really get a good look at the stuff Crystal was sifting through. I mainly just helped her get it off the shelves, and out of the corners.

"You should ask her," I offer.

He shakes his head. "No point. It's all really old stuff, from back when I lived with her and Bear for awhile. How about that breakfast? I'm in the mood for pancakes."

"OK, sure, let's go," I say, placing my untouched cup of coffee on the counter and reaching into my pocket for the car key. "You can drive, if you want. And you'll have to pick a place too, I don't know anything around here."

He glances at the key then grins at me. "I thought we could take my bike."

I literally feel my eyes bulge. And I can't deny a part of me wants to get on the back of his bike with him, wrap my arms around his waist to hang on, but…

He takes the key from my hand, his fingers brushing my palm, but in a friendly, off-hand way like it was just by accident. "Another time then."

And I almost say thank you, that's how messed up my mind is right now.

* * *

He makes no more allusions that he wants to be more than friends all through breakfast. Our conversation's just easy, light, right in all the ways my conversations never are.

We don't even talk about anything serious, just random stuff like music, movies and the weather, even books. After we finish the pancakes, we get some more coffee, and then some ice cream on top of that, since I didn't get any with my pancakes, but then spent the whole time I was eating them wishing I had, until he finally convinced me to just order it. We've been here for almost three hours, all the other tables in the place have changed customers at least twice in that time, but I don't think he wants to leave any more than I do.

For the first time in a long time, I'm sitting in a restaurant with a guy and thinking of nothing but the conversation we're having. Not dreading the end of the date, just enjoying time with a friend who knows nothing about my past, and doesn't need to.

His phone's rang a few times already, but he didn't answer it. It's vibrating again now.

"Maybe you should just get that," I say, smiling at him.

"Yeah, I will," he says, and his tone suggests he'd rather do just about anything else. "Speaking of music, do you know the Midnight Kiss?"

"Do I? Of course. I love them," I exclaim. "Their lyrics are so deep and multilayered."

This serene half-smile if playing on his lips as he listens to my excited chatter. It makes me blush, I'm sure of it, because my cheeks are suddenly very hot.

"Well, they're playing at my friend's bar tomorrow night," he says. "Wanna go?"

My mind's exploding with all the ways I could say no, get out of this, all the reasons I should say no, but that's not the Tara I am with Tommy. I don't want to say no.

"Yes, that'd be great. I haven't been to a concert in ages." This will actually only be the third concert I've ever been too, but he doesn't need to know that. And I've wanted to see Midnight Kiss play live for ages.

He smiles and his whole face brightens up. "Great, it starts at ten, I think. I'll let you know."

We stay for another half an hour or so, before he says he should go. And there's nothing awkward in our parting, nothing to make me wish I hadn't said yes to the concert. So I can just look forward to tomorrow night without worrying about anything else.