Coffee Shop Conversations

"I didn't know they made those anymore."

The voice startled me from the confines of a novel I was reading and back into reality. My feet propped on a chair, I sat at a table in a coffee shop, a latte cooling beside me with the soft undertone of guitar music filtering in through the speakers surrounding us. I smiled disarmingly at the man standing there, a disposable cup in his hand with steam rising from the top. "Made what?" I asked, for the lack of a better thing to say.

He glanced from my eyes to my shoes and back again. In the second it took for him to manufacture a response, I stole a more appraising survey of him. His short, ginger hair accentuated the pale blue of his eyes and matched with the suit he wore in a flattering sort of way. If he'd been wearing a tie, he'd stripped it off and from the look of things, a slim, sculpted body lay beneath his clothes. The corners of his eyes wrinkled like Robert Redford's when he smiled, making him look alluringly older.

"Those sneakers," he said, if the glance hadn't made it obvious. The corners of his lips remained curled, amusement written all over his face. "Converse hi-tops?"

"Yeah." Shutting my book, I placed it, cover side down, on top of the table. Somebody wearing what he was wearing probably didn't read smutty, gay romance novels and even though I lacked shame most days, on occasion I knew my quirks could be a little ridiculous, even for me. I ran my fingers through the locks of brown which were getting a little too long on the top and suddenly wondered how I looked. He was a specimen of a man and I was little more than a tall, lanky ragamuffin with my jeans and t-shirt. Not even well-worn windbreaker draped across the back of my chair could redeem me. Still, I took a deep breath and didn't let the words 'out of my league' enter my head. "They're not that hard to find, but my mother keeps a steady stockpile of trainers in my size."

"Trainers. I haven't ever heard them called that." He sipped from his cup. Black coffee. 'Dark and strong, how I like my men,' I thought idly.

I grinned, as much at the thought as the admission. "I think it's a British term. I'll admit, I'm an Anglophile. Have been that way ever since I was a teenager."

"The... trainers... are very American, though."

"Yeah, but one of the characters from my favorite TV show wore them. Ever see Doctor Who?"

"A few times. Old show, isn't it?"

My grin broadened as I grew bolder. "People tell me I'm an old soul."

He laughed and drifted toward one of the empty chairs. His free hand touched the back of it, but he didn't motion to sit. "That's usually one of those things people say when they're trying to flirt with you," he said as his fingers coiled around the cheap metal in his palm. "But I'm sure you get a lot of that."

I shrugged. "It comes with the territory, I guess. I'm cocky enough of a bastard to eat it like candy." I nodded toward the chair. "Take a seat. I'm not expecting anybody and suspect you might be the one trying to flirt with me this time."

Another chuckle and he was sliding out the chair, weaving around to sit in a smooth, practiced motion. "Guilty as charged." It took him mere moments to settle. The paper cup found its way onto the table, only inches away from my cheap paperback. "I'd ask if that was welcomed or not, but I saw the cover of that book before I said anything." He glanced at the paperback and smirked.

I laughed, my eyes lowering to the ground self-consciously before I could stop myself. I felt a blush rise on my cheeks. "Guilty pleasure."

"Lots of pleasure on that cover. I haven't been with any guy who made that face."

When our eyes met, we started laughing in unison, two peals of mirth weaving together and building to a crescendo. I thought briefly of synergy and the way it seemed one person's energy fed another's, but rather than escalating the mood, it only started darkening mine. I cleared my throat to mask it and nodded, forcing my laughter to dissipate so it didn't cut out abruptly. "No, I haven't either, but there've been a few times I wondered if I did."