Enemies with Benefits 2

Chapter 12: coffee date

The phone rang, once then twice then over and over again until it went to voicemail.

Please leave your message after the beep.

"Hi, Ezra. It's dad, your dad... you probably already know that. Because you don't have any other dad, just me unfortunately." He awkwardly laughed into the phone. "Um, anyway I just thought I'd call and check if you were alright after what happened yesterday. I hope you're not too upset with me. Maybe you would like to meet up, just you and me. We could get a coffee together. Or we could go to a restaurant. Whatever you want... um... please call me back— if you have time. I'm sure you're very busy so-"

Steven's time for the voicemail ended. He sighed and fell back against the brick wall. He wanted to curse something, shift the blame onto anything other than himself.

Why couldn't he understand his own son? He went over the conversation they had in their therapy station, replaying it in his head, trying to find the damning evidence that Ezra heard that caused him to leave in such a hurry. It had to be something Steven said, but what? He'd done exactly what was asked of him, to speak honestly about why he did what he did. So, why wasn't that working? They didn't have another session for a few more days, thus it wasn't required that Ezra saw him in those days.

He considered calling Ezra again. Maybe he was asleep? It was early in the morning. Half past nine to be exact. Optimistically speaking it could be that. On the other hand, perhaps more realistically, his son might not want to talk to him.

He didn't know what to do. For now, he wasn't sure there was anything he could.

He pushed himself off the wall and left the secluded alley in which he'd attempted to phone his son. He rounded the corner and entered the coffee shop. A small bell dinged as the door swung open. He walked straight up the stairs to the upper floor and sat on the table to the immediate left.

"Sorry about that."

Stavros shook his head. "No problem at all." He was dressed much more casually than he usually was. In a tight athletic black t-shirt and cargo jeans, Steven would be lying to say that Stavros didn't look rather attractive. In particular, Steven kept finding his eyes drawn to the muscular formation of Stavros' arms. The way they flexed as he adjusted his chair or even picked up his coffee. His multiple tattoos shifting as he did.

His ogling wasn't very subtle.

"Do you like what you see?" Stavros over dramatically flexed his arms, replicating the poses of Usain Bolt and other athletes.

"I wasn't-" he began, but Stavros raised an eyebrow at him that spoke that he was already well aware of Steven's less than pure gaze. "Do you go to the gym often?"

"Yes, I do. We could go together at some point if you'd like? If you like going to the gym?"

"I enjoy working out, but I prefer doing it in the privacy of my own home."

Stavros placed exactly two brown sugars into the black coffee he was drinking. "Why?"

"It's embarrassing."

"Working out is embarrassing?"

"It is when you're a sweaty old man."

"You're not old." Stavros insisted.

"I am." Steven lifted his coffee to his lips, he enjoyed the warmth that radiated from the cup. A simple joy in the world. As he was about to take a sip, he asked Stavros a question that he hadn't asked before. "How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Thirty-seven."

Steven chocked on his coffee. The warm liquid scolding his throat as he coughed on it. He placed down the cup and bent over. Stavros leaned over the table and slapped his back.