Less Than Nothing

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I'd say one of the biggest perks of living in the city is how accessible everything is. Especially food. On every corner there's some kind of cafe or restaurant. This one in particular is a small breakfast spot. There's no particular theme, but the place is very cute.

"Have you been here before?" I ask Ryan as we walk through the doors.

"Yeah, a couple times. The coffee is not bad."

Thankfully there's no line at the register. Ryan orders a large, black coffee for himself.

"What are you getting?" He turns around and asks me. I request a toasted plain bagel with cream cheese, and an orange juice. My mouth waters at the heavenly smell of food in the cafe. Nevermind the fact that Adrienne's company is on the line. Anything for a fresh New York bagel, am I right?

"Go find a seat, I'll wait for the food," he says after ordering.

"Okay."

I quickly take out my wallet, and hand him my debit card. Instead of taking it, he glances at it, then looks back up at me.

"For my food." I insist, nudging the card towards him. He still doesn't take it, he just raises an eyebrow in confusion.

"I got you, don't worry about it. Find a table."

I swallow my pride, and follow his orders because frankly I'm too hungry to care about anything other than food right now. There's a free table by the door, and I am quick to claim it as ours. In my hands are my two work phones. I'm silently praying that Adrienne doesn't call, because I'm not sure how I'd explain to her that I've stopped for a quick bagel detour with her nephew.

Speaking of...

"One toasted bagel..."  Ryan joins me at the table, and places my food down. "And one freshly squeezed orange juice."

"Thank you." I immediately grab the plate, and waste no time. My teeth sink into the perfectly toasted bagel, and a sweet groan falls from my lips.

"Shit..." I say between bites. "That's good."

As I finish half of the bagel, it dawns on me that I'm eating like a slob. Ever since I was a child, I've had the nasty habit of stuffing my face. My mother always hated that about me. Despite her many efforts, I never grew out of the bad habit. And I usually don't care.

But something tells me that at this moment I probably should.

Looking up from my plate, I find Ryan already staring at me. He wears a sly grin.

"You got a little somethin..." He points to my cheek. I grab a napkin, and wipe my face. He laughs.

"Did I get it?"

"Nope."

I continue to roam my cheek with a napkin, desperate to find whatever's on my face.

"Here," Ryan pulls my wrist down, leans in and ever so slightly slides his thumb against the corner of my face.

"Got it." I feel his words fan against my face, and my skin breaks out with goosebumps. There's a moment of stillness. Neither of us moves.

"Not the biggest fan of cream cheese," He grins, gently sucking the piece he smeared off my face from his thumb, "but it doesn't taste too bad from your face."

Oh.

Oh.

If I wasn't chewing, my jaw would surely be on the ground. The goosebumps on my body spread further, and for a second I wonder what else I might like him to taste off of my skin.