Not Another Player

10.Challenge Accepted

Borderline // Madonna

The elevator doors open. I step into the lobby, sleek and modern with shiny surfaces everywhere. I see my reflection bouncing back at me, so I pause to take in my appearance. The dark blue athletic shorts and a Saint Germaine team shirt I threw on look good. My hair is a wreck, sticking up in all directions but I couldn't be bothered to grab a comb. Not a movie star look for sure, although Harry Styles can pull off the just-rolled-out-of-bed look like a pro. It's the tension headache pounding behind my eyes that keeps me from smiling. And it can't be from the beer. I only had two. It's got to be from the girl.

The woman.

Of my dreams or of my nightmares, I haven't decided. But damn she knocked me down a peg or two last night. I thought I'd been pretty smooth with her. And not my usual player bullshit. Even I can admit I've been a dick in the past. But with Char, it's all different. My actions mean something. I'm not just messing around to see what trouble I can get into. I'm feeling things for her. I want her eyes on me. Her hands and her mouth would be pretty awesome, too.

Char is a tough nut to crack, I swear. But I think that's what I like best about her.

With a groan I run a hand through my hair and head directly for the coffee shop, right up to the to-go counter.

"Morning, Sir. What can I get you?"

"Two black coffees. Throw plenty of cream and sugar in a bag, too." I haven't had cream or sugar in my coffee for months, thanks to Zack's regimen. I guess I've gotten used to going without it, but I don't know how Char takes her coffee. I figured I'd grab her a cup as a peace offering. The worst she could do is say no.

Or slam the door in my face, which is what I'm expecting.

Or slam the coffee in my face. But that would be downright mean, and I don't believe Char is a mean person. Just an angry one. Really angry.

Angry about what, is the question. And I'm probably not the right person to ask her, but whatever. I volunteer as tribute.

I step away from the counter as the kid behind it takes my cash and hustles off to get my order filled. I'm scrolling my phone when another customer approaches the counter. When he opens his mouth to order, I groan again.

"Two oat milk chai lattes, please."

Zack and his granola order seems like a boring morning.

"Goat milk?" I laugh from my spot slightly behind him. I know he ordered oat milk, but I can never resist messing with him. Zack turns to find my amusement, but he's not really amused.

"No you doof, oat milk."

"What the hell is oat milk? You can't milk an oat." I know what oat milk is. But the irritation in Zack's eyes more than makes up for my crappy night.

Zack rolls his eyes. "Plant based milk is a thing. Have you learned nothing from the months of training you've gone through?"

Yeah, I've learned. He's granola as fuck and a boring time all around, but I love the guy like a brother, so I shut my mouth and give him a thumbs up.

My order is ready. I reach out and grab the two coffees along with the bag of contraband, thankful that its hidden from view. I don't need a lecture about the evils of sugar.

"What a nice roommate. Taking Randy a cup, too? I sense a bromance emerging."

"Nah. Randy can suck it. This is for Char."

Zacks eyes blow up, wide with shock. "Oh, reeeeeeeeally." He leans in close. "Like I've said, be careful with that one. She's got claws. And really sharp teeth."