Adds exactly one shake of cinnamon.
I scoop leaves into an empty mug, brew until it feels done, strain, heat the tea and milk in the microwave, add the usual amount of cinnamon and cardamom.
We take our drinks to the kitchen table. Check that the labels are taped to the bottom. It’s not really necessary—her mug is neat, mine is sprinkled with spice—but I play along anyway.
She takes the drinks. “Close your eyes.”
I do.
She sets the drinks on the table. “Okay, now, I’ll close my eyes, and you give me one of the drinks. I won’t know which it was.”
“You could just admit I’m better.”
“No way.” Her fingers brush my hand. “You ready?”
“Yeah.”
“Open your eyes.”
My gaze fixes on her immediately. Orange light falls over her blond hair, her wide eyes, her soft smile.
“Your turn.” Her eyelids flutter closed. She holds out her hand, waiting for me.
I pick up one of the cups—it’s obviously mine, but I don’t call that out—and place it in her hand.
Her fingers curl around the cup. She brings it to her lips. Takes a long, slow sip.
Her brow softens. Her chest heaves. Her lips part with a sigh.
“That’s good.” She takes another sip. Stifles a groan.
“Don’t do that.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t play it down.”
“I’m not—”
“You don’t have to play it up. But don’t play it down either.” My fingers brush hers. “Savor every fucking drop.”
Her cheeks flush. “This one is yours, isn’t it?”
“How could I know?”
“True.” She brings the mug to her lips. Takes one more sip. “It is. There’s more cardamom.”
“More than what? Ariel puts extra cardamom in her blend.”
She holds out the mug.
I take it. Replace it with the other cup. “I expect the truth.”
“Of course.”
Her fingers curl around the mug. She brings it to her lips faster this time. Takes a bigger sip. Lets out a louder sigh. “Damn, that’s good too.”
“Yeah?” I watch her chest heave with her inhale. Try to find the thread of my thoughts. Fail.
There’s something I’m doing here. Some point to this. Something besides the chance to stare at her tits.
Let’s face it. If I wanted to stare at her tits, all I’d have to do is ask.
She asked for a birthday kiss last year.
This year—
Fuck, I don’t even have to wait. I could say I owe it to her. She’d say yes. Say hell yes, let’s go now.
It could start with—
“It’s really good.” Her voice is soft. Easy. “But the other one was better.” Her eyes blink open. “Which was it?” She holds the cup over her head. Reads the name on the bottom. “Dammit.”
“I won?”
She nods yeah. “Your head is going to get even bigger.”
“If that’s possible.”
Her smile spreads a little wider. “But, if you think about it, I’m the real winner.”
“Oh?”
She nods yeah, moves into the dining room with the mug, takes a seat. “Now, I can ask you to fix my tea every morning.”
“True.”
“I get the better tea.”
I take the other mug. Join her at the table. “You do.”
“If I ask nicely, you might even teach me your secrets.”
“No secrets.”
Her eyes fix on mine. “No? There must be something. Some reason why yours came out better.”
“Just practice. It’s like everything, the more you do it, the better you get.”
“Like sex?”
“Yeah.” My eyes pass over her quickly. “Why? You gonna start practicing?”
“What would that even be?”
“I dunno. Something with bananas.”
Her blush spreads to her chest. “Is that even… accurate?”
“Dunno. You have a banana handy? I can take it upstairs. Compare.”
Her jaw drops.
Fuck, I’m so bad at controlling myself. “What do you want to do with the banana?”
“Well, uh… I’m not particularly interested in practicing moves on fruit.” Her voice is shy. Shier than it’s been all afternoon. “But I do… For some reason, everyone thinks I’m in Mexico to get laid.”
“It’s what people do.”
“I guess. But I… I mean, I’d like to do that one day. With the right person. I would like to know what I’m doing. So I don’t embarrass myself.”
“You won’t.”
Her shyness fades enough for her to shoot me a get real look.
“Okay, yeah, maybe you’ll go too hard or too soft or involve teeth some place you shouldn’t.” I shudder at a particularly painful memory. “But if you’re with someone worth your time, they aren’t going to make you feel bad about it.”
“Yeah, but—”
“They’ll show you what they want.”
“What if they don’t?”
“Ask.”
She stares at me like I’m crazy. “Ask a guy what he wants?”
“Yeah.”
“But that’s… that’s so awkward.”
“So is sex.”
“But…”
“But…?” I ask.
“You’re uh…” She motions to my crotch.
“I’m…”
“Promiscuous.”
I can’t help but laugh. She’s so fucking cute. “So? I have plenty of experience, yeah, but I’m not a mind reader. I have to pay attention to my partner if I want to figure out what she wants.”
“Pay attention how?”
I need to steer the conversation to something else. To something that won’t make me hard. At the very least, I need to grab a pillow for my lap.