Irish Coffee

Chapter 3

It was that delicious smell that woke him from his slumber.  Cracking an eye, Ethan looked around the unfamiliar living room for a moment before remembering where he was – sleeping on Travis Murphy’s sofa.   Bacon, eggs, and the alluring scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted to his nose, eventually enticing him off the couch and into the kitchen. 

Travis stood at the stove in nothing but a pair of grey pajama bottoms, frying bacon in a skillet.  Lean muscles worked in his back and arms as he prepared their morning meal.  “Oh, you’re up finally,” he said happily.  “Have a seat and I’ll dish you up some grub.”

“Thank god, I’m starving,” he responded, taking the nearest barstool for his own.  “Smells wonderful, too.”

“Mama made sure I could cook,” he stated, pulling two plates from the cupboard.  “She was afraid I’d starve otherwise.  And now you get to reap the benefits.”  Travis piled bacon, scrambled eggs, and buttered toast on a plate and handed it over to Ethan.

“Holy cow, do you think I have a hollow leg or something?  Where am I going to put all of this?”  As if to argue with him, his stomach growled loudly.

“Your stomach seems to disagree,” he quipped, bringing his plate around the counter and sitting beside his houseguest.  “But you skinny guys are sneaky.  You can pack away the food like nobody’s business and stay thin as a rail.  Me, on the other hand, I have to work hard at keeping all this looking this good.”  He patted himself on the gut and shoveled a forkful of food into his mouth. 

“You seem to be doing a good job of – shit, I didn’t mean to…”  He made a face, forcing his mouth to stop moving without permission.

“Say that out loud,” Travis teased.  Reaching over and squeezing his guest’s knee playfully, he continued, “It’s all good.  Probably the nicest thing anyone outside of my mother has said to me all year.”

Focusing on his plate, he continued to eat, refusing to make eye contact.  He was terrified his mortification would show on his face.  “You’re welcome and really, I’m sorry.  We hardly know each other.”

“True,” he agreed.  Nibbling on a triangle of toast, he let the silence stretch a minute.  “But, seeing as you’re appreciative of all that is me, I have a question for you.”

“Should I be afraid?”  He was still staring at his breakfast, unable to look at his host. 

“Maybe, considering the huge favor I’m about to ask.”  He popped a piece of bacon into his mouth and chewed slowly.  “Like you said, we hardly know each other, so feel free to tell me to go to hell.  But Christmas is in a couple days and…”

“Christmas Eve is tomorrow you goof,” Ethan replied, feeling a little bit more at ease now that Travis had changed the subject.  Sort of. 

“Point to the detective.  But seriously, my parents are wonderful people, and well, they worry about me.  A lot.  And often.”  He paused long enough to take a draw from his coffee mug.  “I had promised them last Christmas that I would stop spending so much time here, glued to my computer, and get out and find someone.”

Ethan looked up finally, not quite meeting Travis’ questioning gaze, but his chiseled chin was close enough for now.  “Let me guess, you didn’t quite make that promise happen, did you?”

He shook his head, loose dark curls falling around his face.  “Not even close.  I’m supposed to be meeting my parents for dinner on Christmas Day and they expect me to have a date.”

“And you don’t have one?”  Ethan swallowed his embarrassment and met Travis’ gaze, surprised by the depth of the emotion he saw there.  It was apparent that disappointing his parents didn’t set well with him.