Blueberry Milkshake

Sunset

"One blueberry milkshake, please," I order as I sit down on my usual stool.

I peek at him with a shy smile and he looks up from the newspaper he was reading, some iced drink in his hand.

"Good morning." His smile is dashing and his voice is a sweet melody I ought to listen to all the time. Why am I so cheesy?

I mumble a short, "Hey."

A blueberry milkshake is set on the counter. I thank Gema, the waitress that always served us, a pretty brunette with a smile as lovely as herself.

I take a sip of my drink, and maybe I look at him not so subtly. What? The guy is hot!

His deep blue eyes stare at me softly.

"Do I have something on my face?" he asks, holding my gaze.

Blood rushes to my cheeks and my voice gets caught in my throat. I was embarrassed; I knew I shouldn't look at him like he is a dream, but he is.

"A few things," I try to cover up, "Eyes, a nose, lips..." that I want to kiss so badly. "You name it."

He smirks at my stupid excuse.

"Were you looking at my nose?"

"Maybe." I shrug and try to change the subject. "What are you drinking?"

I look away and take a sip of my drink. He had completely discarded the paper, and his body was now facing me. I am not sure if he is into one of our serious talks or just comment on the weather, but I never know anyway. I don't think he does either.

"It's one of their many originals," he says and points at the long menu placard against the wall in front of us. He is trying all of them before deciding his favourite. "It's the Delaware Frozen Coffee."

Yeah, they give weird names to everything on the menu. Almost everything.

"Is that any good?" I ask. "In your scale of drinks."

He pushes the paper cup to me, and I take a sip. As expected, bitter.

"It's better than the Minsk Explosion but still much behind the Vanilla Venom."

"I still can't believe you willingly drank something named Venom."

He chuckles. "Yeah, Gema says I was the first to order it. I'm still alive."

It could be one of those poisons that take a long time to take action. I mean, it's been a month, but you never know.

"Are you sure you have felt no strange effects?" I ask, "Like having a sluggish black creature living inside you?"

The grin plays on his lips as he takes his drink back and finishes it in one gulp, his throat completely exposed.

I'm even turned on by his neck. I'm so fucking ridiculous! Please assume I have dignity.

Once again, the bell rings to announce someone walking in. My head darts to the side to look at that someone. It is a guy, a very handsome guy in sunglasses and a leather jacket. I bet the motorcycle parked outside is his.

Next to me, my date follows my gaze and looks at him.

"He's cute," he admits, and I think my heart stopped.

Does he mean cute for me to go hit on or cute for him to go hit on? I don't like either option.

"You think he is cute? Do you like men?" I stammer.

Please don't be gay! Please don't be gay! We have so much potential!

"Men, woman..." he trails whilst he turns back to the counter without another look at that guy.