Caramel Latte & Coffee Black (A Norman Reedus Love Story)

7 | Invitation Over Some Breakfast

Jae is slowly beginning to see that maybe she is worth this friendship. Only she is still very confused and very self-conscious about it. Thanks for the votes and all the reads and the comments. Much obliged!

I'm gonna move over to fight with my TWD story, Breath of Life, because man, do I pick the story lines that are just peachy, or what! I'm confused myself already and I need to sort the pieces I've written before I even want to start confusing anyone else. 

Two days later Norman called to me feeling utterly embarrassed.

     It was warm June Saturday afternoon and I was pretending to like to lie on a blanket in the sunny spot on the roof while trying to figure out what was wrong with the lyrics I had been writing for the past hour. I scribbled some notes to the side of the paper about the melody of the song, and returned to stare at the lyrics. This was going to be one pain in the butt with the band, and I already knew it. At the moment it was the pain of my existence.

     Not the easiest one, boys, sorry! I wrote at the bottom of the sheet, and drew a little smiley face next to it. I was in the middle of something really stupid, which I quickly penned over, when he called. He apologized three times in the first sentence alone, and I had to stop him from going on for the fourth time.

     “You were tired,” I said, trying to sound comforting when he groaned in protestation, “It happens.”

     “Hell yes I was, but I wanted to talk to you!” he snapped out loud, probably harder than he had intended to, making me wince in the process. There was a sudden silence, and then he said cautiously, “Uh, wait, did you just make a reference to impotence there?”

     “I - - uh, what? No?!” I slapped my hand over my mouth after I had shrieked out loud. I was extremely grateful that I had this own access to the roof, and that I was completely alone at that very moment, without any prying eyes and ears around me. When I blushed, it felt like water tumbling over the edge of the Victoria Falls.

      If I had made such a thing, I certainly didn’t mean to. I was absolutely mortified, as I sat up, and blinked few times, realizing what I had actually said, “Oh, God. I d-did, didn’t I?”

     He burst into laughter and made me blush even more. I buried my face into my palm and shook my head. Now it was my turn to feel embarrassed.

     “Let me tell you that everything works just fine,” he said, full of manly pride and sounding just a tad snappy, feeling all huffy about such an implication coming from me.

     “I’m sorry!” I blurted out and was so close to end the call right there.

     It was horrible, I was horrible! I didn’t want him to think that I was insinuating I was thinking how his junk actually performed! I didn’t want to go anywhere near that area in the conversation, I was freaked out as it was, talking to him on a phone, let alone to think what did and did not work on his physique. Or what that working could and could not do with me. My whole body shuddered almost violently when I thought of that and I was immensely glad that we were just having this conversation over the phone and not in person or via Skype.

     I heard him laugh out loud and I relaxed a bit.

     “It’s alright, Sweetheart,” he said with a voice that was laced with milk and toast and honey.

     I shuddered and out of a habit ducked my head down. I was still too shocked to say anything. I didn’t know what to say if there was anything to say. I was barely comfortable speaking how sexy and alluring my performances needed to be on stage with Jon, and here I was making impotence references at him and his working parts.