Page 9 of His Dark Vices

"Crepes all day!" I affirm enthusiastically. "I've been eating them since I was a kid. On the weekends when my mom wasn't too busy, she used to make us a special breakfast of crepes. Dad would fry up some bacon, too. When I eat crepes, I always think of those warm mornings in the kitchen."

The memory is like a bear hug, so I can't help the big smile on my face.

Sam looks down at the countertop, seemingly lost in thought.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry." He forces a smile.

I frown and press him. "There's clearly something up. Did I say something wrong?"

"No, no. That's a nice memory, that's all. My parents didn't cook." He shrugs and smiles apologetically. "I didn't mean to bring down the mood."

His parents didn't cook? Ever? I'm still frowning as I try to wrap my head around what that means when the waitress shows up with a steaming pot of coffee.

"Got some joe for ya," she announces and fills up two mugs for us. "I brought some creamer and sugar, too."

"Thank you," Sam says with a smile, the distant expression gone from his face.

I manage a nod of thanks as well, not knowing how to move forward with the awkward mood. I don't want to make Sam dwell on the past, especially since we've practically just met. But I feel like he's revealed a lot by saying so little.

"Moment of truth," Sam says, taking a sip of the black coffee.

I make a face and reach for the sugar and creamer, pouring plenty in my cup.

"That's no way to have coffee," I joke as I stir. Whatever went on in his past, it's not my business, so I let him change the subject. "But as long as you're happy with it, that's fine with me. I'm just glad to make us even for yesterday."

"Why would this make us even?" he asks casually, adding just a bit of sugar without looking at me.

"I'm treating you to coffee for yesterday. You agreed earlier, right?"

"No?" He looks at me, confused. "You asked if you could buy me a coffee."

"To make up for yesterday," I repeat.

Sam laughs and takes a big sip, shaking his head a little. "No way a coffee can make up for a meal. I mean, if you want to call this even, I'm fine with it. Just surprises me, that's all."

"If you want to order something else, go right ahead!" I offer, but I'm starting to feel bad. I'm not trying to shortchange the guy.

But that's exactly what I'm doing. Shit.

"Actually, you're right, this isn't?—"

"Don't worry about it," Sam cuts me off, pouring more coffee into his mouth. "It wasn't a big deal to me in the first place. We can call this even."

"No, come on, I feel bad now. I actually figured you'd get more food, really. You can order something else."

"Nah, I can't. If I don't get back home soon to shower, I'll be late for work."

I nod and look down at the counter, trying not to imagine him soaping up. "You're a pretty busy guy," I note offhandedly. "Important job?"

"Something like that," he says dismissively and slips off his stool. "Thanks for the coffee. It was alright."

I wince and nod again, feeling worse than before. Not only did I fail to make up for yesterday, but I treated him to shitty coffee, as well.

Cool.

Just as I'm thinking about finding another park to jog in, Sam leans in close to my face, peering at me.

---