Page 15 of The Girlfriend's Guide to Dating a Biker
Then he just . . . left. Walked away while I stood there, coffee in hand, brain glitching, trying to process what that meant.
Current status: Staring at my coffee cup like it holds the secrets of the universe while my phone explodes because I JUST MADE THE BIGGEST MISTAKE OF MY LIFE.
See, I meant to text Megan. MEGAN. But apparently, the universe hates me and “Karen from Accounting” and “Megan Best Friend” are too close together in my sleep-deprived, hangover-addled contact list, because this just happened:
Me
EMERGENCY. HOT BIKER JUST SHOWED UP AT MY DOOR WITH COFFEE FROM MY FAVOURITE CAFÉ. THE ONE 20 MINS AWAY. HE KNOWS MY COFFEE ORDER. I REPEAT: HE KNOWS MY COFFEE ORDER. AND HE SAID SOMETHING ABOUT KEEPING SCORE AND I THINK I’M DYING.
Karen
New data point for the spreadsheet!
Me
Wait. No. NO. WRONG PERSON. ABORT. DELETE. IGNORE.
Karen
Too late. Already created a new tab called “Evidence” with timestamped entries for “Valley Incident” and “Strategic Coffee Delivery.”
UPDATE (10:51 a.m.): Karen’s spreadsheet now has a whole column dedicated to “Rescue Metrics” with subcategories for “Timing,” “Intensity,” and “Swoon Factor.”
UPDATE (11:03 a.m.): The entire team has started a betting pool. DURING THE WEEKEND. These are the same people who won’t answer Slack messages about actual work after 5 p.m. during the week, but somehow, they’ve managed to create a complex wagering system about my love life before noon on a Saturday.
UPDATE (11:42 a.m.): I just heard his bike start up and definitely didn’t run to the window. Unrelated: black T-shirts should also be banned.
P.S. To the café barista who explained my coffee order to him: I don’t know whether to send you a thank you card or hide in shame next time I come in. Maybe both? Is there a Hallmark category for “thanks for enabling my hot biker situation”?
P.P.S. Is it possible to die from sexual tension and caffeine at the same time? Asking for science. Also asking for my heart, which seems confused about whether to race from the coffee or from the way he says “darlin’.”
P.P.P.S. Karen just added a “Coffee Analysis” tab to track hot beverage deliveries. I’m updating my CV because I clearly need new co-workers. Though according to her data modelling, there’s an 86% chance of future “rescue” incidents involving hot beverages and dangerous smirks.
Comments: Still Disabled
Share: Only if you want “Death By Spreadsheet” on my tombstone, with a subheading of “But At Least She Got Coffee”
HOW TO HAVE A REAL CONVERSATION WITH A HOT BIKER (STEP 1: DON’T LET THE TATTOOS DISTRACT YOU)
Posted by Anonymous at 10:21 p.m.
March 25
Look, in my defence, no one expects to walk into the fire escape (because I’m still avoiding the lift after The Incident) and find Savage sitting on the stairs, staring at his phone like he’s pissed off with it.
I might have successfully made it past him if I hadn’t stumbled on the steps. (Note to self: coordination and attraction don’t mix.)
His hand shot out to steady me before I could face-plant, which is how I ended up sitting next to him on the stairs at 9 p.m. on a Tuesday, trying not to have a complete meltdown over the fact that he was:
a) Still holding my arm
b) Looking less savage and more . . . worried?
c) Somehow making concern look sexy
d) Radiating the kind of tension that made me want to fix whatever was wrong
Him: “You good, darlin’?”
