Call me kitten (boyxboy love) ✓

2. How to wear a cap

It was completely impossible to sleep that night. I tossed and turned in my bed and couldn't for the life of me find a comfortable sleeping position and thoughts ran amok in my head. I wasn't interested in guys; I never had been. My type had always been girls, preferably of the somewhat moody but intelligent kind and if she was interested in gaming it was a plus. And if she was introverted like me, it was even better, but that had just med it even harder to meet anyone. Catch twenty-two, if both of us were introverted we would never meet anyway. So, I had just shelved that wish. It took too much energy to act social and maybe meet someone that I just would grow tired of. Or more likely; they would grow tired of me.

It wasn't that I never was attracted to anyone, I knew that feeling all too well. And it was just like that now. Only not at all. But still. It was all messed up; Ash was a guy and I wasn't interested in guys. Nothing wrong with it, but I was straight. I was sure of it. So why the hell did I feel so weird just by thinking about him? The last time I was attracted to someone it had been a female intern that worked at the firm for two weeks. She came from the design program at the university, and I sat with butterflies in my belly every time I saw her in the cafeteria. I never had the guts to go up and talk to her and when those two weeks were up, she was gone and I had never seen her again. That was two years ago. This wasn't the same at all. Hence, no attraction.

But what was it? Maybe I was just jealous of him that he had the guts to be himself? Because I was jealous. He just looked so confident; hell, he could even make an apron look sexy. Damn, that was it. He looked sexy. I couldn't deny that. But anyone could see that, it was a pure objective observation. Objectively he was sexy as hell.

The next morning, I pulled down my black baseball cap from the coat rack and put it on, covering my eyes. Whatever the deal was with Ash I didn't want to be recognized by him anymore, I didn't want him to come up and talk to me. The risk of me making an ass of myself by blurting out that I was sorry again was far too great and I didn't want to repeat that mistake. If I just tilted my head forward a bit my eyes were shaded by my cap. An easy disguise that made it possible for me to look out for him without it showing. I had to go to the cafeteria for breakfast, I didn't have a speck of food at home for the simple reason that I never ate at home. For half a second, I considered wearing a short-sleeved t-shirt and not bother to cover my tattoos, but I changed my mind just as fast. People would notice and ask me questions. Chris would never stop pestering me, just for the fact that I had never shown my tattoos before. It would become a total pain.

I stopped outside the glass doors leading into the cafeteria, my pulse quickening. This was just stupid; Ash was just a guy working there and nothing else. Still my palms were sticky with sweat when I went through the doors and up to the table with the sandwiches, my cap pulled far down on my forehead. I probably looked like a dork, but I couldn't make myself look up. Quickly I picked up three sandwiches and a bottle of coke. No coffee today. I didn't want to leave dishes in my cubicle again. When I was on my way out, I glanced once behind me, but no Ash. That made me feel calmer, but at the same time an odd feeling of disappointment landed straight in my chest. I pushed it away.

"Looking like a gangster today, I see," Chris said when he swung by my place at lunch time.

"What? What do you mean?" I looked up from the screen.

"You never wear caps. You look different."

I had totally forgotten about my cap and pushed it up so I could see better. It had been hell to even try to concentrate on work this morning, my mind was in a million pieces making it impossible to get anything done and it was only now that I had started to get my shit together. And Chris ruined it all.

"Just felt like it, I guess," I replied and returned to my work.

"You better remove it in the cafeteria, looks kinda childish with a cap when you're eating, I mean."

Fuck. Lunch. Of course, I had forgotten all about it and now Chris wanted me to go, as usual. And at the thought of that, my heart jumped. Ash would be there now, guaranteed. Walking around with his stupid confidence and his cart, cleaning tables. For sure he would stop at our table. No chance in hell that I was going down there today. Chris could come at me with everything he got, I would stay right here. Starvation was ok for me now; I could order in when I got home. But I refused to go to the cafeteria.

"Don't have time today, Chris," I said.

Half of a lie. I didn't want to lose that tiny bit of actual concentration I still had. Chris looked disappointed and made a face like a sad bulldog.

"You gonna make me sit with the others?" he whined.

"Afraid so," I replied and didn't take my eyes off the screen.

"Well, suit yourself. They're serving meatballs today," he muttered and left me in my cubicle.

I drew a sigh of relief and went back to work. One day without seeing Ash was just what I needed.

The clock was almost six at night when my phone rang. I had lost track of time and had been engulfed in a cloud of work and the phone rudely woke me up.

"Jay, have a beer with me after work," my sister said.

"Well, hello to you too, Zoey," I greeted her.

"Come on, you can sacrifice one night of work to hang out with your sister. It's home-o'clock anyways, right? We haven't seen each other in ages."

My sister always tended to exaggerate, but I was used to it. We had always had a great relationship and she was the closest thing I had in the form of a friend. The only one I could stand for an extended period. We could talk to each other and even if she could get on my nerves sometimes, I was truly happy to have her. Somehow, she got me, even if she said she didn't. In any case she accepted me for me.

"We saw each other two weeks ago. But ok, give me half an hour and meet me at the usual place."

Breaking the pattern was a good thing, especially now when I was feeling weird. Get my mind off Ash for a while and listen to my sister and her boyfriend trouble instead. And for once, not working over-time. And like this I would not be present when Ash was making his cleaning round, an added bonus.

In the lobby I realized that I hadn't looked myself in the mirror all day. My looks weren't anything I could do anything about, but at least I could make sure I passed as human before I went to the bar. I made a beeline to the large bathroom in the lobby and took a long hard look at myself in the mirror. Locks of blond hair peeked out from under the cap, and I let them be. The cap didn't look that bad on me, so I left it on. It was like a barrier against the rest of the world somehow. My sister would give me grief about it, but I didn't care.

The door to the bathroom flung open and Ash entered. I stared at him through the mirror, my breathing becoming shallow suddenly. He approached the sink and watched his reflection in the mirror, pulled a hand through his tousled hair and smiled at me.

Thump-thump. Fuck.

"Thought I'd see you at your cubicle," he said calmly and made his hair even more spiky with his hands. "You're leaving early?"

Why did he care?

"Meeting someone tonight," I said in a clipped voice and tried to look busy correcting my hoodie.

Ash put his thumbs in the belt of his black jeans and turned to me, sapphire eyes locked on me.

"You should turn the cap, have it on backwards. That way your eyes show."

I just stood there silently, looking at him. What did he mean by that? Did he mean anything at all?

Get out of here now. Right. Now.

I turned on the spot and made it out of the bathroom in three long strides, not looking back or breaking my steps for anything. I just continued when I got out in the street, almost running all the way to the bar. That way your eyes show. What did he mean? Was he teasing me or something? Or did he really want to see my eyes? I cursed as I rushed through the crowded streets. He had looked good, even without the apron. Too good for my own wellbeing. Nerve-rackingly good, even. Did he just want to show that off? Ok, now I was being stupid for real, he wasn't showing off at all. He had just taken off his fucking apron, which was natural if he was going home for the evening. I read too much crap into every single thing that man did. It was time to cut that out for real. Enough of it.