Page 4 of Teach Me

“Ahhhh, you’re a real-life hero,” John praised, putting his hands up in prayer pose.

“Shhh, I’m incognito,” Cameron answered cheekily, pulling a pen from his apron pocket and then flipping open his notepad. “Ready to order, or you need a few more minutes?”

“We’re ready.” John answered for both of us, glanced at his menu, then pushed it aside and ordered eggs with a side of toast.

Cameron’s gaze slid toward me with a prompting lift of his brow.

“Denver omelet, extra cheese?—”

“Hold the onions. Am I remembering that right?”

I arched a brow. “You’re good.”

“Most of the time.” He cupped a hand to his mouth, faux whispering, “You’ve ordered the same thing the last two times I had you on breakfast shift. Fellow creatures of habit recognize each other.” He winked, and John stared at him as he walked off before shaking his head.

“I swear the guys were not that good-looking when I was an undergrad here.”

“Your nose was always buried in a book, I’m sure.”

“Books and plenty of other things, but I’m telling you, the demographics have dramatically improved.” John would know, I supposed. He’d gone to college at the U, then law school before recently accepting a job with one of the big firms in town. “Oh, to do it all over again.” He sighed, then folded his hands on topof the table and fixed me with a relentless stare. “Well, are you going to make me drag it out of you as usual, or will you delight me by being forthcoming for once?”

I chuckled and sipped my coffee. “We have an established pattern. As Cameron over there says, ‘creatures of habit.’ I wouldn’t want to ruin it.”

“You’re maddening.”

“But I capitulate easily.”

“Tell me everything,” he demanded.

I laughed again. John had been one of my first dates when I’d finally decided to get with the times and download dating apps a couple of years ago, but we’d quickly realized the only chemistry we had was of the platonic sort. He remained one of the few who could draw me out of the shell I’d been occupying for the last several years. What could I say, it was cozy inside my academic cocoon, and there was less drama. Usually. “It was awful. Beginning and end of story. Not even worth recounting. I’m done with apps. I’m done with dating, in general.” I’d deleted them all as soon as I’d gotten home from the club. No more Campbells. Or Mikes who lied about being divorced. Or Georges who decided they were straight except while they were on the receiving end of blowjobs. Men who looked nothing like their photos and men who were stunningly attractive but should’ve worn a paper bag over their personality.

I’d had enough.

“But you will because I’m a shameless, nosy glutton who likes to rehash my youth vicariously through you.” John waggled his brows.

“You’re seven years younger than me.” I chuckled.

“And look ten older than you. I’m practically wizened by gay standards.” He waved a hand. “So what made it so awful? Pics didn’t match the reality?”

I’d encountered that a number of times on prior dates, but I shook my head. “The pics and reality aligned. He was maybe a couple of inches off of what he said, but?—”

“Height or dick?”

I snorted.

“What? One might matter more than the other.”

“Height, John. I didn’t get anywhere close to seeing his dick, and I didn’t want to.” Even recalling the first part of the night with Campbell made me wince. “We met at Gables, and yes, he was a very attractive man.”

“Promising start.” John flashed me a salacious smile.

“I should have turned around and walked right out after that.Thenit would have been a good date. But instead, we sat, and he proceeded to get absolutely blitzed on sangria. Again, not necessarily a deal breaker. I understand nerves. But he was just rude. Holier-than-thou with the server. Snippy, short, arrogant.”

“This sounds kinda familiar. Did you go on a date with yourself?”

I thwapped him from across the table. “I’m none of those things, and especially not short, snippy, and arrogant.Mostlynot short.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “And I’ve never in my life acted holier-than-thou with hospitality workers. I once was one, for fuck’s sake, and I still assert we’d all be better off if everyone was required to work in service and hospitality. Besides, you called me dour last week. That’s still not short, snippy, or arrogant.”

John sipped his coffee drolly. “It’s worse. But still worse than that is that you’re trying to distract me. Back to Campbell and his sangria.”