Four
“So…” I said, stirring my latte, just so I had something to do.
“So,” Derek replied, seeming both nervous and amused.
We’d seen each other on so many occasions, but this was probably the first time that we sat across each other without having work or a new gadget to talk about.
I fidgeted with my spoon, unsure whether the tension was a good or bad sign. “So…”
“So… How’s your coffee?”
“Good. How’s your tea?”
He nipped from the porcelain mug, the steam fogging his glasses. “It’s nice. How’s yours?”
“You just asked,” I pointed out, a nervous chuckle escaping me.
“So I did.” His mouth pulled into a grin. “Sorry.”
“No, don’t be sorry!”
He nodded in relief. “Alright. So how’s your coffee? No, I mean— Aww, damn it.”
“Wow, we’re bad at this,” I remarked, not entirely surprised. We
