Strawberries Taste How Lips Do

About ten minutes after my alarm went off, there was a knock at my door. I checked my phone, which read 6:55, and I was confused why someone would be at my door.

“Ms. Fletcher?” someone spoke as I opened the door.

“Yes?”

“Your… breakfast?” he laughed, handing me a huge cup of coffee. Probably the size of my face. Not even kidding.

“I didn’t order any co--”

“I know. All I’m supposed to tell you is to read the cup,” he instructed before wishing me a good day and shuffling down the hallway.

I closed my door and shook my head. What the hell?

Sure enough, right under the lid of the cup in messy handwriting:

“Tweety- For keeping you up past your bedtime. -65”

Andrew Shaw bought me coffee. Alright. I raised my cup toward my closed door with a smile before taking a sip, letting the warm liquid start to wake me up.

After a few more sips of what was essentially perfect-drinking-temperature coffee, I retreated to the bathroom to start my makeup, all the while wondering what was happening. I mean, Andrew Shaw of the Chicago Blackhawks, one of the league’s most underrated players -- not to mention one of my favorites -- had bought me coffee after only speaking to me for a total of five minutes. And I wasn't dead yet.

My phone was sitting on the counter, blasting something shuffled from my Spotify. I hummed along absentmindedly as I applied powder, eye shadow, and eyeliner. Just as I was finishing with a swipe of mascara, the music on my phone shut off and my phone began to ring. I swiped it open, not even bothering to see who it was.

“Hello?”

“You texted me in your sleep last night,” Lorelai’s voice cut in, still masked in sleep.

“Good morning to you, too, Lo,” I sassed, shoving the phone between my shoulder and my ear while walking to the main room. I opened my drawer and grabbed my black skinny jeans and quickly replaced my pajama pants.

“You were super wasted and wanted to freak me out,” she said.

“Wrong.” I answered simply, threading my belt through the loops.

“Please tell me this is one of your elaborate plots to make me jealous as payback for Poughkeepsie last year,” Lo groaned, and I could hear her rolling over in her bed.

“Honestly, I almost wish that it was,” I offered, clicking my phone to speaker as I changed into a flowy tank top and threw on my grey blazer. "Huh. That's actually a pretty good revenge line. Next thing you know, Andrew and I could be---"

“Evidence,” she cut me off.

“The only thing I have is not substantial in any way,” I huff as I walk into the bathroom, plugging my curling iron into the wall.

“Try me,” she demands. I groan.

“Fine, I’ll Snapchat it to you,” I say, pressing my home button and grabbing my coffee. I took a picture of the writing on the side of it, selected Lorelai’s snap name, then returned to the phone call. “Okay, go lo--”

“NO FUCKING WAY!” she squeaked. “He bought you coffee?!”

“Nope. I bought myself coffee, wrote myself a note, and had it delivered to my door.”

“Oh fuck off. Max, this is crazy. Why’s he there?” She asked, now fully awake.

“Well the Hawks played the Pens last night, and they don't play for another week, so maybe they just chose to fly back today? I have no idea. I didn’t talk to him much,” I said, shrugging to myself as I wrapped my hair around the iron. “But I’ve gotta go. Distracting me while I’m holding a hot object near my head is probs not the best.”

“Alright, dude. But you’re filling me in later,” She said. I agree with her and the call disconnects.

About a half hour later, my hair is curled, and my coffee is about half gone. I pushed my presentation papers in my tote, double checked that I had my wallet -- room key and all -- and headed out, making sure I had what was left of my coffee. As I was halfway down the hall when I heard almost the same voices coming toward the elevator.

When I turned the corner, I was expecting to see Andrew, so his face didn’t surprise me, but the faces of the rest of the Hawks nearly gave me a heart attack. They were all dressed fairly casually, dark jeans, some wearing button ups, others just wearing t-shirts.

God, they were attractive. And most of them seemed to be holding a cup just as large as mine.

I shuffled to the elevator before any of them made it, too caught up in conversation anyway, and pushed the down button. I was not going to get starstruck. I was going to remain calm and collected and go to my presentation, and that was that.

Hah. Cute.

I took a nervous sip from my cup as the doors slid open, checking my phone and allowing a few of them to go ahead of me.

“Just one drink. I promise I won’t even spike it with a pocket shot this time,” a familiar voice croaked. Andrew was not part of the cool coffee club, apparently. I kept my eyes glued to my phone as he and two others came into the elevator as well.

“Aww, did Shawzy not get enough beauty sleep?” someone taunted, before taking a long drink of their coffee. I smiled to myself, taking a drink of my own. Andrew elbowed whoever said that -- was it David Rundblad? Oh my god it was. -- before Trevor chided in, pushing the button for the first floor as everyone settled in.

“Aww come on, Rundy, it’s not Andy’s fault he gave his coffee away,” Trevor started. “Oh. Wait. Yes it is. You’re most definitely out of luck, Mutt.”

I don’t know how I had managed this long without laughing. I laughed a bit before covering it with a cough and taking another drink of my coffee.

The elevator came to a soft stop, I pushed myself past Andrew with a quiet “Excuse me, Tweety Bird”, and walked quickly in front of the team to get to the front doors before them. I heard a quiet “wait, what?” behind me as I walked through the lobby and smiled to myself.

“Max!” I heard Andrew call, quickly followed by hurried footsteps. I turned on my heel, spinning to face him.

“You’re a bit slow to the gate without the coffee, aren’t you?” I sassed, taking a long drink out of my gifted cup. “Thank you, by the way.” A quick glance over his shoulder showed Trevor van Riemsdyk, David Rundblad, and Bryan Bickell all quietly observing our conversation.

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” he said, smiling. “When’re ya gonna be back to Chicago?”

“Tonight around 5, about,” I answered, knowing where this could be possibly leading. “You?”

“We’re heading out right now, actually,” he said, throwing a thumb back at the team, before glancing over his shoulder. Bicks, Rundy, and TVR pretended that they weren’t looking at the two of us “So probably back around noon.” We both started walking a little closer to the door, the boys behind us moving just a few paces on our heels.

“Well, say hi to my city for me before I get there,” I said with a smile.

He looks down for a second, smiling at the ground before looking back at me, and I swear my heart just about melted.

“Hey, so… Tonight,” he said shyly, scratching at the nape of his neck. God, he’s adorable when he’s nervous. “Think you’ll be too tired to catch a drink with me?”

I hoped he couldn’t see my face turn red. “I, uh…” I stammered. “N-no. Not at all.”

Did I just agree to a date with Andrew Shaw?

“Really?” He said, his eyes widening, a slight twinge of pink on his scarred cheeks. “It’s a date then.”

Holy shit. I definitely did.

“Unless you don’t want it to be a date! Ya know, incase you don’t...” he added quickly, holding his hand out in a cautious manner. “It can just be a drink.”

“It’s a date then,” I repeated, smiling as I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. A smile pushed at the corner of his lips as we stepped outside. “Meet at the Library on Kinzie at 7?” We were standing outside of a cab that looked like he’d bolt any second if I didn’t get in.

“Yeah, sounds good,” he said, opening my door. “Good luck on the presentation.”

I waved in response as he shut my door, the cabbie zooming off as soon as it was closed.

I had to call Lo.

She picked up within the first two rings.

“If it wasn’t you, I wouldn’t answer because it’s 7:45 in the FUCKING MORNING,” she said, jokingly.

“I’m going on a date with him?!” I squeal into the phone. The cabbie gives me a questionable look through the rear view mirror.

Lorelai didn’t say anything.

“Lo? You there?”

“I need a minute,” she said, and the line goes dead.

Well, that went well.

About an hour later, my cab pulled up to the office where I was giving my presentation. I paid the cabbie, and immediately called Lorelai. She picked up on the first few rings.

“Are you good now?” I asked, heading into the huge glass building.

“Probably not. Now what the hell did you just say to me?” Lorelai said, sounding as if she just spent the last hour sitting on her bed with a confused look on her face.

“I, Max Fletcher,” I said slowly, making this hell for her because why the hell not (earning me an exasperated ‘fuck off’). “Am going out for a drink with Andrew Shaw tonight after I get home from Pittsburgh.”

“You’re going out for a drink with Andrew Shaw,” she repeated. “Oh great. Lovely. Dandy. I LOVE IT.” Lorelai spazzed. I let her run her mouth for a while as I got into the elevator, holding the phone away from my face, earning a few strange looks from the others in the elevator with me.

“Lo.” I tried. Nope, still going. I slipped out of the elevator with an apologetic look to whoever overheard any of the things coming out of her mouth.

“Lorelai.” I said a little more sternly. Still nothing.

“Lorelai Leigh Huff!”

“What!?”

“I have to do my presentation. I’ll call you after, okay?” I lowered my voice a bit. College fairs always intimidated me.

“No need, I have to go to work. Just keep me updated,” she settled. I agreed, and we disconnected just as I found the hall for my presentation.

It seems a lot easier to talk about how much you love your Alma Mater when you’re still enrolled in classes and you don’t see the insane bill looming over your head. It’s especially hard to talk about how much you love your school when you’re trying to brag about it to someone else in hopes they’ll spend exorbitant amounts of money chasing their dreams, and with their degree, only end up being a University Recruiter.

I’m very possibly a little bitter.

All in all, the presentation went as well as I expected. I got blindsided a few times by some hopefuls about majors we had, and once about someone asking me if there was a hockey team, which of course brought me back to my… thing with Andrew tonight.

I always hated being distracted.

I made do, and before I knew it, I was back in a cab and on my way back to the hotel.

As soon as I got back to my room, I exchanged my skinny jeans and blazer for my well-loved sweatpants and an old band tee. I packed everything quickly, headed downstairs, and started checking out.

I only realized that the $45 room key replacement charge was gone after I was in my cab on the way to the airport. When I called the hotel to dispute it, they had told me that the Blackhawks had taken care of it. I didn’t stop smiling the whole rest of the cab ride.