Most Ardently

by Gabe Cole Novoa

The bartender looked up at him and smiled. He was handsome. Distractingly handsome, really, with dimples and a sharp jawline and a corded neck— “What can I get you?” the bartender asked with that broad, dimple-marked smile. And now he had a decision. This was his last chance to back out. He could order an ale and leave. Or just return home now. But he’d be kicking himself if he didn’t try, so he leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I’m … looking for the coffeehouse?” Oliver’s voice broke slightly at the question, and he winced. But the bartender didn’t seem to notice, or if he noticed he didn’t care. Instead, his smile somehow grew even wider. “First time?” he asked softly, and heat crept up Oliver’s neck. Was it really so obvious? Oliver laughed slightly and smiled apologetically. “Yes.” “Not to worry,” the bartender responded cheerfully. “You’ll have a great time. Head to the left side of the room, where you’ll find the stairs up to the lodging rooms. The one you’re looking for is at the very top, the last door on the right. Knock three times and ask for a coffee.” It was all so clandestine, which, oddly, crowded some of his anxiety with excitement. He thanked the bartender, then followed his instructions, through the oblivious crowd, up the creaky stairs, down an even creakier hallway and to the last door on the right. Soft, unintelligible murmurs of voices leaked from beneath the door. Oliver swallowed hard, ignoring the way his heart all but pummeled his ribs, and k...

my precious baby