Mocha Me Crazy

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Mocha Me Crazy Page 7

by Kristen Flowers


  “Would you like another beer?”

  “I’m not much of a beer person.”

  “I can see that,” he said quietly, “You seem more like a wine person?”

  I finally turned to look at him and gave a single nod, “I do enjoy wine.”

  “I had a wine vault built before moving in,” he said, “It’s worth a look.”

  I drew in a slow breath and nodded in agreement. I had time to kill anyway. Touring his ‘wine vault’ sounded a lot better than sitting around quietly. At least then we were actually doing something and not just staring at each other awkwardly. Hunter took my beer and set it down on a coaster on the coffee table before extending his hand. I stood up without taking it. He just shrugged before leading me past the fireplace. We walked toward the kitchen before arriving at a door. He pushed it open and we stepped inside a three-story wine vault. The lowest floor was surrounded with nothing but glass. It was breathtaking to say the least.

  “Wow,” I breathed out, slowly walking up to the glass.

  I had to admit, he had good taste. Hunter somehow took the extravagant and made it tasteful. He had a knack for mixing styles well. There was nothing basic or slouchy about his home at all. Even if I didn’t want to say it, I knew he could tell how taken aback I was.

  “Honestly, I can’t take all the credit for this,” he admitted, stepping beside me.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I saw one like this in a hotel in Vegas on TV and I just had to have it.”

  “Oh,” I said. There was faint disappointment in my voice. I couldn’t tell if it was because my initial reaction was one of appreciation or if it was because Hunter wanted to come off impressive because he could just get what he wanted whenever he wanted it.

  Once again, I was put off. I looked around and then made my way over to where there were racks of wine. There wasn’t much, but there were two more floors. It hit me that it was something of an overkill and it was hardly impressive to stand in a room full of wine, much less one that was essentially ripped off from one of the flashiest places in the world. Las Vegas was exactly everything I despised; and I hadn’t ever been there before.

  “Are you in the habit of just swooping in and buying anything you want?”

  Hunter took a step back and turned to look at me. I could see in his eyes that my tone was icy enough to bother him. I looked away and focused on the wall of windows. I was sure he was upset that he failed, yet again, to impress me. He was the type of guy who couldn’t accept that someone didn’t fawn over him. When I finally turned to look at him, he signaled for me to follow him instead of saying anything.

  I was hesitant again, but I figured there was nothing better to do anyway. Alice and Cal still hadn’t showed their faces and my suspicions of what the two of them were getting up to grew stronger by the minute. Hunter led me to another area of the wine vault. It was temperature controlled and seemed a lot more like what I might have imagined. He grabbed something off the floor and held it up for me to see.

  “What is that?”

  He pulled it open. It looked like some kind of harness. I stared at it in confusion and then looked at him for answers. This wasn’t making any sense but, then again, I was following his lead so it seemed only natural to me that things would be nonsensical.

  “Step into it,” he told me.

  “Step into it?” I repeated, completely puzzled.

  Hunter knelt and waited. I had no clue how to even respond to the situation, so I just did what he said. I might as well appease him to make the situation feel less confrontational.

  He waited until my feet were placed between the openings and then he slowly guided the harness up my legs without touching me. Still, something about him being so close to me and moving so deliberately made my heart pound. It was the type of nervousness I rarely experienced in my life. But I brushed the feeling away as quickly as possible. It didn’t mean anything. This was just an odd experience. That was all. But when he reached my hips and his hands brushed against them to finish strapping me in, I felt my cheeks flush a hot red. My heart started to pound faster and my chest tightened. I had to remind myself to breathe. I looked up at him and hoped he didn’t pick up on my rattled nerves.

  I was so preoccupied with my sudden reaction to his touch that I didn’t even pay attention when he attached a cable to the harness. Before I knew what was happening, Hunter used a hand control to hoist us both up using the cables. I let out a loud gasp of surprise and alarm.

  “It’s okay,” he reassured me.

  I looked into his eyes and immediately regretted it. They were honey-brown and deep. They made me feel something I wanted to ignore. It made all the feeling I had when he touched my hips rush through every fiber of my body. I looked over his shoulder and saw the windows pass us by until we were at the top floor, suspended by the cables and harness.

  Hunter nodded to the side and I saw we were in front of the very top rack of wine. It was meticulously organized, with every label centered and facing upward. Just with a glance I could see these were the prize wines. These were the bottles people didn’t just break open at any time. I looked into his eyes again and wondered if he was stupid enough to piss a bottle of wine like this away. But the alternative was something I couldn’t handle. The alternative was he thought I was worth sharing one of these bottles with.

  “Opus One?” he asked as he pulled out a bottle.

  Still utterly in shock, I could do nothing but nod. I had never done something so off the wall and different before. My eyes looked over at Hunter as he hung right next to me, inspecting a bottle. What was most shocking, however, was the thrill I felt.

  “I know this wine tower is a bit overkill. But I wanted it to be the center point of the house. See through there.” He pointed through the windows and wine racks as we hung suspended in mid-air. It was hard to make out because there were so much in the way, but I thought I could see a bed. “That’s my bedroom. And that over there,” He pointed at another wall through the tower, “is the game room. There are several rooms in the house where one of their walls looks into the wine tower. The design was too cool for me to pass up.” He laughed.

  My mind was a blur. I was far too in my head when he started to ease us down to the floor. It was like one moment we were hanging together midair and the next we were sitting on the back deck of his house. Hunter opened a trunk and pulled out a large, faux fur blanket. He wrapped me in it before pulling out another blanket and placing it over his lap and chest.

  “It’s a bit cold out here,” he said, “But enjoying a glass of great wine on the deck, well, there’s nothing like it.”

  I shifted in my chair and watched him pour wine into the glasses sitting atop the farm style outdoor table. It wasn’t outdated or out of place. It was quite lovely and added a sort of charm I would have never pegged to be Hunter’s style. As I placed the rim of the wine glass to my lips, I could no longer deny that the guy sitting across from me continued to surprise me.

  I took a small sip of wine and made a noise of approval.

  “I know,” he smiled, before taking a drink himself.

  I leaned back in my chair and looked up at the stars twinkling in the sky. I had never seen it so beautiful. Hunter was right– there was nothing like this. I took another sip and contemplated how I wound up drinking wine with the young slacker guy from the coffee shop. He was the same guy I immediately judged as a lazy playboy.

  We continued to drink in silence for a while, admiring the night sky. For that brief period of time, I didn’t think about Alice. I didn’t feel like I had been ditched and there was no anger coursing through me anymore. I was actually enjoying myself.

  “So,” Hunter finally spoke up, “Am I still the person you think I am?”

  I swallowed the wine in my mouth and glanced over at him, “Who do I think you are?”

  “Let’s see. You already know I’m not a slacker living off daddy’s money, but I’m sure you still don’t think I’m ex
actly a stand-up guy. I want to know why.”

  “Do you really care what I think of you and why I think it?”

  “Do you think I’d bring it up if I didn’t?”

  I shifted in my chair and turned to look at him, contemplating my answer. I wasn’t sure what to say next. I hated not knowing things. I hated when things didn’t make sense and Hunter made no sense at all, in any way.

  “I think maybe it bothers you to think I don’t like you.” I said, quickly avoiding his gaze.

  “So, you’re admitting you dislike me?”

  “That’s not what I said,” I made it clear.

  Hunter hummed and gave a small nod, “Okay. Is it because I don’t strike you as a serious person?”

  “Honestly, you don’t.”

  “And that’s a problem for you.” He said pointedly.

  “That didn’t sound like a question.”

  “It wasn’t a question,” he informed me.

  I took another sip of wine. Before setting my glass back down on the table I took a second sip—nearly a gulp. This conversation with Hunter was different than all the others we had. He was different and so was I. Something was changing between us and it was confusing the hell out of me.

  “So why are you so sure it is a problem for me?”

  “Because you’re so serious all the time. You’re easily the most serious person I’ve ever met. It’s excessive. Look, I’m not insulting you, Cassie. I just observe and tell it like it is.”

  “You are far from the first person to tell me I’m too serious, Hunter,” I told him with mock laughter, “Don’t think I’ll be insulted by it coming from you.”

  “But it does bother you.”

  “What? That you’re not serious? We already-”

  “No,” he interrupted, “It bothers you to be constantly told. Maybe it even bothers you to be that way. I don’t know. That’s the part I can’t figure out.”

  I drained the rest of my glass and helped myself to more. I took in a deep breath and looked up at the night sky. Even on the best nights, there was never anything like this back in North Carolina. I knew both my mother and father would absolutely love to be sitting there. Although my dad would be doing his annoying thing where he’d point out every star in the sky and name it. I call it annoying, but I secretly loved it.

  “I’m serious,” I told Hunter, “Because I’m more like my dad than my mom.”

  “So, is he the same as you or… more?”

  “You can say ‘worse’, you know. I know that’s what you mean.”

  “It isn’t. It isn’t what I mean.”

  I looked at him and held my breath for a moment. I could tell he was being genuine. Something inside me stirred and I took a long drink of wine.

  “He’s a lot less than me,” I finally confessed, “It’s just that my mom, she isn’t serious at all. She’s the polar opposite of me. I don’t want to be reckless. I’m not a free spirit who is fine just going about things day by day without a plan. I want to succeed and be respected.”

  Hunter leaned forward on the table, “I’m going to start off by asking you something,” he told me quietly, “And I really hope you answer honestly. Do you think your parents are unsuccessful? Do you think they aren’t respected?”

  I sighed and looked down for a moment, “My dad invented something major and my mom, she just wants to be the best mom in the world. She wants to be my best friend. She doesn’t want to be cold the way her parents were.”

  “Neither of those sound like bad things.”

  I laughed and buried my face in my hands, “Oh gosh, I know. It’s just that I can’t shake this feeling that being reckless means not being respected.”

  “You know,” Hunter started, “Being respected is overrated.” He paused and took a sip from his glass before going on, “And you can be successful without having the respect of assholes. You don’t need, or want, the respect of those people anyway.”

  I stayed quiet. I took a few more sips and looked at the stars. Despite how cold it was outside, I was comfortable. That was something I never thought I’d feel hanging out with Hunter.

  I let out a soft laugh.

  “What is it?”

  I shook my head. Even I thought it would be too needlessly cruel to tell him I never thought we would be hanging out together. Nothing about that night was normal for me, but somehow, I didn’t entirely hate it. And while that scared me, it also felt freeing in a way. Maybe that was his real charm—the fact that he could break through the wall I put up around myself.

  The first day I saw him felt like a lifetime ago. That was the day I decided he was unbearable.

  I took another sip of wine before trying to change the subject, “so what’s your story Hunter?”

  He waved his hand and looked away, “Oh it’s nothing interesting.”

  “Come on! You don’t end up having a house like this in Vail at your age without having an interesting story.” I shot back as he looked at me with a half-smile. “How did you start your business? Come to think of it, I don’t even know what your business is? Where are you from originally?” I bombarded him with questions and quickly shut myself up when I realized how much I dumped on him at once. I was just tired of him being a mystery to me.

  He looked up at the stars for a moment and let out a small sigh. He was thinking about something. That’s when I noticed he wasn’t giving me some fake humble response when he said his past ‘wasn’t interesting’. Instead, he didn’t feel comfortable talking about it.

  “Sorry, we don’t have to talk about that I was just—”

  “I’m from Chicago,” he said, cutting me off. “Both Cal and I are from there.”

  “Chicago, wow. Sounds a lot better than Boone, North Carolina.” I laughed.

  “Maybe. Probably not where I’m from though.” He shrugged. “There are a lot of opportunities in the city, but I grew up in not the best of parts. It wasn’t the worst, but it wasn’t the best either.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” I said with a worried look. “Are your parents still in Chicago?”

  He looked at me for a long moment in silence. For a second I thought I had touched a sensitive topic. “I don’t talk to them much.”

  Apparently, it was a sensitive topic.

  “Oh.” I said, looking away and trying to hide my face from embarrassment. I knew I didn’t do anything wrong, but it still felt bad knowing I made him feel awkward.

  “I’m sorry Hunter if I…”

  “No, its okay. I don’t mind talking about it. At least not with you.” He said with a smile. “There’s not a whole lot to tell. My dad left before I could remember. Eventually my mom ended up with my step-dad. He hated me from the beginning. I think I was a constant reminder that my mother still loved my biological father. Long story short—she chose my step-dad over me. So, I left and never went back.”

  “I’m really sorry Hunter.” I looked down into my wine glass. I didn’t want to pry anymore so I quickly scanned my brain for another topic. “So how did you start your company?”

  He instantly lit up with a smile. Finally, a subject he felt good about. “I uh,” he started. He took another sip of wine before continuing, “I left my parent’s house when I was pretty young and I eventually lied on a job application at the baseball stadium.”

  “You bad person you.” I teased as I playfully pushed him with my elbow.

  “Well I wasn’t the best person.” He laughed. “But it’s not easy dropping out of school, couch surfing amongst the friends you do have, and finding a way to make money. So, I eventually ended up lying on an application so I could get a job selling hotdogs.”

  “How old do you have to be to sell hotdogs?”

  “Sixteen.”

  My mouth fell open as I started to piece things together. “How old were you when you left home?”

  “Fourteen.”

  “Holy shit.”

  He just nodded his head. I covered my mouth when I found out how rude I was
being. I was usually able to keep my words in check, but the alcohol was starting to have an effect on my manners.

  “So, hotdogs?”

  “Yep, I got my start selling wieners.” He said with a suggestive smile.

  We both laughed as he went on, “that’s where I met Cal. He was a few years older than me and sort of took me under his wing. He also gave me a place to stay when I didn’t have one.”

  “Wow, that’s very nice of him.”

  “I know he comes off as an immature clown. And, in many ways, he is. But he’s one of the best people I know. When it counts, he has a good heart.”

  I took another sip as I listened to him go on. It was interesting to hear him open up to me. He probably didn’t talk to many others about his past.

  “Anyway, so we sold hotdogs together at the baseball park. It wasn’t too bad. You get to be outside all day and get to watch baseball games for free. But I knew I wanted more in life, so I spent all of my free time learning every coding language I could get my hands on. Eventually I built an app that allowed people to order food in the stands and have it delivered to them in their seats. No more getting up and missing the game and the people delivering the food don’t have to wander around aimlessly looking for customers.”

  I looked at him dumbfounded, “so you made all this money by a food ordering app for stadiums?”

  “No! Hell no!” He laughed, “I mean yea, that was the beginning. Cal and I made a decent amount of money for a couple twenty-something-year-olds. That got our foot in the door with all the major stadiums in Chicago. Eventually we built other apps that helped stadium operations across the country. Now most point-of-sale programs in every major stadium is from our company.”

  “That is…incredibly impressive.” I said, looking into the sky and wondering why I hadn’t gotten my own life together yet.

  “Thank you.” Hunter said with a smile.

  “So, Cal helped you build the apps?”

  Hunter smirked. He could tell I was surprised at the role Cal played in the business. “No, I made the apps in the beginning. But Cal is a surprisingly good pitch-man. He can talk any stadium manager’s ear off until they give in and give us a try.” We both laughed.

 

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