Christmas Frappe
How do you take your frappe? Creamy or covered in whipped cream—or both.
Hating everything to do with the holiday season, Dan wanders into his local coffee shop. The hot, young barista, Brad, is working, his presence promising to brighten his day. Dan is having his usual, coffee—black, but Brad's flirtatious remark about whipped cream has Dan's mind racing.
That night, a dreaded Christmas party has Dan on edge until he spots his favorite barista. When Brad pulls a canister of whipped cream from the fridge, Dan's night takes a festive turn.
Hot, frothy, and sweet. Brad is about to change Dan's mind about the holidays.
I hate Christmas. I know it's an unpopular sentiment, but everything about the holiday season gets my back up. The decorations, the carolers, the chaos in the stores … and especially all the specialty drinks that start with pumpkin spice lattes in the fall and end with the sickening sweet peppermint candy mocha cappuccinos rampaging the coffee shops through the month of December.
I'm a traditionalist. I like my coffee black. Straight up. No sugar, no flavoring, no creamer, no fancy whipped milk, frothing up my lips. I like my coffee like I live my life. Nothing fancy. Just straight up honest work during the day and a tidy, organized space to come home to at night.
After three years of living together, my roommate, Peter, knows to keep his crafting activities within the confines of his bedroom. After a long day of working outdoors, framing the latest batch of townhomes taking over the city, the last thing I need to come home to is a mountain of glitter.
I have a lighter side, of course. I enjoy a good comedian and a dinner out with someone special. Not that there has been anyone in a while. I've hit a bit of a dry spell on the dating front; the men on Grindr rarely holding my interest. I like to go out, enjoy the sights, but I'm also a bit of a homebody. Not many men are looking for that. Cuddling in front of the television watching a good movie doesn't always appeal. I refuse to compromise, though. It's what I'm looking for.
At least that's what I keep telling myself.
The lineup in the local café is moving more slowly than usual. Brad, the barista, is being particularly chatty, taking time to wish everyone happy holidays. I pull my punch card with the café logo in the top left corner from my wallet. I'm almost due for a free coffee. One stamp left to collect.
I've been coming to the same caffeine depot since I moved into my apartment three years back. Brad started working there about four months ago and has become a bit of a staple. He's working most days of my 7-day-per-week coffee routine.
I fiddle with my bank card, tapping it on my thumbnail. I'm next in line.
"Good morning, Dan." A bright smile greets me as I approach the counter. "I'll grab you your coffee." I'm both pleased and embarrassed that Brad knows my order.
He glides effortlessly behind the counter, his ass peeking out from beneath the apron strings. High and round, two globes atop muscular legs. I roll my eyes and turn my attention to what's on offer in the baked goods display. Anything to keep from staring at him. Brad is nothing if not easy on the eyes. His young, toned body has a habit of warming me through.
"Are you sure you don't want any whipped cream or anything on that today? " Brad pushes my coffee across the counter toward me.
"I'm not into whipped cream." I check the lid to make sure it's pushed down on all sides.
"Never …" Brad tips his head to one side and smiles. "Because some people find that whipped cream has its time and place on more than coffee and hot chocolate."
I can't help but smirk. The reason I've been enjoying frequenting this particular coffee shop for the past four months. Brad never misses an opportunity to flirt with me. It's a great ego boost first thing in the morning. Tends to carry me through the day.
"I might make an exception for that."
Brad winks at me, slides the debit machine toward me, then stamps my punch card. "I knew there was an adventurous side in there somewhere."
The most I can manage is a grunt. I know my face has turned a multitude of shades of crimson. I snag my coffee and turn to leave.
"Happy holidays, Dan."
I try my best not to cringe.
Peter crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe to my bedroom. "It's not a Christmas party as such. Everyone has a few days off over the holidays, so we're taking the opportunity to get a bunch of people together. I doubt Karen even has her house decorated. She's not the type."
I haul in a ragged breath. Peter has been harassing me for what seems like hours. I typically wouldn't let him wear me down, but I'm feeling somewhat receptive. My Grindr date for the night canceled, leaving me at a loose end for the evening. Brad's flirting this morning has me feeling somewhat uninhibited. Certainly, feeling good about myself. I could use a night out.
"Fine …fine, I'll go."
Peter beams at me. "Sweet. I'll let Karen know."
