How I Lost You by Janet Gurtler

been by, but he didn’t need to know that. Levi held the door open. I slipped by him. He smelled good. Clean. Freshly showered. His dark hair was still wet on the ends.
    â€œSee ya, Carly,” he called.
    She completely ignored my narrowed eyes.
    Levi and I stopped at our cars to put away our yoga gear and then walked on to the coffee shop. Levi carried the conversation while I gave dorky one-word answers. When we got to the coffee shop, he insisted on buying, took my order, and suggested I find a table. I headed to an open spot, threw my zebra purse underneath, and sat. Music filtered through speakers in the ceiling but I heard Levi and the barista chatting as she got the order ready. Soon Levi joined me and placed my usual lavender tea in front of me. Then he plunked down a mug of hot chocolate with whipped cream and chocolate drizzles opposite me. It smelled heavenly and I wished that I’d gone with the same thing. I always forgot about other choices and went with the familiar.
    â€œYou want to switch drinks?” he asked, nodding at my drink as he sat. My face must have given me away.
    I shook my head quickly. “No. That’s okay.”
    â€œYou sure?”
    I nodded.
    â€œYou’re worried about calories?” he asked.
    My face warmed. He laughed aloud and put up his hands in defense. “No. I did NOT mean it that way. Obviously, you don’t have to. Arrgh.” He slid his hot chocolate in front of me. “I need to take some lessons in talking to girls.”
    My cheeks cooled to pink. “You don’t have to give me your drink.”
    â€œIt’s the least I can do. I can’t believe I said that.” He took my lavender tea, sipped at it, and his nose squished up as if he’d swallowed medicine. “Mmm,” he said.
    I smiled. “Lavender tea one of your favorites?”
    He coughed but grinned even as he choked. He pointed to the drink he’d slid in front of me on the table. “At least drink the hot chocolate. I didn’t mean to be a jerk.”
    I took a sip. Foam tickled my lip and I wiped it away self-consciously. It tasted delicious. When I glanced up, he was staring at me, a half smile turning up his lip. “I have a confession to make,” he said.
    My brows pressed together, expecting something horrible.
    â€œI heard you were going to hot yoga today. I mean, I honestly did go to hot yoga in Vancouver. It helps with stress and with breathing, for running.” He paused, took another sip of tea, and grimaced. “But today, I was hoping to see you.”
    I stared into the whipped cream, at a loss as to how to respond. “You run?” It’s not what I wanted to say.
    Do you like me? Do you think I’m pretty? Is that stress related to the temper your cousin mentioned?
    â€œActually, I play soccer.” He looked kind of mortified. “Do I sound like a stalker?”
    â€œYes,” I answered with a straight face. He looked horrified and I laughed. “I’m kidding. But how’d you hear about yoga?”
    â€œKya said something.”
    â€œShe did?” I took a sip of hot chocolate and stared into it. “You know, usually guys want to meet her. Not me.”
    â€œReally? I mean she’s pretty and stuff. But she’s more my cousin’s type. Not that you’re not. Pretty, I mean. Not Lucas’s type, but, oh God, I need to stop talking.”
    I laughed and shook my head, wanting to ask what his type was. Me? There was a pause in our conversation as my brain stopped functioning. Jazzy music played in the background.
    â€œSo. Tell me about paintball,” he said when it must have become glaringly apparent my ability to converse without prompting no longer existed.
    I took another sip of hot chocolate to buy myself time. “Why I play? I love it.”
    â€œYeah. You’re good. But how’d you get into it? It’s kind of different. For a girl, I mean. No