Page 15 of Back to You

“For you? You bet.”

Brandon reached out and took Ethan’s hand. They laced their fingers together as Ethan pressed his forehead against Brandon’s and breathed him in. He had missed this so much.

“Hey,” said Brandon with a smile.

“Hey. I love you.”

“I know.”

“Did you just Han Solo me?”

“You love it.” Brandon pulled their joined hands up and kissed Ethan’s. “What were you thinking about?”

“Nothing.”

“Bull. You always stare when you’re thinking.”

“I was just remembering the day we met,” Ethan admitted with a grimace.

And just like he always did, Brandon cracked up laughing.

***

Three years earlier

Ethan stepped through the door into the unexpected.

He was something of a connoisseur of coffee shops. From the generically soothing Starbucks to the kooky local hipster haunt filled with a mix of antiques and fairy lights. Ethan was an unapologetic cafe slut — eager and willing to try as many as he could. This one was in a class of its own.

Every wall was a stark, glossy white, and covered at varying intervals with drawings, scribbles and words. Bins were placed around the area — Ethan glanced into the nearest and saw dry-erase markers. He grinned as he realized that the entire cafe was one big whiteboard that customers could decorate as they wished. At the top of one wall was written in a lovely script “Keep it classy — OR ELSE”. Another wall contained the cafe’s drink menu written in the same script.

To offset the starkness of the walls, tables with colorful resin-coated mosaic tops were scattered throughout the space, dark red cushioned chairs at each. Bright yellow drapes framed the front windows, matching the pendant lights hanging throughout the space. The counter was a glossy black, and behind it were clean and meticulously tidy shelves containing coffee beans, syrups, and all the necessary tools of a modern cafe.

Through a door on the side of the cafe, he saw a good-sized soft play area. Several small children ran wild there, watched over by relieved-looking parents sipping drinks in the cafe. The wall and door between the two spaces was totally windows, allowing parents to keep track of their offspring while enjoying a moment of relaxation.

In the midst of all the brightness and color stood a tall, dark-haired man, arms crossed and eyebrows drawn down into a magnificent scowl.

Clearly, this was the enforcer of the “OR ELSE” written on the wall.

Ethan crossed the room and surreptitiously studied the grump behind the counter. Once he looked past the “try me, bitch” attitude, Ethan noted that the man was actually extremely attractive. Dark, wavy hair kept fairly short, dark brown eyes behind black-framed glasses and just a hint of scruff. Then he skimmed his gaze down and caught on the man’s tan, muscled forearms and sighed. Damn.

“What can I get you?” said a deep voice as Ethan continued perving on the grump’s sexy arms. Hey, some guys were ass men — Ethan was an arm man.

Ethan reluctantly turned his attention to the grump’s face, then immediately away as he realized the scowl had deepened. Yikes.

“Regular drip coffee, whatever dark roast you have,” Ethan said, avoiding the grump’s eyes as he pulled out his wallet. No need to give the guy a reason to be angrier — clearly the brightness of the decor was to make up for the demon behind the counter.

Grump nodded and rang up the purchase, then grabbed a cup and poured. He handed it over to Ethan just as a small blonde missile plowed through the door to the play area.

“Brandon, what are you doing up here? Where is Marcus?” she demanded, smiling at Ethan as though to apologize.

“He got sick, had to go home,” the Grump, aka Brandon, muttered, attention now on the tiny woman glaring at him.

“I thought we agreed you would stay in the back and let other people deal with customers,” she said.

“I know, but —“

“No, back to the kitchen, I’ll man the counter.” With that she dismissed Brandon with a wave of her hand.

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