Page 12 of Summer Catch

“Hey, Ms. English Literature Grad Student, sometimes an answer is just an answer.” He kept his tone light and teasing, but he knew what she was saying. And he felt it, deep down.

What else could he even say? No, he’s just a friend, but I’ve got a mad, wild crush and I’m beginning to think it might be reciprocated, even though he told me the first time we met he was straight?

If he did tell Nadia all that, she’d shoot him one of those unimpressed looks he swore she practiced in front of a mirror and tell him if he wanted something, he should just go after it.

But how could he, without pushing Jon into something he’d explicitly said months ago he didn’t want?

If things had changed for him, then Jon needed to be the one to say so. Kieran wasn’t going to bring it up again, no matter how much he wanted to.

Thank you for always making me laugh, Jon texted back. Even though it was kind of a weird laugh-crying combo.

“See there,” Nadia said as he glanced back up at her. “I’ve worked for you for how long . . .three years?”

“Four,” Kieran said, uncertain where this was heading, but afraid he knew.

“Exactly. Four years and I’ve never seen you smile like that at anyone.”

“He’s a friend.”

Nadia crossed her arms over her chest. And then, yep, right on cue was that unimpressed glare. “He’s stuck you in the friend zone?”

Kieran told himself his ego was soothed, somewhat, by her question. “It’s not the friend zone if he’s straight.”

“Ouch.” She winced. “You fell for the straight guy, huh?”

“I—”

But Nadia didn’t let him finish. This was exactly why he hadn’t told her about Jon before this. “You fell for the straight guy.”

“Maybe he’s not straight,” Kieran said weakly.

“He’s not straight.”

That comment came from Brock, the new bartender he’d hired six months ago.

“What?” Kieran asked uncertainly.

Then he remembered. Brock had been here the last time Jon had shown up at the bar. The night Kieran had made a total fool out of himself by dropping a glass when Jon had so casually said, And people I want to fuck?

He’d forgotten, because it had been slow, so he’d texted Brock to come in late. It had picked up later in the night, but Brock’s appearance had overlapped Jon’s by at least forty-five minutes. Maybe an hour. Honestly, Kieran didn’t remember much about that night except the look in Jon’s brown eyes and the way he’d smiled and the way he’d been so undeniably charming. How much Kieran had desperately wanted to slide right over the bar and kiss him until neither of them could breathe.

“I was here, when he came in. That’s the guy, right?”

Kieran froze. Jon wasn’t just some random guy. He was the head coach for the Charleston Condors. Recognizable. And most definitely not out of the closet, if there even was a closet to mention.

“You see his eyes? I’ve not seen anyone panic like that in ages. And definitely not boss man here.” Nadia gave a confident nod. “That’s the guy.”

“He’s into you, boss. Definitely into you.” Brock sounded so sure Kieran felt a surge of envy.

“He’s not . . .uh . . .anything. We’re just friends.”

“Just friends my ass,” Brock teased.

“You gonna put the moves on him?” Nadia asked, nudging him with an elbow.

“Uh, no. No.” But Kieran knew he didn’t sound as sure as he’d felt only a few minutes ago. “He told me the first time we met he was straight. And he hasn’t told me any differently, since then.”

“Ah, I get it.” Nadia nodded knowingly. “You’re giving his little bisexual awakening some time to breathe. Smart. Let him come to you.”

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