Page 2 of Bear the Burden

“What can I get for you?” Curling his lips in to hide his grimace, Wesley stood. The pain wasn’t as bad, but it still shot through his leg.

The stranger stood to his full height, which was impressively tall.

When Wesley finally got a good look at the stranger, he found himself staring at raw, unfiltered masculinity. Holy crap. The man’s dark hair was styled in a tousled cut, and his face held sharp contours in his cheekbones and jawline.

Wesley’s gaze slid lower, skimming over a physique of sculpted muscles. Good lord. Could the guy’s T-shirt stretch any harder over his mouthwatering body?

Stop eye-banging his muscles.

Ripping his eyes away from the stranger’s chest, Wesley stared into his smoky-gray eyes. The man’s smile vanished, and now he just stood there gazing at Wesley as if hypnotized.

Suddenly, Wesley felt as if he’d known this man forever. It was a strange feeling, but it was there, in the center of his chest.

“Sir?” Wesley had no idea why he felt that way. “What can I get for you?” he repeated.

“Do you need me to smack you in the back of the head to reboot your brain?” the guy next to Smoky Eyes asked.

Wesley just now noticed someone else was standing there. The two shared enough similar features that he assumed they were related.

“You can get me your phone number, handsome,” Smoky Eyes said with a sexy grin that flattened Wesley. It was the kind of smile that granted him instant access to a lot of erotic fantasies.

“At least let me order some food before you start flirting, Hyett,” the guy next to him said. Then he looked at Wesley. “Can I get a large, cheesy-crust pizza with pepperoni, ham, bacon, and Italian sausage?”

Wesley quickly grabbed the order pad lying close to a stack of napkins, hoping he didn’t forget what the guy had just said.

“Also,” he continued, “I’d like your sixteen-wing order.”

“What sauce?” he asked, trying his best to ignore Hyett. Even though Wesley was looking down, he still felt the man’s penetrating gaze.

And secretly, he liked it.

“The hottest you have,” the guy replied. “And an order of your cheesy-garlic breadsticks with marinara dipping sauce. I’d like a Coke, too.” He turned to Hyett. “What do you want?”

This had to be a to-go order the man was going to share with others. There was no way one person could eat that much. Grant it, he was even bulkier than Smoky Eyes, an inch or two taller, with just as much muscle, but still… Who would go through so much trouble to achieve a body like his, only to wreck it with such unhealthy food?

“I’ll take a calzone with extra pepperoni and an order of those breadsticks my brother ordered, with the same dipping sauce. Also, the same number of wings, but with honey-barbeque sauce, and a bottled water.” The side of Hyett’s mouth curled into a sweet smile. “And I still need your phone number and your name, if you don’t mind.”

“Wesley,” he found himself saying even before he knew the word was forming. There was no denying how attracted he was to Hyett, but Wesley didn’t flirt, let alone date, and least of all become intimate.

Not after the disaster he’d suffered through the last time he’d had sex. More like tried to have it. One night, a year and a half ago, he’d gone home with some rando from a bar. The guy had taken one look at Wesley’s leg, and the most crude, heartless things had flown from his mouth.

But it was being called a monster that had gut-punched Wesley the hardest. Since then, he’d given up trying to become intimate with anyone. He didn’t even wear shorts, no matter how hot it was.

He was not putting himself through that again, especially with someone as gorgeous as Hyett. “You two can take a seat if you want. Your orders should take roughly twenty minutes.”

“What about your phone number, Wesley?” Hyett sounded sincere, and Wesley was attracted to him, but it wasn’t going to happen.

“Dude, he’s clearly not interested,” the brother said. “Why are you pushing it?”

“Back off, Killian.” There was a slight growl to Hyett’s voice, which made Wesley move even faster, momentarily forgetting to hide his limp. Jackson used that same tone, which told him Hyett had a temper.

Now he knew for certain Hyett wasn’t getting his number, although he hadn’t planned on giving it out anyway.

“Why are you moving so fast?” Cyrus asked when Wesley entered the kitchen with the ticket he could have easily handed through the order window.

He didn’t answer his boss, just went straight for the stool next to the stainless-steel workstation. Unfortunately, his leg buckled under him, and he crashed to the floor with a cry of pain.

Cyrus was at his side in seconds, squatting as he helped Wesley to sit up. “How bad?”

---