Page 12 of Johann

Danny was staring at Soren once more like Jay was saying something significant.

Soren sighed, looking Jay over again. “You think?” he asked, clearly talking to Danny even with his eyes on Jay. “The odds of it all. So unlikely…”

Jay cocked his head. “What are you two—”

“Johann.” Roman cut him off, his voice softer than usual. “Why not help me set these plates up in the living room?”

Again, Jay wasn’t stupid, despite what some people might think. He knew he’d said something that had set the other two off. But Roman was already ushering him out of the kitchen with one hand on his back. “Tell me more about this regular.”

“Oh! Um, he’s very handsome. And you already know about the cupcake smell. I guess I don’t know a lot about him otherwise. But he never laughs at me. I do like that.”

Roman frowned thoughtfully as he arranged his plates. Jay was about to ask why everyone was so obsessed with the regular—it wasn’t like they’d seen for themselves how handsome he was, other than Soren—when the doorbell rang, signifying the other guests had arrived.

The rest of the night ended up being just as lovely as Jay had thought it would be. All six of the human book club members seemed to like the book, even the two young men from Danny’s work who’d never once had a nice thing to say about romance.

Jay found himself studying those two especially while they all ate and chatted and laughed (Jay didn’t always know what they were laughing about, but he liked joining in anyway).

He found himself wondering about kisses, of all things.

If either of these human men kissed him, would he go all soft and melty like Danny did with Roman?

Jay couldn’t imagine it for some reason.

But then his mind turned to tan, muscled forearms and multicolored eyes. A wide, stern mouth and the prettiest hair in Hyde Park.

And then it turned out it was quite easy to imagine after all.

four

Alexei

Alexeinursedhisthirdrum and coke in half as many hours, trying his best to let the alcohol shake the funk that had settled in over him.

His obsession wasn’t subsiding. Not at all. If anything, it was deepening. Worsening. He couldn’t seem to stay away from that fucking coffee shop. What was more, he’d walked through that goddamn jangling door that morning and Jay hadn’t been at the counter, and Alexei had needed to fight the most inappropriate, gut-wrenching disappointment at that fact.

And obviously Jay wouldn’t be working every single day, but he’d seemed up to that point to basically live at the damn place, and Alexei’s gut—his heart—hadn’t been prepared for his absence.

It had sent Alexei into a sort of…unfortunate spiral.

What the fuck was hedoinghere? Mooning over a little alien barista who waved at every living thing and had zero social awareness, especially when it came to flirting. Who was either incredibly naive or extremely diabolical with the way he had Alexei strung along by his dick without them having even so much as touched a single time.

What was Alexei hoping to accomplish even? Slow seduction via increasingly complicated coffee orders?

And then there was Jay’s friend. Hisfriendfrom the other day.Never before had Alexei been so intimidated by such a pretty face. Not by the prettiness itself. There was just a certain…menace underneath that odd grin. Alexei had spent enough time around the unhinged to recognize it. He could feel it.

And what else could he feel? Fucking jealousy, that was what. Burning in his chest. Because the way Jay had greeted the guy with such a warm, beaming smile? And okay, yes, Jay greetedeveryonewith a warm, beaming smile. But there had been familiarity there; that was for sure. And the guy—Soren—had lingered at the counter. He’dlingered.And he’d made Jay blush, those pale cheeks adorably pink.

What had he been saying to make Jay blush? What did Alexei have to do to have the same effect?

Alexei startled as the bartender appeared in front of him, shaking Alexei’s now drained glass, rattling the remaining ice. “Another?”

Alexie grunted his assent. “Please.”

It was a bad idea. He’d skipped dinner that night, and the drinks he’d consumed already had gone straight to his head. But what did it matter anyway? He was nothing more than a ghost in this town. He had no future, no connections, no purpose other than stalking the poor little barista who’d caught his eye. What did it matter if Alexei got blind drunk tonight? If he got blind drunk every single night? Who the fuck would care?

“No one,” he muttered, glaring at the soggy coaster left in front of him. “Not a one.”

“What was that?” The woman on the barstool next to him leaned in, her voice all husky.

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