Page 1 of Nothing To Lose
PROLOGUE- ISAAC
It’s surprisingly busy when I enterThe Nook. They rarely have a wait at this time of night, less than an hour from closing. Brenna, the owner's daughter, notices me standing at the back of the line, bewildered by the amount of people in the small space. She smiles and gestures to a sign that says, "Open Mic Night at The Nook". Ah, okay. That makes sense. I haven't been around long enough to actually witness one ofThe Nook'sevents, aside from the drag brunch I walked in on about a month ago when I first started coming here. That was another busy day, and I stuck around to watch the show for a while. That was the day I met the owners, Mac and Anders, and introduced myself as one of their new neighbors. I'd just leased a building only a block away, and since then, I've been a regular, especially since they insist on giving me a deep discount, making eating here cheap enough that I'm here a few times a week. It's good, healthy food and I've felt more welcomed in this little cafe than anywhere else I've been since moving into town.
By the time I make it to the register to order, Brenna is already holding up a bag.
"Dad saw you come in, and told Pops to make you something good," she says with a wide smile. "It's a California burrito, no pico since you don't like cilantro, and a side of cut fruit. That okay?"
"Sounds amazing," I say, my stomach already growling. "I got busy with the renovations today and forgot to eat lunch."
"Hmmm. I think you might need some pumpkin bread too, then." She grabs three slices from the display case and wraps them before adding them to my bag, even though I already paid. I shake my head, but thank her and wave to Anders, who works the front of the house. "Give Mac my thanks as well," I tell Brenna, bending to let her kiss my cheek the way she always does.
"Don't look now, but your cutie is here," she whispers.
I immediately straighten and follow her line of sight when she pointedly looks to my left. It doesn't take more than a second to find him in the crowd, thanks to Anders not so discreetly standing behind him and pointing excitedly. My " café cutie," as Brenna likes to call him, is sitting at a small two-person table towards the back of the room. I can't see who he's sitting with, but he looks uncomfortable.
"I think he might be on a date," Brenna whisper-yells. "Or maybe it's a job interview. Either way, it doesn't look like it's going well."
A date? Part of me deflates, as if I have any right to be disappointed about a guy I've never even spoken to being on a date. Hell, I've only seen him around here a handful of times since the day I literally collided with him. There was something about the shy way he looked up at me, the flush on his cheeks, and the little squeak noise he made that struck me as adorable. I've never been a big talker, but I couldn't seem to find any words at all. It was like my tongue swelled up in my mouth and I basically stood there like an idiot while he made an unintelligible apology for spilling his drink on me before running away. Brenna said I probably scared him off with my resting bitch face, and she's probably right. I'm a nice guy, but I tend to come off a bit gruff. Especially when I'm struck speechless by a random stranger with deep blue-green eyes and a blush that did things to my stomach.
In the handful of times I've seen him since, I've tried to make myself look friendlier by smiling when we've caught each other's eye, but by the way he always looks away so quickly, it's clear he isn't interested. Either he's put off by my overall demeanor, isn't interested in guys, or just isn't interested in me—which might be the case considering his date is definitely a dude. At least, I think it’s a date.
From what I've observed, my café cutie is a bit preppy. His clothes, shoes, and the messenger bag he carries are all expensive-looking. His overall style is very clean cut and preppy, whereas I'm… not. I look down at my paint-splattered jeans and the wrinkled hoodie I pulled over my equally grimy shirt. My work boots are worn, and the backwards ball cap on my head is frayed. Compared to the guy sitting across from him, I'm not in his league. Even facing away from me, I can tell from the set of his shoulders and the huge, expensive watch he's wearing that he doesn't have to rely on charity from nearby businesses to stay fed.
I make a neck cutting motion with my hand to signal for Anders to stop his not-so-subtle gesturing, but he's apparently having too much fun being a meddlesome neighbor, and it gets the date's attention. He looks over his shoulder. I quickly avert my attention back to Brenna, but not before I get a flash of an upturned nose and condescending sneer.
"That guy is on his third beer, and they haven't even gotten their food yet," she says, eyeing the guy with a frown.
"Stop staring at them like that!" I laugh.
Brenna ignores me, sending more daggers towards the table before looking back at me and pouting. "Poor Tyler doesn't seem to be enjoying himself."
"Tyler?"
She gives me a knowing smirk, and I wonder how long she's been sitting on his name. Then again, this is the first time I've all but admitted my interest, considering the way I'm staring and my reaction to hearing his name. I didn't think I was being obvious in my curiosity about the preppy guy who soaked my shirt in iced chai and now blatantly avoids me, but Brenna and her dads are perceptive, and apparently meddlesome. Maybe they don't have enough to do. I don't know why else they'd be so interested in a non-existent connection between me and a guy that won't even make eye contact with me.
Risking another glance, the pretentious prick has turned back around, but another set of eyes is looking my way. For the first time since we locked eyes over a spilled drink, he doesn't look away immediately.
Feeling brazen by having his attention now that I know his name, I quirk an eyebrow at Tyler and give him a smirk that I hope reads as friendly and not judgmental, even though I can't help thinking,really? That guy?
Is that the kind of guy he's into? Maybe it's wishful thinking, but Brenna's right. He doesn’t seem like he’s having a good time. For once, he doesn't look away immediately, and I think his lips quirk into an almost-grin. Tyler snaps his gaze from mine when the guy suddenly whips around. I turn back towards the counter, but in my periphery, I see him reach across the table to touch his date's arm.
Yeah, I'm pathetic. At least I didn't wink at him, or something equally cringey.
"See you," I tell Brenna, and wave to a dramatically sulking Anders. Without looking back at Tyler or his date, I make a beeline for the door.
* * *
The music blaringthrough my speakers cuts off, the sound of my phone ringing replacing the grungy sound of a guitar riff.
The phone’s computer voice alerts me that, “Mom is calling.”
Straining to hold up the sheet of drywall I'm working on, I yell at my phone's voice controlled assistant feature to answer.
"Hey Asshole!" I yell, using the name I gave the mostly useless AI assistant. "Answer!"
Finally, just when I think I'm going to miss her call, it connects.
"Hey, Ma! Hold on a sec," I call out, stretching to keep the wall in place while taking a large screw from between my lips. Fitting the screw into the notch I pre-drilled to help keep the screws steady with one hand, I reach for my drill. The angle is awkward, but I'm able to secure enough screws that the drywall stays in place. Once I'm satisfied it won't come down, I brush my hands off and walk over to my makeshift worktable to pick up my phone.
