Page 5 of Starfish and Coffee
He turned to walk back to the kitchen, hardly seeing Holly who had been lingering in the corner, eavesdropping the whole time. Her eyes were wide, silently communicating her shock. Alex’s legs were shaky, and his thoughts about anything but Matt scattered in a million different directions. It’d be a small miracle if he managed to make it through the rest of the day without screwing up every order that came into the kitchen.
Alex still wanted him. He ached in a way he thought he never would again, and his eyes stung because more than anything he had forgotten how deeply he loved Matt and how profoundly he had missed him.
Chapter Two
The starfish doughnuts were good, but Matt rarely ate anything fried. He could hear his personal trainer’s voice in the back of his mind screeching about the grease, to say nothing of all the sugar.
“Coffee, hon?”
Matt continued to dust the sugar off the doughy starfish without looking at the waitress. His fingers shook as the anxiety he was trying so desperately to hide refused to be ignored. He felt the heat of nervousness and embarrassment stain his cheeks.
“I don’t drink coffee.” He glanced up to see the pretty waitress pulling a face as he worked at cleaning the sugar off his doughnut. “Water’s fine, Fiji if you have it.”
“Okay,” she said slowly, giving him a baffled look before she turned around.
The restaurant was busting at the seams. People stood at the counter waiting for to-go orders. Holly’s fingers flew over the keys of the register. Quick and efficient as he remembered, she shoved the drawer closed with her hip as she reached over and answered the phone, balancing it between her shoulder and ear. She grabbed a ticket from a woman waiting and started working the register again.
“Eyes off the goods. Friend or not, you know Alex would poison your food for messing with his girl.”
Matt took his eyes off Holly, seeing George standing in front of him. “Hi, George.” He dropped the doughnut back into the basket and wiped his hand on the napkin. “Have a seat.”
“Nah, we’re taking off.”
George tilted his head toward Daryl and Brandon. Matt never knew any of them that well, but he wasn’t opposed to the distraction of company and was genuinely disappointed they were leaving.
George grimaced at Matt’s basket of doughnuts. “What’d you do to those starfish, boy?”
“My personal trainer has me off sugar.”
George arched an eyebrow, and he took an unconscious step back. The mix of snowbirds and town locals in Mirabella created a very real social gap; one George and Matt were on opposing sides of. Their shared friendship with Alex only bridged so much, and Matt winced, finding that he had been living in the highbrow world of corporate Atlanta too long. He had forgotten how to blend.
“It’s bad for your metabolism,” Matt explained.
“If you say so.” George took another step backward and gestured to his friends who were also inching toward the door. “We’ll see ya later, Matt. Try to get Alex out from under Holly and meet us for a few beers.”
He waved them off, thinking that if he could get Alex out, it wouldn’t be for beers with George. Needing the distraction against more carnal thoughts of Alex when he was here to find answers and nothing more, Matt looked back to Holly who had abandoned the register.
Glass in hand, Holly stopped in front of his table and set the red plastic glass in front of him. “Darleen has no idea how you expect her to get water from Fiji.”
“It’s a brand,” Matt explained.
“I know that.” Holly gave him a generous smile and pointed to the glass of water. “It’s the best Mirabella has to offer.”
“Right.” Matt pushed down the urge to look at the water in distaste. “Knowing firsthand the best Mirabella has to offer, I’d like to respectfully request any type of bottled water.”
“We don’t sell bottled water.” Holly helped herself to the other side of his booth, sliding in and then leaning her arms against the table. “Do you know how many water bottles end up in landfills every year?”
He winced, very afraid Holly had an actual number. “How many?”
“Enough to make serving bottled water a crime against nature.” Holly reached over and pushed the glass toward him. “This isn’t Frank’s. We have a really good filtration system. The water is fine. I promise.”
Matt avoided her eyes as he pulled the glass toward him. He made distracted work of opening the straw. Worse than her knowing, he could feel Holly’s pity as she studied him.
“Do you own this place with Alex?” he finally asked to fill the uncomfortable silence.
“Nope, just work here. I’m not masochistic enough to want to own a restaurant. Working in one is bad enough.”
“You’re good at it though.”
