Page 6 of Jamie
“Ican’t do this. I’m insane. Why would I do this?” James stood at the corner, staring into the coffee shop. He worked as a barista and went home and worked on his novel. That was it.
That was all.
He didn’t risk being recognized, he didn’t risk relationships, and he didn’t do stupid shit.
He could see the group he was supposed to join through the window, all laughing, happy.
He stood there, just caught. Stuck.
Then the dark-haired man with those brown eyes looked up, stared at him. So fucking intense.
Then the man smiled and jerked his head, the invitation to come over there clear.
“Dammit.” Now he’d seem like an asshole if he walked away. He crossed the street, letting his hair obscure his face.
The dark-haired man stood as he went in and came over to them. “Please, have a seat.”
“Hi. I just… didn’t want anyone waiting on me.” He wanted to go home. He’d already made a fool out of himself.
“We haven’t minded a bit,” the man told him. “We’re all having a good time chatting.” Then he held out his hand. “I’m Silas.”
Right, the Silas with an s at each end from earlier. He should have remembered the name. He blamed it on the accident. And he’d remember now. “James. Pleased. I’m sorry about the spill earlier.” It was obvious Silas and the silver-haired stud were lovers.
“You’ve already apologized, and I think we can put it behind us, eh, Bran?” Silas looked at the silver fox, one eyebrow raised.
“It was an accident. Sorry for yelling. You startled me.”
“Yeah. Ditto.”
Silas made a noise that might have been a snort, and his lips twisted, but he didn’t actually laugh. “So tell us about yourself, Jamie.”
He wasn’t a Jamie. He was a James. “I sling coffee. That’s really it.” Nothing else was up for public consumption.
“Right.” Oh, the silver fox had a great voice when he wasn’t yelling. Even if he was being snarky.
“There’s nothing wrong with a little mystery,” Silas noted. “We’re glad you came out for taco night.”
“Well, I can’t stay long, but you all were so nice…” And he was so lonely.
“Is everyone ready to go?” One of the other men asked—Jerusalem, he thought, thinking back to the orders from earlier.
There was a chorus of “yes!” and “tacos!” and they all got up, laughing and excited.
He dropped back behind the group, because he could hide here, stay out of sight. Silas and Bran both dropped back with him, one coming up on each side. So much for hiding.
Dammit.
He followed, gaze on the guy in front of him. He should have worn long sleeves to hide his ink… what if someone recognized it?
“You don’t have to be nervous,” Silas told him. “This is a friendly group—all of us, not just Chrissy.”
“I’m sorry. You all seem very kind. I’m just a little shy.” Ha. He was just tired of being recognized and having to move.
“We can work with shy,” Silas told him, giving him a wink.
Was the guy flirting with him?
No. No way. Pretty was totally with Mr. Scary. Totally.
