Page 98 of Daily Grind
He rolled that around in his head. “I— Maybe I should ask him about that sometime.” Len kept things close to his chest. Out of all of them, he was the most reserved, despite the wild side.
Brian closed his eyes and breathed in the mingled scents of Rob’s house, Rob, and the traces of his parents’ place that still clung to Rob’s clothing. “The only bad thing about dinners like that is all I want to do is sleep.”
Rob’s chuckle rocked their bodies. “Same.” He caressed Brian’s shoulder. “Do you want to stay here or go upstairs?”
“Bed sounds wonderful, if you don’t mind me disappointing you.”
Rob snorted, and leaned over to kiss him on the head. “Being with you is never a disappointment. Nor is sleeping next to you, or waking up to your smile.”
His throat tightened and he pushed himself off Rob’s lap.
“I adore sex with you,” Rob said. “But I also adoreyou. Not every night needs to end in orgasms.” He climbed to his feet.
Brian rose. “Well, that’s good.” He wanted to be more than just a bed partner. “Though, Ilikethe orgasms.”
Rob took his hand and drew him toward the stairs. “There’s always tomorrow morning.”
Yes, there was. With any luck, there’d be truckloads of tomorrow mornings in their future.
Chapter Eighteen
Brian letthe cell phone fall to his chest and blinked at the ceiling of his apartment. He was ready to bike down to the Allegheny River and heave his phone into the water, just as soon as he crawled out of bed and could see straight.
Miranda, who had a shift this morning, couldn’t make it. Her grandmom had been taken to the hospital overnight and Miranda was still there. God, Brian understood. Family was the most important thing.
But he’d also worked every day for the past three days and not the usual six-hour shifts—literally the entire day—all twelve-plus hours. Just him, even during the busiest times. Everyone was either sick or out of town or in the middle of some fucking crisis. A perfect storm of shit descending on the shop. Seemed like it had been that way since his last day off—the day he’d taken Rob to his parents a week ago. Two weeks ago? He wasn’t even sure what day it was. Phone read Wednesday.
Today wassupposedto have been his morning off.
Time to stop moping and haul his sorry ass into the shower. He had about twenty minutes to make it to the shop and get it opened. Ideally, he should’ve been there by now, but nothing recently had beenideal.
After the world’s fastest shower, he headed down to Grounds N’at. Didn’t even bother shaving—he could get away with a day’s worth of scruff. Somehow, he managed to get the store ready and unlocked right before eight. He quickly downed three shots of espresso.
A watery Americano wouldn’t cut it today.
Fuck, he wastired. Bone-weary. Not enough sleep, too much caffeine, and too many hours on his feet. He’d had no time to figure out what he needed to cut from the menu now that prices were up—and the comfortable cushion of cash he’d set aside dwindled each week.
Sales were down, too.
On top of everything else, he missed Rob horribly. They’d texted and talked on the phone, and Rob had stopped in a few days earlier, but they hadn’t spent any quality time together since they’d had dinner with his folks. The shop had beennuts, between scheduling conflicts and trying to finish Lamont’s and Rich’s training so they could work on their own.
Beth was up to speed, which was good, but he didn’t feel comfortable about handing her a key to the store yet—he’d done that too soon with Ethan, and look where that had gotten them. Of course losing Vance had also driven him to this point, too.
Regardless, either Mark, Miranda, or he had to open and close the shop.
Right now? It was mostly him. Fitting punishment for his fuckups, but it meant he had hardly any time for Rob.
Sometimes, Rob would pick him up and spend the night, but lately he hadn’t had the energy for anything other than falling asleep. Even mornings weren’t great—everything hurt and he always wanted five more minutes of sleep before he had to slog into the shop and start the day again.
The worst part was watching Rob’s smiles go from honest to pained. He’d seen that with Anita, too, when the shop had swallowed him whole.
Seeing Rob hurt was a kick to the ribs. Especially when he hadn’t any fucking clue what to do to fix it. He’d tried everything.
The shop bell rang and he resisted scrubbing his face with his clean hands.
Eli and Justin, thank goodness. He could be less bright and chipper for them. He got started on Eli’s drink. Justin ordered something different every time.
Both men wore frowns. Justin tipped his head. “I thought you had off this morning?”
