* * *
More than halfof Easter Sunday passed before Brian finally got all of the next week’s schedule worked out. Lots of customers clamoring for coffee, plus firing Ethan had certainly thrown a wrench into everything—he was covering more than he wanted to. Again, but at least he could text Rob to let him know when he was free.
After making drinks, he leaned against the counter and pondered the screen of his phone. A tightness in his chest and an ache in his balls. Time to admit that he had onehellof a crush on Rob.
Was he even allowed to have crushes at thirty-eight? Staring at Rob’s number on his phone, he felt fifteen again and calling the first girl he ever asked out on a date.
Whynow? He’d ignored his desire for men for so long. Not flirting, not dating, notanything. He had no time for a relationship—yet here he was, in the first steps of that dance.
Anita, his last girlfriend, would be laughing so hard right now if she knew. Not at him dating a guy—but contemplating dating at all.
I care about you, Bri. You’re a great guy. You’re also fucking married to that shop of yours.
True. Above anything else, he had a responsibility to his employees and the shop. He shouldn’t be flirting withanyone. Or making plans to meet up.
But Rob did things to his head that no one else—man or woman—ever had. It wasn’t entirely lust, either—though certainly that was there.
Someone he could banter with. Someone he could talk to.
The screen went dark, a fine indication that he was overthinking. He unlocked the phone and typed in a text.
Hey, I’m working every night except Friday, if you want to stop by with your photos.
He jabbed send before he got cold feet. There. He’d figure out what he was doing later, probably after he’d done it.Or Rob.
That thought went straight to his dick and balls. Yeah, he wanted those fingers touching him, that mouth on his, and to find out whereelseRob had freckles.
Good thing the shop bell rang, because if he thought about Rob much longer, he’d not be safe for work.
After he shoved the phone in his pocket, he greeted the customer—one of his regulars who came in to grade papers—poured her a simple cup of coffee, and settled in to wait for a reply from Rob.
If Rob had taken his advice about hiking, he might not have a great cell signal. Really depended on where in Settler’s Cabin he was.
Nearly two hours later, his phone buzzed. He jumped in the process of trying out some coffee art on a cappuccino, but somehow, his leaf didn’t look that sad. He slid the drink over to one of his more recent regulars—a freshman at Pitt—and she beamed at him.
“How do you learn to do that?”
“Would you believe, videos on the web?”
“Aren’t you too old for the Internet?” She took the drink and gave him an innocent smile he didn’t believe for one second.
“Hey, have respect for your elders!”
She laughed and went to claim a seat by the front window. Homework, probably. Or reading.
Brian dug his phone out. Yes, a text from Rob. He couldn’t help grinning.
Can stop by any night. But does no work on Friday night mean you’re free?
It did. He hadn’t wanted to be presumptuous. Trust Rob to notice. He seemed to noticeeverything.Yeah, I’ve no plans for Friday night.
The reply came back almost immediately.Now you do.
He bit his lip and his jeans were back to feeling too snug.Shift ends at 6.
I’ll be there, photos in hand.
Can’t wait.