Page 5 of A Minute More

“Hey, you okay?” I ask, watching as he strides toward me, his shoulders squared, his eyes everywhere but me. Not that I shouldn’t be used to it by now. It seems to be his thing when it comes to me. I know for a fact he looks at Izzy and Jude, but when it comes to me, he always shifts his gaze away.

Maybe I’ve offended him or something? Maybe he doesn’t like how I look in general. I’m at a loss here. I can’t quite figure out what I’ve done wrong.

“Yes,” he replies and then moves past me to the door, holding it open for me.

I don’t know what to do, so I stroll inside, finding a man named Brian behind the counter and explaining our situation. I’m friendly and smile a lot while Simon stares at the far wall, peeking over at me occasionally, but never lingering on me for too long.

I don’t fucking get him. I honestly don’t fucking get it.

“Yeah, we can take care of that for you. Where’s the car?” Brian asks, smiling at me happily. He must really love his job.

I flap my hand toward the parking lot, and Brian bobs his head.

“Cool, I’ve got it. We’ll take care of that right away.”

I beam at Simon who is studiously studying the air fresheners hanging on a rack.

“Yeah, so…want me to stick around? Seems like they’ll do it for you and I don’t need to…”

He glances up at me and then back at the rack before him. “No. I’m fine.”

I shuffle next to him, pick up an air freshener, smell it, and then quickly put it back on the rack. Smells like ass. Don’t want that wafting through the vents.

Wonder what Simon’s ass smells like…

I shake my head, that thought coming up from nowhere. I don’t know what’s wrong with my brain, but there’s something going on.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind.”

“I’m fine, Wesley.”

The way he says my name makes something unfurl in my stomach. Jitters pulse through me, and I find myself shivering slightly.

“No one calls me Wesley but my grandma.”

He wets his lips and then moves past me, brushing against my arm again as he hands the man behind the counter his credit card.

I don’t really want to leave, if I’m being honest. I kind of want to stay, to make sure everything works out and he gets home alright.

But the dude obviously doesn’t want me to hang around, so I bob my head and make my exit. He doesn’t even say goodbye.

Yeah, he’ll be fine, I’m sure. I don’t need to linger around and wait. He’s not my friend. We barely even know each other.

With that thought, I make my way home.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, I arrive back at the two-story house I share with a few other guys I graduated with. We were all roommates in college and it seems that even with a degree you can’t afford to live on your own. Even in Iowa. So here I am, shacking up with a bunch of my best friends. Maybe not ideal when it comes to privacy, but it keeps me from having to move back in with my mom and my sister.

I’d have even less privacy there.

“Why you late?” Jude asks me, sitting on the couch, an entire pizza box in his lap. The guy eats like a garbage disposal. I’ve seen him put down an entire extra-large pizza without even burping. It was impressive. And I swear, I don’t know where he puts it. His metabolism is out of this world. Maybe it has something to do with his red hair. Maybe those gingers are magical.

“Simon had a dead battery so I jumped…uh…I jumped his car and made sure he got to AutoTime.”

Jude stops, a piece of pizza halfway to his mouth. “The fuck?”

Shrugging, I say, “I mean, I couldn’t just leave him there.”

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