Waiting on Life

by Parker Williams

  The patrons went dead silent and no one moved. I went to the guy who’d started complaining and took his order, then got it up for him in a few moments. That started the lines moving. In thanks for people being patient, I handed out a token for a free drink, which made even the surliest of people happy. For this group, “free” was the magic word.

  It took us an hour, and about fifteen more tokens, to get through the mess, but the customers dwindled to a manageable amount, and Cary came over to thank me for coming in. His blond hair was matted with sweat, and his legs shook. I pulled a stool around and had him sit down before he collapsed.

  “I’m sorry,” I muttered. “I should have handled this situation before it became one. I’ll need to hire someone right away and get them trained, so for the next few nights at least, I’ll be here working the bar.”

  “But I was supposed to go home after tonight,” Cary whispered, his eyes downcast, staring at his hands. “I haven’t seen my parents in over a year. Mom was looking forward to it.”

  I remembered how excited he was when he asked about taking a few weeks off to see his relatives in Alabama. He’d told me about his mother’s blue-ribbon winning cobbler and how she guilted him into eating by telling him he was too skinny. Three weeks of being with his family, fishing, hiking, cooking, and eating foods that I’d never even heard of but that sounded delicious. No way could I crush his dreams. Tammy and I had a tight-knit family, but not one that had a passel of kids and grandkids who would be around nearly a month.

  I reached out and tucked a knuckle under his chin, then lifted until our gazes locked. “I know. You’ll go, have a nice time, and come back rested.”

  Cary was too precious for words. He had so much love to give, but he needed to find the right person. The guys at the bar knew my feelings for Cary, and they protected him like he was one of their own. It was funny seeing hardcore gangers giving him a soft smile when he served them, or having a burly biker step up if someone got out of line.

  His eyes were misty. “I can’t leave you alone without help.”

  I cuffed him on the shoulder and gave him the biggest, fakest grin I could manage. “I’ll be fine. You don’t know how many times I did this before you started here. And I’ll get someone in as soon as possible. I’ll call an agency tomorrow and get someone in to start training.”

  If only I could be as certain as I sounded.

  Chapter Two

  Kyle

  By the time Pete got home, I was still a nervous wreck over what happened in the lobby. Pete came through the door, and I pounced.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about our neighbor?”

  He blinked. “What?”

  “Our fucking god of a neighbor. Big guy, bald, and the tattoos I could see made me want to strip him down so I could get a glimpse at the ones he was hiding.” I narrowed my gaze at him. “You’re not interested in him, are you?” I would never poach and hoped to hell Pete wasn’t into the guy.

  “I don’t even know who the hell you’re talking about. Dude, I just got home, and I gotta take a wicked piss. Can I at least get five minutes to take care of that before you’re all over my shit?”

  “So… you’re not interested?”

  He groaned. “No, I’m not. Now, I have to go, okay? Or do you want a puddle forming on the floor? Because, remember, it’s your turn to clean.”

  I had forgotten that. “Go, do whatever. Just make sure you hurry back.”

  “Oh, you know I will,” he said with a fake cheeriness. “You know I live to hear about your boy crushes. Are we going to have hot cocoa and sit around in our robes while we talk about our feelings?”

  “You can be such a sarcastic ass.” I gestured toward the bathroom. “Go, pee.”

  He bowed at the waist. “Thank you, my queen.”

  I hated the fact that I snorted as he hustled off to use the restroom. Pete made me laugh like no one else. It was why he was the perfect roommate. Plus he paid his half of the rent and utilities on time, and had more than once covered me.

  When he came back out of the bathroom, he went and grabbed a couple of Miller Lites from the fridge, then gestured toward the couch. I met him there, and he handed me a bottle.

  “All right, I feel a lot better now. So tell me about this mysterious hottie of yours.”

  The thought of Toby made me shiver. I’d always had a thing for big men, and I loved tattoos. I never thought of bald as particularly sexy, but he rocked it hard.

  “Imagine the perfect man, and once you have that image, forget it, because he blows them all away. He’s got this deep voice, a little paunch, and his muscles have baby muscles of their own. He has these piercing gray eyes, and a beard and mustache that has a sprinkling of gray in it.”

  “Sounds old.”

  “I don’t think he was. I figure him to be about thirty or so.”

  “And you’re twenty-four. You don’t think that’s a gap?”

  “Six years? Please. My parents were ten. Hell, your parents were twelve.”

  Pete reached out and smacked my knee. “And they’re all divorced, dude.”

  “Uh, your father divorced your mom because he wanted to boink his secretary. His male secretary.” I snickered. “Who is now your stepmom.”

  “Stepdad, you ass.” He drained his bottle in one long chug, then leveled a glare at me. “You are a hateful bitch, you know that?” He pointed at my beer bottle. “Want another?”

  “Nah, but thanks. You know me and alcohol.” One beer and I was even more loose-lipped than usual. And somehow my mouth generally got me into trouble. Go figure.

  “So you like this guy?”

  Did I? I mean, he was the ideal image of a man, at least as far as I was concerned, but I knew nothing about him.

  “He’s sexy as fuck, but that’s all I can say. He seemed nice when we were downstairs, but that was a whole five minutes. I’m not picking out china patterns based on a conversation that lasted about the same as your last relationship.”

  “It wasn’t a relationship. It was a hookup. No promises were shared, only some bodily fluid. We didn’t even bother to exchange numbers.” Pete smirked. “Not that I wouldn’t like to see him again. If you had seen the size of his—”

  “Dude, please. I heard you howling. I covered my head with a pillow and still couldn’t blot it out.”

  “Why do you think I wish I had gotten his number? I couldn’t walk straight for two days, and it was the most delicious ache ever.” His eyes shone. “He did this thing with his mouth while he was fucking me and—”

  “Okay, that’s enough. I haven’t gotten laid in… God, eight months. As it stands, a cold shower is on the agenda after seeing Toby and hearing you wax nostalgic.”

  Pete grinned. “Oh? Are you going to jack off thinking about me?”

  “Ew, no!” Okay, I was totally going to jack off. “I’m going to be thinking about Toby and wondering if his cock is equal to his body, all big and thick.”

  Pete gave a wry snort. “With your luck? It’s going to be a micropenis that you can’t even feel.”

  It was unusual for me, because I have to admit, I like guys with big ones, but I found myself not caring if Toby did have a small dick, because he was… different.

  “I like the guy, not what swings between his legs.”

  Pete jumped up and moved away. “I can’t be near you, because a lightning bolt that big would take out half the block.”

  That made me grin. “You’re a nut.”

  “And you’re a goof, but I love you anyway.”

  “Same goes, bro.” I clapped my hands together. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I gotta go yank out a load.”

  He groaned as I sauntered off toward the bathroom, and that made my great night even better.

  Toby

  I dragged my ass into the house at four in the morning. The afternoon and into the night hadn’t gotten any better. For some reason there were a lot more people than normal for a weekday. Not that I was complaining, becau
se it was a good cash sheet, which made the owner happy, and that kept me employed. Still, I would need to hire another bartender and server fast, because with Cary being gone on vacation, running the bar alone would suck sweaty balls. I reached out to Hank Jeffords, the owner, but in his words, he was very hands-off, and that’s what he paid me for. So, the headache was mine.

  That would be something to think on tomorrow. I’d been up far too long without any sleep, and if I didn’t get a few hours now, I wouldn’t make it in for opening in… shit, three hours. I stripped off my clothes and tossed them onto the pile to be washed later in the week, assuming I found time. Though I wanted bed more than anything, I needed to get clean. I was rank, even to myself.

  It was a supreme effort to get into the shower. Every muscle ached from carrying cases of beer and kegs for the tapper, and running to the storeroom for more limes. The whole night had been one of continuous motion, and I was dead on my feet. Even the water beating down on my battered body didn’t help. Nothing short of about thirty-six hours of sleep would. But, since that wasn’t likely to happen any time soon, I had to hope it would at least make me hurt less in the morning.

  After the world’s most useless shower, I shuffled off to the bedroom, looking forward to climbing in. Of course, I found out my bed was already occupied.

  Waldo was sleeping on my pillow, and the ungrateful bastard didn’t even bother to look to make sure I wasn’t a robber. Wait until he saw his half-portion of food tomorrow. That’d teach him who the boss was. Of course, Waldo already knew it was him, but it made me feel better to think I had a little control in my life.

  “Get off my pillow, you treacherous bastard,” I growled.

  He opened one eye, peered at me, yawned, and then went back to sleep.

  I didn’t have the energy to fight for a space, so I grabbed a blanket from the closet. “Fine, the couch is comfortable too.”

  I stormed into the living room and put lie to my words. The couch was lumpy and the middle cushion sagged. I’d found it alongside the road, and since it was better than what I’d had at the time, I lugged it home and, because the elevator wasn’t big enough, hauled it up six flights of stairs. The only way this couch was leaving would be out the window.

  I lay down and dragged the blanket over me. It didn’t take but a few moments for me to drift off. Of course, anyone who has ever been owned by a cat would know what happened next. Waldo jumped on top of me, then kneaded my chest until he was satisfied, and afterward he curled into a ball, his head tucked under my chin. I hated that I loved it so much. Reaching up, I rubbed a knuckle over his head.

  “Love you too, you pain in the ass.”

  And that was how I woke up in the morning too.

  Waldo protested when I nudged him down onto the floor. He made to scramble back up to his perch, but I moved faster.

  “Sorry, but I need to get ready for work.” I knelt down and stroked a hand over his head, delighting in the purr. “You’re going to have to be patient with me for a while, okay? I need to work some extra hours until I can hire someone and—”

  A whiny yowl, my usual cue to serve his majesty’s food.

  I stood, doing my best to ignore the aches in my back, and went to give him his morning kibble. I thought about my threat of a few hours ago to only give him a half-portion, but when I looked down into those pleading eyes, I lost my resolve.

  “You’re so fucking lucky you’re cute,” I grumbled as I put down his bowl with a little extra food. “Be good today. Get your pipes ready, because I’m going to be very late tonight, so you can be prepared to jump me when I get home.”

  Of course, he ignored me, instead intent on his food. That was fine. He had been way too skinny when I found him, and the vet said she was sure I’d love him back to a healthy weight. She must have been psychic.

  I dressed quickly, then slipped out the door. As I locked mine, from behind Kyle’s door came the beat of Joan Jett and the Blackhearts singing about how much they loved rock and roll. My estimation of Kyle went up a few more notches—he had good taste in music. Just before I headed for the elevator, the door opened up and a man stepped out. He was about six foot and clean-cut, with dark mussed hair and pale blue eyes. For some reason I was disappointed.

  “Oh, let me guess. You’re Toby.”

  That surprised me. “Yeah, and you are?”

  He held out a hand. His grip was firm, but not one of those where they tried to show you they were the alpha dog. “Pete Jenkins. I’m Kyle’s roommate.”

  That niggle of disappointment evaporated when I discovered that the guy wasn’t a hookup, but a friend. Of course, who’s to say he couldn’t be both? And why the hell did I care? Kyle could do whatever—whoever—he wanted to.

  His gaze rolled over me, and I felt like a bug in a jar. “I can see what Kyle meant.”

  My stomach ached to know that Kyle had been talking about me. After the way he was looking when the elevator closed, I’m sure I was in for that nose-in-the-air look so many people thought they could give me. Well, not today, Satan.

  “Yeah, well, whatever. I have to go.”

  I turned and stormed down the hall, all twisted up in knots. Why did I care? I didn’t know Kyle, and I doubted I’d be seeing much of him in the future. And plus, he was a he, for fuck’s sake. I wasn’t into dick. Hell, if I had to label myself, I’d say lesbian, because I was totally into women. And I had said that to my sister once, and the cold shoulder I got made sure I never said it again. Still, dick never did a thing for me, and I wasn’t into guys, so it was best to put Kyle out of my head and look forward to the day ahead.

  I’m sure it would be fun.

  Kyle

  The day hadn’t gone well. Several hours spent sending out applications, following up on ones I’d mailed previously, and still no closer to finding a job. For Pete to tell me he’d met Toby and told him what I’d said? That was a helping of chocolate sauce on the shit sundae that my life was in danger of turning into.

  “You did what?” Oh God, I was so mortified. “I can’t believe you.”

  Pete waved a hand. “Please, like you wouldn’t have blurted it out the next time you saw him. What was it you said to Jarod Hendricks that day we all got together to study? Oh, I remember. I believe your exact words were, ‘Hey, you’re sexy. Wanna come back to my place and I can show you where my hot spots are so you can find them easily? Your fingers won’t be able to reach, so plan on using your cock.’” Pete arched a brow. “That was you, right?”

  That was so not the point here. Yes, I’d done some really slutty things in the past, but I would never have said something like that to Toby. Even if I wanted to show him how flexible I was and how I could pleasure not only myself, but him too.

  “I can’t believe you,” I repeated, mostly because I was at a loss for what else to say.

  Pete at least had the decency to seem shocked. “Me? What did I do?”

  I snorted. “And you say I have no tact. Now what the hell does he think I was saying about him? Please tell me you said something beyond that.”

  Pete squirmed a bit. “He stormed away before I could.”

  I threw my hands up in the air. “Well, that’s just fucking great. Now he’s going to think I’m either a freak, an asshole, or some kind of weirdo.”

  “Maybe a bit of all three?” Pete winked, but I didn’t so much as crack a smile. “Look, I’m sorry. He was leaving as I was, and I didn’t know what else to say to him. If it means anything, you’re right. He’s kinda sexy. Not my type, but I could see you sitting on his face.”

  A groan slid out of me at the thoughts of Toby tonguing my hole. The thought of being rimmed, and with his facial hair tickling all the right spots? Aw, man. Still, that didn’t get asshole Pete off the hook.

  “That was so damned rude. You’re supposed to be the nice one, the guy who keeps me under control.”

  The thought of what Toby had going through his head made my chest ache. True, I scarcely knew him, but he
was different from the guys I normally talked with. They were all about getting in, getting off, and getting out. They normally didn’t care what gender it was, as long as they got their dicks wet. I couldn’t explain why, but I wanted Toby to see me differently. Not the flighty slut people took me for. Sure, I’d done some morally questionable acts in the past, and I knew I was never going to be as smart as Pete—present circumstances notwithstanding—but I wasn’t stupid, and I worked hard to overcome that images.

  “Why are you so twisted up about this guy?” Pete asked, soothing a hand over my back.

  I had no answer that didn’t involve Toby’s physicality. He was hot, but there seemed to be more to him. He had hopes and dreams. He wanted a farm, for goodness sake. Every guy I’d ever met wanted a rub and tug, then to get as far away as fast as possible. Was it wrong that I hoped Toby wasn’t like that? I wanted to get to know him, to peel back those layers and find the man who hid underneath.

  “He’s the first nice guy I’ve met in a long time.” I repeated the story about the mailbox and how concerned Toby had been with me being okay. “And though it was a short conversation, we talked. He didn’t leer at me and mention my cocksucker lips or anything like that.”

  “To be fair—”

  “Shut up. Let me have this, okay?” I pleaded. “I know I’ve been less than picky about who I had sex with in the past, so until I learn otherwise, let me put Toby in the nice guy box, yeah?”

  “Okay. I’m sorry, Kyle. I didn’t mean to make things awkward for you. I hope you believe me.”

  Of course I did. I might get my nose out of joint—another of Dad’s sayings—but Pete always had my back.

  “You know I do.”

  I turned and fell into his arms, happy when he tightened them around me. Pete was the only guy I knew who had no problem with real, honest-to-goodness affection. He hugged and kissed freely, be it me or any of our friends—guys and girls. He wasn’t shy or inhibited in any way. He thought that showing your friends you cared was a good thing, and seeing as how often I was the recipient of his kind and giving nature, I had no problems with it.