Waiting on Life

by Parker Williams

  As I drifted off, my thoughts turned to Kyle. It was nice that he worried enough to call, and it felt good to talk with him. He was the first person in a long time who cared, and that warmed my heart. My last thought as I drifted off to sleep was why I cared so much about whether or not Kyle liked me.

  The morning was heralded by rain pelting the windows and rolling thunder. It was one of those days that were made for lounging about with a cup of hot cocoa, a good book, and a purring cat filling your lap. Sadly, I had a pretty pile of laundry that I needed to deal with. I got up, started a pot of coffee, then went around the apartment grabbing any articles of clothing that might have been taken off and discarded in a hurry to get a few hours of sleep. By the time the coffee was done, I was ready to go. As I sipped my first lifesaving cup—because anyone who talked to me before it was taking their lives in their own hands—I picked through the mounds of clothes and sorted them into whites and darks. While drinking the ambrosia, I let my gaze drift around the apartment, looking for things that needed to be done by tonight. Floors needed to be swept because there was evidence of Waldo everywhere. I should—

  The knock at the door startled me. I got up to open it and found Kyle standing there, a red-and-white country-style plate in his hand.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “Just figuring out what I need to do today.” I nodded at the plate. “What’s that?”

  He smiled broadly. “I thought you might like some breakfast. I mean, I could be wrong, but has your grocery situation improved since the last time I was here?

  Mental note: Go shopping.

  “That’s what I thought.” He held out the plate, which was loaded with pancakes, sausage, and scrambled eggs. “Eat. I have to get to work.”

  I took the plate from him, and a strange flutter went through my stomach as I peered into his soulful brown eyes. They twinkled beneath the lights in the hall.

  “Did you want to come in?” I asked, stepping back to allow him to enter.

  He shook his head. “Would love too, but I need to get to work. My boss is a real hardass, you know.”

  “You… have time, if you want to talk for a bit.” As weird as it sounded, I desperately wanted him to sit and talk while I ate. “Please? I promise to square things with your boss if he gives you any crap.”

  He frowned, his forehead crinkling, and gestured toward the elevator. “I really should—”

  “Please?” I wanted his company far more than was logical. My whole adult life, my goal had been my farm. Now? I wanted to sit down with Kyle and talk to him as I ate my breakfast that he prepared. Something was seriously screwed up in my head, and I needed to figure out what.

  “Well… I suppose I could stay a few minutes. I’ll have to figure out the next bus, though.”

  “Don’t worry. As soon as we’re done, I’ll drive you to work.”

  He frowned. “Why? Stay here—I can take the bus.”

  “Because you’re doing me a favor,” I replied. “Besides, you need to take the plate back to your place, right?”

  He nodded, but it seemed off. “Sure, I guess.”

  Waldo took that moment to run to the door. He sat, peered up at Kyle, and let out a loud, low mew.

  Kyle brightened. He knelt down and stroked Waldo under the chin. “Good morning, beautiful.”

  Another mew, this one punctuated by Waldo rolling onto his back, his feet wiggling in the air.

  Kyle laughed. It was warm and rich and… I shook my head.

  “No, I’m not buying for a second that he’s starving you, so drop the act.”

  In a moment, Waldo was on his feet, chuffing at Kyle. Then he turned, flipped his tail up, and dashed off.

  “I love your cat. He’s got such an ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude.”

  “He’s a weirdo, but he’s my weirdo. It’s gotten to the point where I have problems sleeping if he’s not beside or on top of me.” I loved that cat more than I could possibly say. “Do you want some coffee? Just made a pot.”

  Kyle stood and I peered into his eyes. They were so pretty, and so unique on a redhead.

  “Do you wear contacts?” I asked.

  He chuckled. “Nope, these are my eyes. They’re crazy, right?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I’ve never seen anything like them, but then again, I’ve never met anyone like you, so it kinda works out.”

  His cheeks pinked. “Thank you. I think.”

  He came into the apartment, and I shut the door. It seemed a hundred times lighter than it had before he came over. As he sat, I went into the drawer and took out a fork—one of the last three. Wash dishes was added to my ever-growing list. I took a seat across from him and dug in. The pancakes were light and fluffy, the sausage was moist and had just the right amount of spice, and the eggs were amazing, having cheese melted in them.

  “So good. I wish I could cook like this.”

  Kyle grinned. “It’s all vegan.”

  I squinted at him. “Say what?”

  He laughed. “Pete’s vegan, and all this stuff is his.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Kyle held up a hand. “Swear to God.”

  I always thought of rabbit pellets when anyone mentioned vegan food, but this was damned tasty. No way was I going to let my natural distrust of vegans color my perception of what Kyle made for me. “My compliments to Pete. This is delicious.”

  “I’ll be sure to let him know.”

  Kyle glanced toward the kitchen, then back with a heavy sigh. “I need to go. I don’t want to be late.”

  “Give me a second, and I’ll finish up.”

  “But….” Kyle stood. “I can make it on my own. Thanks for the offer, though.”

  “It’s no problem. Just—”

  “I’ll talk to you later,” he said, then rushed out the door, leaving me to wonder what the hell I’d said or done.

  Kyle

  I sat at the bus stop, the memory of what had just happened pinging through my brain. I didn’t understand it at all. Toby was straight, I was certain, yet the way he was looking at me, the way he smiled… it confused the hell out of me. I’d never had anyone I was with make me feel that way, and it was messing with my head.

  When the bus pulled up, I stood. With a deep breath, I boarded, then took a seat near the middle. It was only a fifteen-minute drive to work, and in that time, I came up with no less than a dozen scenarios trying to justify what I’d witnessed. It had to be that I was seeing what I wanted, and not what really happened. It took a bit, but I convinced myself I was reading too much into the situation.

  The bus came to a stop a block north of No Angels, and I got off, turning to head to my first real day of work, where I wouldn’t have anyone watching me over my shoulder. I had a mix of emotions about that, because if I screwed up…. No, I couldn’t think about that. I would go in, do my job well, and get home without any issues. At least I hoped.

  Though the pavement was still wet, the day had turned nice, with temperatures in the upper sixties and a slight breeze coming in from the lake, but there were more storm clouds rolling in, and the sky to the east was becoming a dark, hazy blue that reminded me of… I swallowed. I had to get Toby out of my head, because if I couldn’t pull it together, I was likely to say something that would get me fired, punched, or make it so I lost a friend. None of which appealed to me.

  When I got to the bar, I pulled the door open and stepped inside. There were only a few people in the place now, likely those who’d gotten off work not long ago. They were an incongruous bunch. There were as many bikers in leather as there were guys in business suits. Later in the evening, it would be all bikers and bangers, but it was nice to see that Toby’s work was paying dividends and attracting a varied clientele.

  “Hey, Scott,” I called.

  He looked up and flashed a grin. He was a cute guy, with his layered blond hair, award-winning smile, and eyes that reminded me of jade, the way they were dark but also had even darker flecks in
them.

  “Hey, how’s it going? Ready for the first big day without the boss looking over your shoulder?”

  He snickered, and I knew he was teasing. I didn’t know what happened, but I knew Scott worshipped the ground Toby walked on. I’d never seen anyone work so hard to impress another person. Maybe he had a crush on Toby too. I mean, who wouldn’t?

  “I’m a little nervous,” I admitted.

  “It’ll be fine. You’re smart and know what you’re doing.”

  The praise was nice. “Thanks.”

  I got to work setting up my station with extra glassware, some plates, silverware, napkins, and condiments. I cleared a few tables and carried the dishes to the back where the cook would wash them later. I said hey to Andre, the cook. He gave me a gap-toothed smile and a wave.

  “Scott, is there anything I can do for you?”

  “Nope, I’m good. I got ice right before you got here, and it’s slow now so I’ve been keeping up with doing the dishes. If you want to eat, now’s the time.”

  I knew I should, but my stomach was in knots, worrying about Toby. I mean, I’d taken him breakfast. Why? Was that something friends did for each other? I mean, I would do it for my friends, but what about straight guys? Did they do that for each other? What was Toby thinking? Had I already messed up, then compounded the mistake by rushing out?

  “You’re awfully deep in thought,” rumbled a voice near my ear.

  I whirled around. “What are you doing here?” I demanded.

  Toby’s dark eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me? I believe I’m the manager here, so where else would I be?”

  My words had been harsh and I knew it, so I tried to dial it back. “That’s not what I meant. It’s your day off—why are you here?”

  He went to an open table, then gestured to a chair across from him. Was he going to fire me? Shit, I’d fire me.

  “Sit down, Kyle.” He gave a half smile. “Please.”

  I did as he directed. “Look, I’m sorry for—”

  “Why did you run out? I told you I’d drive you in. I was looking forward to having a nice conversation. Believe it or not, Waldo isn’t known for his witty repartee. The only things he knows how to say are ‘love me,’ ‘feed me,’ and ‘stop touching me and feed me again.’ I didn’t realize how much I needed human interaction until the other day when you made me the sandwich. Let me guess, that was vegan too, right?”

  I nodded, unsure I could form words.

  “Did I do something wrong? Is that why you left?”

  “What? No! It wasn’t anything. I just needed to get to work.”

  “Hey, Toby. What are you doing here?” Scott called out as he came in from the kitchen.

  “Why is everyone asking me that? My bar, so I can come in whenever I want. Is there a problem with that?”

  Scott paled. “No, I’m sorry.” He averted his gaze, but I saw the sheen of tears. I wanted to kick Toby. Instead, I glowered at him. He peered at me intently.

  “Problem?”

  “That was a total dick move. Are you always such an asshole to people who ask you a question that makes a lot of sense? You said you were looking forward to a day off, and now here you are. So when someone asks about it, you snap at them.”

  He had the decency to blush. “Sorry.” He stood and went to the bar. “Scott, I’m sorry. I’m tired, but I had no business barking at you. Please forgive me.”

  Though it was tremulous, the smile came back. “No problem. Did you want something?”

  “A glass of orange juice, please.” He turned to me. “Kyle, you want something?”

  “No, I have to get to—”

  “He’ll have a bottle of water,” Toby answered with finality.

  Scott put them up, and Toby carried them back to the table. He handed me the water, then took his seat again.

  “I was going to get you a juice, but wasn’t sure if you liked it.”

  There was no small amount of exasperation in my voice when I again asked, “Why are you here?”

  He shrugged a big shoulder. “I thought I’d done something wrong, so wanted to check in with you.” He sighed. “I’m going to be the first to admit, I’m not much for social interactions. I tend to say or do something stupid, so after you left, I sat there trying to dissect what had caused you to leave so quickly.”

  He thought I was upset with him?

  “You didn’t do anything wrong,” I promised. “Guess we have the same issue. What you see before you is probably the most fabulous thing on two legs, but that doesn’t mean I’m not worried about saying or doing something that will offend someone. I hate, and I mean hate when people are upset with me, and I tend to go overboard trying to fix a problem, be it perceived or real. I left because I thought I’d done or said something stupid.”

  “No, not at all,” he assured me. “I really did enjoy the breakfast, and… I don’t know. I wanted to talk with you. To hear what your plans for the day were, what you thought about the bar. I just wanted to hear your voice, I guess.”

  I was about to say something when the door opened. A man I’d seen in the bar before strode in, with two other guys at his heel. He saw me sitting with Toby and gave a weird sneer-slash-chuckle.

  “See, guys, told you. Toby has a crush.”

  Toby’s face went scarlet as he pushed up from the table. “I warned you about that shit,” he grumbled. “All you had to do was come in here, drink, and go home to your wife. Instead, you come in here, denigrate my employees, and try to pass that shit off as a joke. No more. Get out. You’re not welcome here anymore.”

  The guy’s eyes widened. “Toby, I—”

  “Get. Out.”

  “But—”

  “Get the fuck out of here,” he roared. “I warned you about doing shit like that. Get out.”

  The guy’s friends put their hands on his arms and tried to guide him to the door, but the guy jerked away. He stomped across the floor and got in Toby’s face.

  “We don’t want to drink in no fag place anyway,” he snarled. “You hire all these queers, and you think no one knows about you? You probably take them in the back and feed them your dick every night.”

  Toby reached for the asshole, but I was there to stop him from doing something he would regret.

  “Don’t. He’s not worth it.”

  I turned, ready to do what I could to defuse the situation. I didn’t see the fist headed for my face until it was too late.

  Fuck, just what I needed, another smack to my perfect nose.

  Chapter Seven

  Toby

  The sound was loud in the now-quiet bar. The smack of flesh on flesh reverberated in my head until it was the only thing I could hear. That fuckwad had punched Kyle in the face, knocking him to the ground. I’d heard of people seeing red before they lost it, and I thought it was just something they said, but nope. I saw Kyle on the floor, his hands covering his nose, and I lost it. I grabbed the guy and rushed forward, driving him into the wall hard enough to rattle the pictures.

  “You don’t touch him. You don’t put your hands on anyone that works here, do you understand me?”

  There was fear in his eyes, and I hated it. I never wanted people to be afraid of me, but I also didn’t want anyone touching my employees. Touching Kyle.

  “Toby, don’t.”

  I turned and found Kyle there, his hand still over his nose. “You okay?”

  “I think so,” he said. “But I won’t be if you don’t put him down.”

  Put him down? Why would I want to do that? I wanted to pound him into paste, stomp on his face. I wanted to put the fear of God into him over what he’d just done.

  “I—I called the police,” Scott said.

  I gave a terse nod. Something in my head was urging me to put the guy down, but something more, something primal, was driving me on to take revenge for that sound that still echoed in my ears.

  “Toby,” came the soft, almost pleading voice beside me. A hand on my arm, the touch gentle, ha
d me closing my eyes and drawing in a deep breath.

  “You’re sure you’re okay?” I asked, my voice guttural.

  “I’m fine. A bag of ice and I’ll be good as new. I won’t be if you hurt him, though. They might toss you in jail, and I would have to work extra hours, and believe me, you don’t want to see me with bags under my eyes. It’s not a pretty sight.”

  He didn’t know how wrong he was. Even with bags under his eyes, Kyle would be the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

  I pushed the guy away and stepped back. “Get the fuck out of my bar, and don’t come back.”

  The three of them said nothing, just scrambled out. As soon as the door closed, I spun and leveled my gaze at Kyle.

  “Let me see,” I said.

  “It’s fine, really.”

  “Kyle, move your damn hands.”

  When he did, I gasped. His lip was swollen and had a small gash in it. There was a bit of blood that had mostly crusted over, and it had trickled down his chin, leaving a dark crimson streak. The anger rushed back to me, and I wanted to run after the guy who’d hurt Kyle and show them why it wasn’t a good idea to put his hands where they didn’t belong. Instead, I called out to Scott to grab some ice and a warm washcloth.

  “Sit down.”

  Kyle turned on rubber band legs and took a step toward the table. If he hadn’t braced himself on another, he would have fallen. I reached out and put my hands around his waist and lifted him off his feet.

  “I’m fine,” he protested, but his voice was weak and thready.

  “Just lemme do this,” I barked.

  A few people offered to help, but I told them it was okay. After Scott brought out what I asked for, I told him to give everyone in the bar a free drink. Deciding not to make this a public spectacle, I carried Kyle to my office, where I sat him on the couch. I got down on my knees and wiped away the red smear from his face. Once I had him cleaned, I got up and grabbed a bar towel from the shelf. I wrapped the ice in the towel and gave it to Kyle with instructions to put it over his nose.

  “Give me Pete’s number,” I told him.

  “What? Why?”