by Quin Perin
“We want different things,” I said. That was the nicest way I could put it. “You want something more like a relationship. I want the complete opposite. We’re literally going in different directions.”
“What?” Tim scoffed. “I don—”
“Your brother came here the other day.” It had been the first sign that something wasn’t right, but I’d hoped I was wrong. “He asked when we’d started seeing each other. Started questioning me like he expected me to propose or something!”
“I didn’t know that,” he answered quietly.
“Well, it’s not happening again.” I pointed between the two of us. “We’re not happening again. So you know, goodbye. Thanks for the sex. Tell your brother we were never anything.”
“You’re an ass,” Tim said.
I shrugged. “I know.”
The first thing I did when I got home that evening was call Zoe to let her know what had happened. She was the one person I could talk to about all of this stuff. The one person who didn’t judge me for the way I handled my relationships...or lack of as the case may be. She’d had the indecency not to be at work today, leaving me ready to burst by the end of my shift.
She answered on the second ring as I set my keys in their bowl and headed toward the couch. “D-D-Dima! What’s up?” she chirruped. She sounded as if she was in a good mood and kind of tipsy.
“You busy?” I asked, plopping onto the couch.
“Never too busy for you.” She giggled.
Yeah, definitely tipsy.
“So what’s going on?”
“I had to break up with Tim today,” I said, stretching my legs in front of myself. “He tried to ask me out at work and then kept trying to kiss me.”
“Break up? You were never a thing.” She knew the deal. Which was why I needed to talk to her.
“Yeah, well, I don’t think he really believed me.” I sighed, untying my shoes and getting up to put them on the mat by the door. “He was getting clingy and sounded hurt when I told him we weren’t seeing each other anymore...or ever.”
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry,” she said. “That sucks. He seemed like…a nice guy.”
“Too nice,” I grumbled. “He told his brother about us. Oh! I didn’t tell you about that, did I?”
“His brother?”
“Yeah.”
“No. I don’t think so.” I heard liquid pouring, and I could picture her sitting in her chair in the living room, blanket on her lap, a glass of wine and a book. She was a cozy kind of person.
“He accosted me at work. It was after you’d left,” I informed her. “He started asking me about my intentions. Accusing me of using him. Which yeah, I was, but that was the agreement. He was supposed to be using me too!”
“Woooooooow. Seriously?”
“Yes!” I groaned and tossed myself back down. “Why’s it so hard to find a hot guy with a deep voice and a nice cock who wants to fuck wildly?”
She burst into laughter, which made me smile. Talking to her, even if it didn’t really work anything out, made me feel so much better.
“I don’t know, babe. But if you find out where they’re at, let me know.”
I smiled. “I will.” Zoe was a literal lifesaver. I’d felt uncomfortable all afternoon after talking to Tim, but now I felt fine. Over and done with.
FIVE
Tony
The rhythm of my feet hitting the ground echoed in my ears. It was sunny today and warmer. I’d woken up late, again, and decided to go for a run down the coastline. Jan had assured me yesterday that I could easily run five miles without hitting any major streets. Which is what I did. I was used to running in a humid climate, so the sea air against my skin made it easier to go for longer. Yes, I had left behind most of the belongings of my old life, but my running shoes were not one of them. Running was my escape. I ran to clear my head. I ran to stay in shape. If I needed to use weights, I bought a day pass to a gym. Either way, running didn’t cost a dime, and I could do it anywhere.
It was right before lunchtime when I returned to the area of Sara’s apartment, the light layer of sand crunching beneath my shoes on the sidewalk. The view to my right was incredible. The ships, the sea, the blurred lines of another shore across the water. Perfect. Music pulsed in my ears, giving me the rhythm I needed. Sometimes I sped up and used long strides to carry me farther; other times I kicked into a casual pace down the coastline. Now, I was merely jogging, sweat cold on my neck and chest.
As my pace slowed and I was about to cross the street to head toward my sister’s building, I noticed a familiar figure on the bench ahead of me. There he was. Again. Last night, I’d thought of him too. Of dark hair and dimples. He looked like a porcelain doll. Flawless, fragile almost. I unplugged my headphones and yanked them from my ears, inhaling deeply as I walked closer. My chest rose and fell heavily, and the mixture of sun and wind on my skin gave me soft chills.
I took a deep breath through my nose, bracing myself. There was no harm in talking to strangers. I did it all the time. Most people looked a bit intimidated at first—because of my height I imagined—but when I smiled at them, I could usually make conversation really fast.
“Hey,” I said.
He turned his head and smiled. What a beautiful sight. He wasn’t wearing a hat today. His jet-black hair was wind-whipped and shining. A bit longer at the front than the back. It looked so soft. As I evened out my breathing, I took another step closer.
“Hello,” he replied. His eyes were still closed, but his head was turned toward me. Why wouldn’t he look at me? Odd.
“It’s beautiful today,” I said, then added, “I’ve seen you around a couple of times...I, uh, I’m Tony.” Jesus, this was awkward. Why was I so awkward? I wasn’t normally like this. I could feel a bead of sweat slip down the side of my face, tangling in my beard. I didn’t know what else to say. My mind was blank. That never happened. Right when I was about to speak again, he stood up. His heavy-looking sweater hung open today, exposing a svelte body and thin hips. As he dug his hands into the large pockets on his sides, I was so sure he’d turn to me. But he didn’t. Instead, he stepped away, in the opposite direction.
“Wait, and you are?” I called, mildly out of breath. Oh my God, I sounded like a stalker.
He stopped, his back toward me, then turned his head and said, “I am pleased to meet you.”
Sara had given me a key earlier, which allowed me to march in the door and do my best not to slam it shut. That guy was weird. And strangely...arrogant? I didn’t know if that was the right word, but he was something.
I kicked off my shoes, heading straight for the bathroom to take a shower when Jan appeared in the doorway of the living room. I paused and cocked my head to the side. It was almost lunchtime. Did he come home for lunch every day?
“Hey,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at Leslie, who sneezed and whined.
“Uh, I thought you were at work.” I scratched my beard, brushing my fingers across my forehead to wipe away the sheen of sweat.
“Sara had an appointment at the townhall about her application to stay here for longer. They called a couple of minutes ago to have her come by. She asked me to look after Leslie. She’s got a bit of a cold, and the school won’t let her come in.” I nodded at that, then eyed him curiously. Sara was really lucky to have found someone like him.
“You’re from here, right?” I asked, the question coming out of nowhere. I wondered why they weren’t married yet. Then she wouldn’t have such a hard time to stay around. Perhaps they liked living like this, wild and free.
“Yeah,” Jan replied and leaned against the door frame while Leslie busied herself with a book on the couch, tossing and turning to find a comfortable position. I shifted in my spot, feeling the need to take a quick shower because, hell, I was freaking sweaty.
“Your accent is really slight,” I told him. Normally, the Dutch had a very persistent accent, like the French. Not as bad as the Germans though. Jan grinned, obviousl
y taking it as a compliment.
“Thanks...” I could sense the question forming on the tip of his tongue. “You okay? You kind of stormed in here.” There it was.
I blew out a breath. Well, yes. Of course, I was okay, but I couldn’t forget about this guy I’d seen on the bench. And whenever I closed my eyes, I saw him too. It was worrying. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Barely got jet lag.” I chewed on the right side of my bottom lip, standing in the middle of the hallway and contemplating whether I should tell him about the man from the bench. Ah, what the hell. “When I was running, I saw this guy on the bench across the street. I’ve seen him three days in a row now. He’s always there around lunchtime.” For some reason, that sounded...stalker-ish.
Jan arched an eyebrow and dug his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “And?”
Right.
“I don’t know. I can’t get him out of my head.” I slumped against the wall in the hallway, shaking my head at my words.
“What does he look like?” I met Jan’s eyes, mirroring his position with my hands slipping into the pockets of my sweatpants.
“Um...black hair, kinda slender.” I shrugged. “A good bit shorter than me.”
Jan grinned at that, eyes flashing with mirth. “Well, it’s not hard to be shorter than you.” I liked the guy. It was true. I probably had two or three inches on Jan, and I was pretty sure he was about six feet tall.
“What else?” Jan probed, intrigued.
“Asian. He’s Asian!” I snapped my fingers at him, the coin dropping.
“Oh...”
“You know him?”
“We’re a pretty international city and all, but I only know one guy who sits at the sea during lunchtime every day and who is also Asian. Korean if you want to get specific.”
“Who is he?” I urged. It wasn’t like I would get very far with a name. And I couldn’t exactly hunt him down and...what? Force him to talk to me?
“That’s Dima; he works for me,” Jan explained with a soft smile on his face.
“Oh, at your café?”
Jan nodded. Cool, then I knew where I’d go this afternoon. Awesome. I grinned brightly, clapping my hands together. Yes, I did that. Shit. Look more excited, you idiot.
“Is he, you know, interested in guys?” I asked boldly, gaze fixed on Jan.
His eyes widened as he stared up at me. I guess I had just outed myself. Sara probably hadn’t told him. It wasn’t necessarily a new thing, but it was one of those things we both took for granted. He swallowed before rubbing the back of his head, averting his eyes, obviously uncomfortable.
“Uh, yeah,” Jan replied with a nervous grin before he laughed quietly. “He definitely is.”
SIX
Dima
“Did you have a good lunch?”
Zoe’s warm voice hit my ears the moment I walked back into the café. There was a low murmur of voices. A couple of people sat near the window, and I heard the faint creak of one of the bar stools along the far wall. We weren’t too busy yet.
“Mm. Decent,” I said, running my fingers through my windswept hair, trying to put myself in order as I made my way toward the back. “The view was lovely.”
Zoe snorted. “I didn’t ask for a smartass remark, honey.”
“Then you’re talking to the wrong person, babe,” I shot back.
I’d put my hand on the kitchen door when I heard her footsteps coming toward me. They were heavy, from a pair of thick-soled boots she almost always wore. “Wait a minute!” She sounded like my mother. “Turn around.”
“What? Do I have something on me?” I smoothed my hands down my shirt, tugged on my sweater. I hoped a bird hadn’t shit on me or something. That would be fucking mortifying.
“No. You look fine.” Zoe laughed. Her hands were warm and smelled of coffee as she cupped my cheeks. She had a gentle touch, and apart from the occasional burn, her skin was soft. “But your hair’s getting a little long.”
“Ooh. Does it look bad?” I pouted. I could tell it was getting a bit long when I brushed it out in the morning, but I thought it might have looked cool.
A laugh and the scent of peppermint washed over me. I could hear the smile in her voice. “No. You know it doesn’t look bad. Never looks bad,” she said. “But we might wanna go get it trimmed sometime soon.”
If it weren’t for people like Zoe, I would have been a ball of anxiety. I could never tell if my hair looked perfect or not, but she kept me grounded, let me know when I needed a cut. Let me know if it was looking out of place. Let me know if anything with my appearance was wrong. It made me feel secure. Safe. “Okay,” I agreed, nodding. “Maybe we can do it next weekend.”
“Sounds good,” she said, patting my cheek. “Now get to work!”
Her faux-stern tone made me laugh. I shrugged out of my sweater as I headed into the kitchen. It was exchanged for the apron on the hook, and I tied it around my waist. “How’re we looking out there?” I asked.
“Uhm...lemme see.” The glass of the display slid open, and I heard her counting to herself. “We could probably use more of those cherry chocolate cupcakes. There’s, like, three left.”
“Aye, aye, boss.”
Baking always soothed me. I knew where everything was, and it never changed. Grab the flour, sift it carefully. Mix in the baking powder. Bit of salt. Decent amount of sugar. Beat the eggs—unless it was a vegan recipe—and then put it all together. Then the fun parts. Cocoa powder. Chunks of chocolate. The hum of the mixer. The heat from the oven. It was comforting and familiar.
I’d gotten two trays of cupcakes in the oven when the door dinged. It was followed by a gasp from Zoe. “Holy hell,” she mumbled, barely loud enough to be heard.
I moved to the window between the kitchen and café, leaning against it. “Something wrong?” I asked her.
“Uhm, this guy walked in, and he’s like...damn.” Cool air brushed past me, and her voice got closer as she leaned into the window as well. “He’s standing at the door, looking this way.”
“Does he know we’re talking about him?”
“Give me some credit, Dima. I’m playing it cool,” Zoe scoffed.
“Well...what does he look like?” I asked. “Other than damn of course.”
She took a breath. “Long blond hair, man bun, tall, built pretty nicely, beard. Kind of like a sexy mountain man who probably drinks local beer and listens to bands you’ve never heard of.”
“Oh...hm.” Didn’t sound too bad.
Before I could ask her anything else, she pushed away and whispered, “He’s coming over.”
SEVEN
Tony
After Sara had come home, Jan and I walked into town, an area with no cars at all. There were old buildings lined up next to one another, blending in with small houses made of steel and glass—the new and the old together. I’d seen so many cities by now that hardly anything impressed me. But I still liked it here.
A lot of English was spoken in the streets, and although it wasn’t incredibly busy, I could tell the sea and the pretty little town would draw in heaps of tourists each year. But maybe more in summer instead of the coming fall.
“That’s it,” Jan said and nodded toward his café. It was set at a corner, facing a little square with a couple of trees. We passed a window with people sitting at it, one holding a huge chocolate cupcake, making my stomach churn. I really hadn’t eaten much this morning. Toast and cheese with a couple of tomatoes on the side. One of those cupcakes would be heaven.
I followed Jan as he walked past a small blue bench in front of the café and smiled at an old lady who sat on it, feeding her dog bits of her sandwich. It was huge. The dog, not the sandwich. Great Dane or something. I slid inside when Jan held the door open for me. The café was small and cozy, a few customers hanging out, reading their newspapers, gossiping. The usual. Immediately, my gaze flitted past Jan and landed on the guy I’d seen at the bench. Dima. He bustled around in the back, visible through a window. It looked like he was
the star of his own TV show, gliding in and out of view.
“Order whatever,” Jan said, but my attention wasn’t with him anymore. “It’s on the house.”
I nodded thanks as he headed into the back. In here, Dima looked as gorgeous as he did at the sea. There was a girl at the counter, talking to him. Long brown hair was braided, then twisted and clipped at the back of her head. She had a friendly, round face and dark eyes that lit up with her smile. She said something which made him laugh as he passed over a plate of cookies. Dimples deepening on his cheeks. His eyes flashed with joy, crinkling ever so softly at the corners. Like draped silk. Those eyes were beautiful. Almond-shaped and dark. I was determined to look him in the eye for the very first time. I wouldn’t give him a choice.
“Hey,” the girl started, looking up at me as she stepped toward the register. “What can I get you?” I looked around the counter, examining the cakes and pastries on display. Although I was hungry, I really didn’t feel like eating. Too nervous.
So I ordered, “Dima.”
Her brow creased before she glanced back over her shoulder at the man in question. Dima quirked an eyebrow and disappeared. For a moment I thought he was trying to hide from me, but then the door opened, and he stepped out of the kitchen. Confident, with his head held high. But he still didn’t look at me. He kept his gaze averted. But now I saw his eyes were as dark as the sky at night. I frowned when he looked past me. Those slender fingers rested on the counter where the girl had stood.
“Hey, remember me?” I asked, placing my palms on the counter and squaring my shoulders to block his view. The space around us fell silent. As though everyone tried to listen in. It was weird. Maybe it was just paranoia.