by Lane Hayes
The line was always long, but I was a regular here and I had a connection. Kind of like VIP access at the hottest club in town, only better because this was ice cream. I could bypass the crowds and move directly to the side counter where a tiny woman with short raven hair named Coco would magically appear to take my order. She was the store manager and my social media contact. We’d developed an easy rapport based on ice cream flavors and trends. I kid you not. There were days I’d happily engaged in long debates ranking salted caramel versus the salted licorice flavor while trying to shake celebrity favorites from her for added content to my Instagram page.
However, I’d recently stopped cashing in on the perks of skipping the line and rarely paying for food in LA’s hippest bars, clubs, and eateries to concentrate on launching Zero. I still had contacts, like Coco, who I knew would pull us to the front and hook us up with more ice cream than we should consume in one sitting, but I wasn’t interested in gossiping about what Jennifer Lawrence ordered or if she’d had a Miley sighting this week. My attention was firmly on the skater boy charming the hell out of my little brother.
Ky kept up a steady dialogue with Ollie about the strangest ice cream flavors they’d ever tried while I alternately scrolled messages on my cell and scanned the shop for a vacant table. When one opened up, I tapped Oliver’s shoulder and inclined my head.
“There’s a spot. Tell me what you want and go get it,” I said in a hushed tone.
“Oh. I can’t decide. They have a weird new one with eggs and bacon. It’s probably bad though, so—”
“That table is gonna last as long as a chocolate bar in my man bag. Hurry it up,” I urged.
Ky snickered. “Why don’t you get the table? I’ll order.”
“Okay. I’ll take a single scoop of Caramel Ribbons.” I unzipped my bag and handed over my credit card.
He shook his head. “My treat.”
“But…why?”
“You’re not supposed to ask why. Just say thanks.”
I returned his lopsided smile. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Ky gestured toward the table next to the window overlooking San Vicente Street. “That one’s better. Get movin’, Char.”
I scowled but hurried to obey before the college-aged girls in midriffs taking selfies near the front door swooped in. I set my bag on the table and spread out as much as possible to wordlessly convey I was waiting for friends…not just hogging precious space. Then I refocused on Ky and Oliver. Okay, fine. I focused on Ky’s ass. His board shorts hugged his butt just enough to let the imagination run wild. And I had a rather prolific imagination. Not a bad thing usually, but secretly lusting after the guy I wanted out of the band wasn’t smart. Neither was letting him buy Ollie and me ice cream.
Whatever. It was a one-time thing. And it might actually be a good idea to find out more about Ky. Maybe he’d admit Zero had turned into a bigger commitment than he’d been prepared to make. If I finessed this properly, we might come to a mutual agreement without any ugly fireworks in the studio. I could be a decent negotiator…when I remembered not to say what was exactly on my mind.
“Here you go. One scoop, right?” Ky set the small container down just as Oliver wiggled into the lone seat across from me.
“We’re missing a chair,” Oliver said around his spoon. “You’ll have to sit together so Ky can see if he recognizes anything different about me.”
“I gotta sit next to Charlie?” Ky teased.
“Charlie is pretty cool,” Oliver assured him.
“Thanks, Ol.” I smiled before shoveling a huge bite of ice cream into my mouth.
“I think so too,” Ky said matter-of-factly.
Oliver paused mid bite. “Do you like guys? ’Cause if you do, you should ask him out. Charlie doesn’t have a boyfriend.”
I widened my eyes and tried to swallow what was in my mouth before I coughed and sputtered. “Jesus, Ol! What”—cough, cough—“what are you doing?”
“Nothing,” he replied innocently.
“Oh, my God. Do not—”
“Relax.” Ky fixed me with a devilish side-eyed look, then nudged my shoulder. “Charlie and I work together. It would be weird if I asked him out.”
“And he’s straight and has a girlfriend,” I added. “Leave him alone and eat your ice cream, pipsqueak.”
Ky waited for Oliver to dig into his dessert before turning sideways. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“What happened to the girl you brought to Gray and Justin’s barbeque a couple of weeks ago?” I asked.
“Lauren? We’re just friends.”
“Oh. You mean you were never…” I made a circular motion with my hand. “More than friends?”
“We were. It didn’t work out.”
“Why not?” Oliver asked.
Ky shrugged. “We didn’t have much to talk about, I guess. How’s that S’mores flavor?”
“Good. Wanna bite?” Oliver offered, pushing his ice cream across the table.
Ky leaned forward with his spoon raised and narrowed his eyes. “I think I know what’s different. You have glasses.”
And just like that, Oliver deflated before our eyes. “Yeah.”
I met Ky’s gaze and cleared my throat to start another round of “You look awesome,” but Ky beat me to it.
“I like ’em. I wear glasses too, you know.”
“You do?” Ollie asked, furrowing his brow intently like he was trying to picture Ky looking remotely geeky and just couldn’t see it.
“Yeah, I have contacts in now, but I’m blind as a bat without them. If my glasses were as cool as yours I’d wear them all the time. Let me try ’em.” Ky wiggled his fingers expectantly. When Oliver handed them over, he set the small frames on his nose. “How do I look?”
“Kinda silly. They’re too small for you.”
“Well, they look cool on you,” Ky assured him.
“Thanks,” Oliver replied weakly.
“What’s the matter? Don’t you believe me?”
“I guess.” Oliver stared at his ice cream, twisting the plastic spoon in a circle.
Ky shot a concerned glance my way. I couldn’t telepathically communicate the entire situation, so I bit my bottom lip and made a funny face. And maybe it was warped wishful thinking, but I could have sworn he lingered on my mouth longer than necessary before sucking in a deep breath.
“It can’t be the glasses. What’s the real problem?” Ky asked.
Oliver didn’t reply immediately. When he did his voice was barely audible. “Nothing. Stupid kids and school junk. Sometimes I wish I was homeschooled. My parents are too busy, though. They’d probably hire someone lame, and then I’d go to high school and be a super geek instead of medium geek. I have to get through nine more years of this stuff before college.”
“What stuff? Is someone bullying you?”
“I don’t know. Whatever. I don’t really have any friends. I switched schools to be closer to Dad’s house. I thought it would be better than last year, but it’s not. And now this.” He wagged the frames on his nose. “Glasses are gonna ruin my life. My social calendar’s a doomed wasteland.”
Ky snickered. “You spend a lot of time with Charlie, don’t you?”
Before I could defend myself or agree that I probably wasn’t the best role model for the average kid who wanted to fit in with his peers, Oliver spoke up.
“Charlie’s my best friend. He’s super smart and he doesn’t let anyone mess with him. Not even the principal at my school.” Oliver flashed a bright grin as he wiggled in his chair, tucking his knee underneath him. “You should have seen him last week. He came to pick me up in Dad’s convertible and he was in a sad mood, so he was playing Del really loud and—”
“Adele,” I corrected with a sigh.
“Yeah, so Mr. Connelly asked him to turn it down and Charlie turned off the car and pulled out a feather thing—”
“A boa,” I supplied.
“And he put it around his nec
k and stood on the seat and asked Mr. Connelly a million questions until he wanted to be Charlie’s best friend.”
Ky swiveled in his chair and chuckled. “What kind of questions, Char?”
“What’s your favorite color? What’s your sign?” I replied as I spooned a bite of ice cream. “The basics.”
“First date questions. Nice touch,” Ky snorted. “Did he ask you out?”
I paused for a moment, then nodded. “Yes. I respectfully declined.”
“Gee, why?”
“Cover your ears, Ol,” I instructed. I waited for him to obey before glowering at Ky and whispering, “This isn’t supposed to be about me, so quit trying to make me squirm. I hate it.”
Ky chuckled softly. “Liar. You fuckin’ love it. And I’m too curious to let it go now. Why’d you turn down the principal?”
“He’s not my type.”
“Can I listen now? Is it safe?” Ollie asked, swiping his forearm across his nose.
“Yeah,” Ky said. “But I have three more questions for Charlie.”
“Thank you for your interest, but I’m not currently taking questions,” I huffed, squeezing his knee.
Ky yelped. He swatted me under the table, then captured my fingers before twisting his pinkie finger around mine. His grip was too tight to be mistaken as an attempt to hold hands, but it was still oddly thrilling. At least my dick thought so.
“Nothing too tough, Char. Question number one…what’s your favorite color?” Ky asked.
“I’m not telling.”
“He likes red,” Oliver blabbed.
Ky smiled at my tattletale brother and turned to me. “What’s your sign?”
“Don’t tell him,” I warned.
Oliver inclined his head and made a zipped lips gesture. “I don’t know what that means anyway.”
“It’s another way of asking when it’s your birthday,” Ky said.
“Oh. My birthday is July tenth.” Oliver pointed at his chest, then at me. “Charlie’s is September twenty-first.”
“Remind me never to give you the password to my bank account,” I groused.
“When’s yours?” Ollie asked, ignoring me.
“March eighteenth. So Charlie’s a Virgo.” Ky let go of my hand and pulled out his cell.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m gathering important data here. Gimme a sec. Oh. Very interesting,” he singsonged, casting a speculative glance my way. “It says here, Virgos are smart, efficient, and dependable.”
“Like a good vacuum,” I huffed.
Ky snickered. “There’s more. It says you’re a hard worker and you never forget anything.”
“Like an elephant,” Oliver chirped.
“Fabulous.”
“It also says you’re stubborn, uptight, and picky. Yep. Sounds about right,” Ky teased. “I’m thinking you turned down the principal based on principle and something specific…something kinda picky. What was it? Oh, and that’s question number three, by the way.”
Oliver the traitor chuckled merrily on his side of the table. But thanks to Ky, he looked a million times less miserable than he had earlier. I figured the least I could do was play along.
“He didn’t know any Led Zeppelin songs,” I replied.
“Huh?”
“That’s Charlie’s favorite band,” Oliver piped in.
Ky narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “How come I didn’t know that?”
I shrugged. “You do now.”
“Hmm. I wouldn’t have guessed that. Ever. Beyoncé, Madonna, Britney…sure, but—”
“Thanks for the stereotype,” I snarked before adding, “I like all those divas and quite a few more, but after Zero, of course, Zep is my favorite band.”
“Why?”
“My dad’s a big classic rock fan. Especially seventies rock. I grew up listening to music that was popular thirty years before I was born. I still have a serious crush on young Robert Plant and pretty much any musician who looks anything like him,” I gushed, licking ice cream from my spoon like a cat.
“Good to know.” Ky fixated on my mouth for a long moment, then cleared his throat. “So, um…your principal likes Charlie, eh?”
“Everyone likes Charlie. Even when they don’t want to. It would be easier if he was my age so he could go to school with me. Then no one would bug me.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, but you don’t need me. You’ve got this on your own. School just started last month. There’s plenty of time to meet new friends.”
Oliver hung his head suddenly and concentrated on his ice cream. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Have you thought about trying a sport?” Ky asked conversationally.
I let out a strangled cough and swallowed a big bite, accidentally giving myself a freeze-head as Oliver unleashed a new round of woes. I shot a sideways death glare, instantly revoking my “Ky’s not so bad” card.
“I’m on the soccer team, but I don’t play ’cause it’s for a club and they only want the good players on the field. I sit on the bench with—”
“All righty. That’s enough of this pep talk,” I scowled. “I’m gonna have to call my therapist and break out my EVS.”
Ky rolled his eyes. “What the fu—what’s an EVS?”
“Emotionally vulnerable soundtrack,” Oliver said matter-of-factly. “Charlie has soundtracks for everything.”
“Yeah, I bet.” Ky chuckled.
“Ollie, do me a huge favor and grab a few napkins for me, please.” I smiled tightly and waited until he was out of earshot before turning to Ky. “Listen, Sally Sunshine, your Nike-esque advice isn’t going to help. He can’t just do it. ‘Go make friends, go join a team, go conquer the fucking world.’ That’s not Oliver. He thinks everything through and then dissects it and thinks about it again before he acts. Trying a new sport isn’t going to help anything. I’m sure you mean well, but you sound like a dad right now, and trust me, it’s the last thing he needs.”
Ky narrowed his eyes. “I sound like a dad? Me? Dude, you have no idea how wrong you are. I sure as fuck don’t sound like mine anyway.”
“Don’t get insulted. Someone has to keep it real, Ky. All the so-called adults in his life are busy, so they put me in charge. Let’s be honest.…I wouldn’t ask me to water your plants, let alone watch your kid. So I admit I might not have a clue, but I don’t think that you can tell a kid what to do and expect a miracle.”
“You’re right. You have to show them,” he agreed, casting a friendly smile at Oliver when he approached the table again. “Hey, how do you feel about skateboarding?”
I gave Ky the “what the fuck?” look he deserved while Oliver mulled over the question with his head cocked so his hair fell over his eyes.
“I like it. I’m not very good, but Gray and Justin let me ride their boards sometimes,” Ollie replied.
“Right. I saw you cruising on your stomach around the pool. Have you tried standing up?”
Ollie snickered. “Yeah, I fell in the pool.”
“I can teach you how to ride without falling if you’re interested.” When Ollie didn’t respond right away, Ky pushed his chair back and stood. “Think about it. Skateboarding is one of those weird skills that gets you where you want to go in more ways than one.”
“Okay. When?”
“I’ll give you lessons whenever you’re free. Your brother and I can work something out.” He gave Ollie a high five and ruffled his hair. “See ya, Ol.”
Then he smirked at me before tucking his skateboard under his arm and heading for the exit. Yes…smirked. I saw fifty shades of red in less than three seconds. The urge to rip his head off was so strong, I had to count to ten and remind myself that public displays were only entertaining when I wasn’t headlining. I clenched my jaw, reached for my spoon, and—oh fuck it.
“Don’t move a muscle. I’ll be right back,” I said as I jumped out of my seat and raced for the door.
2
Ky
“Ky!”
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I bit back my grin when I turned to face Charlie. I wondered how far I’d make it before he came for me. The guy was a fuckin’ hothead who made close to zero effort to hide his dislike for me. It was far too easy to yank his chain. Though this time around, my intentions were good. I liked Oliver. In fact, I was Oliver once upon a time. I knew what it was like to deal with absentee parents and the wicked chorus in my head telling me I deserved to be alone and invisible.
Not that I was about to share any of that with Char.
I peered through the window to be sure I could keep an eye on Oliver while I was getting yelled at before meeting Charlie’s glare with a lazy smile. “What’s up?”
“Why did you do that?” he fumed. “I literally just asked you not to mess with him.”
“I wasn’t messing with him. If he wants to learn how to ride, I’ll teach him.”
“When? You have no time.” He put one hand on his hips and shook his finger at me. “You’re in a fucking band. When you’re not practicing, you’re out cruising for babes or doing fuck knows what! Do not make promises you can’t keep. Not to him. I won’t tolerate one more person letting him down. Especially not you. So mind your own business, Ky. Go practice your bass and ride your skateboard and just…fuck off while you’re at it.”
I glanced down at the finger poking my chest before meeting Charlie’s fiery gaze. The first thing that crossed my mind after He’s a pain in the ass, was Damn, he’s cute when he gets pissed. Like really fucking cute.
Okay, here’s the thing…I was probably bi, but I wasn’t into labels and specifying my sexuality wasn’t my style. I had a ton of gay or bi buddies. Hell, everyone in my band was gay or bi. I’d experimented in my late teens and early twenties, but it didn’t go far because…well, I had my reasons. I could honestly say I hadn’t looked twice at a man in years. But there was something about Charlie.
I wasn’t necessarily attracted to him—however, I wasn’t immune. I didn’t think anyone who met him could honestly claim immunity. Some days he came at you like a hurricane, whirling around you in mad circles like he was on a manic quest no one else knew about. But Charlie could be quiet and thoughtful too. That was when he made me really nervous. I could practically see him plotting my demise when I’d catch him glancing in my direction.