Homecoming Hearts Series Collection

by HJ Welch

  It had been Corey’s home for as long as he could remember, bouncing around from house to house. He knew these streets like the back of his hand and liked having a job where he got to travel them regularly. He never had been good at staying in one place.

  Speedy Pete’s unique selling point was that it used motorcycles for its deliveries rather than cars, so their pizzas arrived quicker. And like Stoner had said, they gave you your food for free if they were late.

  He kept telling himself he could get another job if tonight fucked him over. But he was going to be tight making the rent for his room as it was and his landlady was nice enough until you were short. Then Corey knew he’d be in for a lot of swearing in Polish and possibly a broom over his head.

  His room may be tiny and smell of cigarettes from the previous tenant, but it was his, goddamn it. He wasn’t going to lose his job and his place over some dumb college bros if he could help it.

  Unfortunately, Ross was about as sympathetic as Corey feared he would be.

  “What part of ‘the customer is always right’ did you forget? Dipshit!” he yelled at Corey in the back of the pizza takeout store.

  There wasn’t seating or anything there, it was just a place that delivered. ‘On time, or your money back!’ as Ross reminded Corey. His slicked-back hair looked like dirty oil under the buzzing florescent lights and his thin mustache like old mascara bristles. He poked Corey’s shoulder.

  “Well?” Ross demanded. “What were you thinking?”

  “So you wanted me to just let them rob us?” Corey asked in disbelief. “They were full of shit! I wasn’t late!”

  He could feel the rest of the team glancing warily at him from where they were making orders or waiting to go out on another delivery. Corey didn’t care, he was in the right.

  “So you threw the pizzas at them?” Ross spluttered.

  Ah. Yeah. He may not have been entirely in the right with that.

  “I placed them on the ground,” Corey said, attempting a cheeky grin. It didn’t look like Ross bought it. “I swear! They didn’t lose a single slice. But they were high as kites and they weren’t going to pay, so I left before they did something dumb like pull a gun on me.”

  Scrawny Ross, who was at least five inches shorter than Corey and had probably never done a day’s cardio in his life, shook his head in disgust. “Pussy,” he muttered under his breath, not bothering to even look at Corey. He was too busy pouring over the receipt he’d printed out from the system. “Okay, you don’t think eighty dollars is worth showing up on time for or fighting over? It can come out of your paycheck.”

  “You cannot be serious?” Corey exploded. “I can’t afford that! Ross, be reasonable! I was on time!”

  Ross jabbed a finger into Corey’s face, the receipt screwed up in his fist. “You’re lucky I’m not firing you, you little punk,” he spat out. Corey refrained from pointing out Ross was only a couple of years older than him. “This is your last warning. You fuck up again, you’re out.”

  Without another word, Ross spun on his heels, his overly shiny shoes squeaking on the linoleum as he stormed off into his back office, slamming the door behind him.

  Corey stood in silence for a moment, absolutely fuming. Slowly, people began to move around him again, returning to work. Nobody really spoke, but the sound of the radio quietly hummed over the noises from the machinery and the phone was soon ringing again, begging to be answered.

  Corey had little choice but to swallow his pride and wait over with the other delivery guys for another order. Hopefully the next one would pay. They might even tip well if there was any justice.

  He felt a tug on the sleeve of his leather jacket as he passed one of the workstations. He looked down to see one of the ‘moms,’ as he thought of them. There were several well-rounded, middle-aged women who chatted to each other in Spanish and often left together once their shifts were done to go grocery shopping together.

  This lady’s name was Maria and she’d been at Speedy Pete’s at least as long as Corey had, probably way longer. She always worked the night shifts on Tuesdays, Fridays and Saturdays. She smiled at him and glanced around to make sure Ross hadn’t crept back out. Then she pulled a coin purse out from her pants pocket.

  “For Mr. Corey,” she said, producing a twenty.

  “Oh, no,” Corey said immediately, holding up his hands. He knew she had at least two kids at home. “Gracias, Maria. Really, that’s so sweet of you. But it’s my own dumb fault. You don’t have to do that.”

  “No, Mr. Corey,” Maria said with a frown, pushing the note into his hands even though he still wouldn’t take it. “We all know. Mr. Ross is being the jackass. You take. I tell you.” She scowled. “Be a good boy.”

  “Yes, take.” Corey looked around to see another two of the women holding out bills as well. They looked equally formidable.

  “Um, okay,” Corey said weakly. He couldn’t deny that sixty bucks would go a long way to helping him out if Ross was going to screw him over. “I’ll pay you back, I swear,” he added, meaning it as he folded the bills into his pocket.

  Maria blew a raspberry, then hurriedly pulled on a fresh pair of blue latex gloves. She then went back to sprinkling mozzarella on the couple of pizzas that had queued up while she’d been talking to Corey. “Good boy,” she said smugly.

  Corey didn’t feel quite so shitty as he went around to the pickup collection and got the address for his next delivery. He vowed to buy the ladies a box of chocolates on his way back from this drop-off. He was aware he would be using their own money to do it, but he had to show them their kindness meant something.

  He’d spend every other penny on bills, he promised himself. And if he could muster up a few good tips, he might not go completely under this month.

  After all, he had no one else he could rely on. He was all alone in this world. He argued it was probably okay to accept the kindness of his colleagues occasionally.

  It wasn’t like a white knight was going to swoop in and rescue him anytime soon. He had to save his own ass.

  Just like always.

  3

  Reyse

  There were few times during the day that Reyse could generally catch his breath and feel like he was alone with his thoughts. He just never seemed to stop working, which is why it had been such a big deal for him to take a few days off to fly to Scotland for the wedding.

  But even though that had only been a week and a half ago, it felt like months. He had stopped off in three different European countries on his journey back, because heaven forbid he miss an opportunity to squeeze in some promo. Since arriving back in LA he had met with a couple of sponsors and done a charity auction.

  Now, though, he was in his favorite part of the recording cycle. They were just starting to finalize the tracks for the next album for production next month, a couple of which had been written by Raiden. Reyse was going to push as much as he could for those ones to be recorded and included on the final cut. Not just because Raiden was his friend, but because they were damn good songs. If one of them could get released as a single…

  He was getting ahead of himself, but it would be a real boom for Raiden. His music production business had suffered badly when he’d been hacked last year, and even though he’d done well building up clients again, Reyse knew this would be just the boost he needed.

  That and a couple of other thoughts were swirling around his head as he walked down the sidewalk that evening with a protein shake. He normally used the gym in his building, but seeing as he had a couple of quiet days in his schedule he had taken the opportunity to go to one of the uber-fancy places across town. It had a certain level of clientele so he could usually get away without being disturbed too much, although there was often some dickhead who snuck a photo. Like it was super interesting to see Hicks busting his ass on a treadmill looking like a hot mess?

  Reyse shook his head. Whatever. He hadn’t noticed anything like that tonight and he’d even been able to shower in peace. N
ow he was enjoying soaking up the sights and sounds of the city as the summer night fell. He felt calm and centered. Maybe he’d order sushi in and watch a movie? He still hadn’t seen TJ’s latest one.

  So of course that was the moment his phone rang.

  The noise jarred Reyse, like nails on a chalkboard, even though the ringtone itself wasn’t all that offensive. He was just tuned into the particular melody, and hearing it meant he knew he was being disturbed.

  For a second, he hoped it was someone fun calling for a chat or about an exciting opportunity. But then he saw Kevin’s name and his heart sank.

  Kevin was a necessary ball ache in Reyse’s life. His manager didn’t like Reyse much and he knew that Reyse knew. Reyse thought he probably resented his success in some messed-up way, even though Kevin had been instrumental in so much of that success.

  Deep down, Reyse suspected it was more that Kevin knew about his sexuality and was disgusted by it. After all, it was his idea that Reyse and Bella ‘date’ for Reyse’s public image. Why else would he suggest it? Sure, he’d fed Reyse some line about needing to date because it was good for branding. But what Reyse heard was ‘date a woman.’

  However, Kevin was damned good at his job, and Reyse adored his own job most of the time. So he took a deep breath, smiled, and answered the call.

  “Hey, dude! How you doing? What’s up?”

  “I’m good, Reyse, thank you,” Kevin said. His voice was clipped but pleased. Narcissists like him always preened when you asked about them first. “I was just calling to confirm your schedule for the next couple of weeks.”

  “It’s mostly studio time, right?” Reyse asked. He’d been really banking on that. He just wanted to get locked into the room and make some magic. He was all tingly just thinking about it.

  The high he got from creating music was as close as he got to sex these days, he thought ruefully with a chuckle.

  “Yes,” Kevin confirmed, “but I’ve squeezed in a couple of telephone interviews with Asia – two in Japan and one in Korea – and I think we might need to change up your nutritionist. So I’m looking into booking a couple of interviews with candidates, just so you know.”

  Reyse stopped walking on the sidewalk and looked at the protein shake in his hand. “What’s wrong with Becky?” he asked, a tiny bit defensively. She was a really nice doctor who never fangirled at Reyse. If anything, she mothered him, and he quite enjoyed that. He wasn’t eager to test out a bunch of newbies.

  Kevin scoffed. Reyse could practically hear him roll his eyes over the line. “She’s gone and got herself pregnant, so sometime soon she’ll be off, sitting back collecting a paycheck for god knows how long. We might as well replace her now before she goes all baby-brained.”

  Reyse scowled. “I doubt she got herself pregnant,” he said. “And I’m sure she’ll be okay to keep working until she’s in her third trimester.” Becky wasn’t the kind of woman to sit around idly. He knew she would want to keep busy.

  There was a silence from the phone. Kevin hated to be contradicted. “I think it would be wise to consider our options now,” he said coolly. “If we sit with our thumbs up our asses we could find ourselves without anyone and then you might get fat again.”

  An icy wave washed over Reyse. Kevin had managed to be subtly homophobic and also remind Reyse of a time when his body image was at its lowest, all in one sentence. Fucker.

  Reyse gritted his teeth, then smiled, even though Kevin wasn’t there to appreciate it. “Sure,” he said cheerfully. “It doesn’t hurt to be prepared. Let’s see who’s out there and might want to work with-”

  It all happened in a split second.

  Reyse never even saw the bicycle as it flew past, let alone the hand that reached out and snatched his phone.

  His personal phone.

  “FUCK!” he bellowed, spinning around to see the guy already several feet away. Reyse dropped his shake and broke into a sprint before he even considered what he was doing. But there was no way he could just let someone take off with so much personal information about him when he was on a call and the phone was unlocked. Even if Kevin hung up, the bastard could probably decrypt the passcode easily enough.

  If he didn’t realize he had Reyse Hickson’s phone already, he soon would. Reyse had countless photos saved in his gallery, as well as his Twitter, his Instagram.

  His Grindr.

  He’d never even been brave enough to meet up with any guys on there. But he liked to chat from time to time with strangers. Sometimes sext. It helped with the crushing loneliness.

  Now it could be the undoing of his entire career.

  “STOP!” he yelled. “THAT’S MY PHONE!”

  Reyse ran flat out as the asshole weaved between pedestrians, trying to get into the heavy evening traffic. People around him were all jumping away in shock, yelping and squealing as he clipped their arms. At least that made a path for Reyse to sprint through. But he was still losing the guy.

  Until the mugger rushed toward a pizza delivery man.

  The dude was in bike leathers with a baseball cap, carrying three pizza boxes on top of each other, looking up at the apartment block he was walking past. At Reyse’s shout, he looked down to see the thief and Reyse running after him.

  Without hesitating, the guy Frisbeed all three boxes at the mugger’s chest.

  The thief lost his momentum. The bike wobbled too much and he had to put his foot down as the pizza spun out from the boxes. Hot cheese, meat and cardboard scattered all over the sidewalk, making pedestrians jump back from the mess.

  The thief was already regaining his balance, but the pizza guy apparently wasn’t done. He lunged forward, reaching for the phone in the mugger’s hand. The thief shoved him back, but the pizza guy wouldn’t let go. They were scrambling over the bike, the pizza guy trying to drag the thief off while the thief pushed and shoved, attempting to pedal away.

  Reyse had almost reached them. Just as the pizza guy smacked Reyse’s phone from his hand, sending it toppling to the sidewalk, the mugger landed a heavy punch, square on the pizza guy’s left cheek.

  The pizza guy staggered backward, his ass hitting the sidewalk, giving the mugger the chance he needed to peddle away.

  Leaving Reyse’s phone on the ground.

  Reyse scooped it up before dropping next to the pizza guy. As thrilled as he was he hadn’t lost the phone, he wanted to check on his rescuer more. Reyse crouched to see under the baseball cap and they looked at each other for the first time.

  Reyse’s heart almost stopped.

  The man was fucking gorgeous.

  Reyse worked in the music industry. He rubbed shoulders with actors and models and dancers all the time. But something about this guy completely stole his breath away. Chestnut eyes and thick, rich brown hair that stuck up from under the hat. Chiseled jaw with just the right amount of dark scruff, neatly trimmed. Even under the leather jacket (which was hot in and of itself, if Reyse was honest) he could see the guy had a good build, bigger than Reyse’s owl slim but muscular frame.

  He realized he’d been staring. But so had the pizza guy, naturally.

  He was face-to-face with Reyse Hickson.

  Then, despite the shiner already blossoming around his left eye, the guy broke into a lop-sided smile that melted what was left of Reyse’s heart.

  “Hey,” the guy said happily and pointed to Reyse’s hand. “You got your phone back.”

  The tension between them broke and Reyse laughed. “Yeah,” he said sheepishly. “At the expense of your face. And your pizza.” He looked around at the mess guiltily. “Sorry about that.”

  They had a fair crowd of people around them now, several with their own phones out. For once, Reyse didn’t care. For once, he was just a guy smiling at another cute guy, sharing a moment.

  “Are you okay?” someone cried from the small throng.

  “Ahh, I’m fine,” said the pizza guy, touching his cheek gingerly. “Nothing broken.”

  “Not you,” the v
oice said in scorn. “Hicks! Hicks, are you all right?”

  “Do you want us to call nine-one-one?”

  “I got it all on film!”

  “Hicks! Hicks, sign my arm!”

  Reyse clamped his jaw and refused to look at anyone. “Back away, please!” he said loudly and firmly. “No photos!” Only about a third of them would listen, but it made him feel better. “You need some ice on that shiner,” he said to the pizza guy.

  He wanted to reach out and cradle the side of his face, but he was far too sensible to do something like that.

  “Nah,” the pizza guy said with that half smile again that made Reyse’s heart flip. “I’m cool. I better call work and tell them to get another order out.” He sighed. “I’m probably fired, though. I was on my last strike.” He wiggled his eyebrows at Reyse. “Apparently, I can’t stop throwing pizzas at people.”

  It was obviously meant to be a joke, but Reyse’s stomach was too busy sinking. “I’ll pay for it,” he said in a rush. “I’ll tip double. You can’t lose your job for me.”

  People were still jostling and shouting around them, but all the commotion faded away as the guy blinked at Reyse and gave him a smile that tugged both sides of his mouth. It was shy and his expression was somewhere between disbelieving and touched, or so Reyse thought. Maybe he was being too hopeful. But somehow it was hotter than the cheeky grin had been.

  “Uh, okay,” the guy said. “I’d rather not get fired.”

  Reyse made a snap decision. “Look, I live nearby,” he muttered, not wanting the onlookers to hear. “I can get you a bag of ice, write you a check and give you some peace to call your boss.”

  The guy blinked again. Reyse knew what he must be thinking. One of the most famous guys on the planet had just invited him up to his place. But Reyse honestly had the noblest of intentions and there was no reason for this guy to think he was flirting.

  Who would ever assume Reyse Hickson was gay?