Not Used To Cute

by Becca Seymour

  Refocusing my gaze, I thought my eyes appeared a little brighter. I struggled at times to fit in, not only in a new place at work, but it seemed life in general. I was often “too much” for many people, but everyone at the bar had been great. A few of the bar staff had flirted, which was sweet, until Elijah intervened and told them to back off and get on with work. I hadn’t minded either: the flirting or the protection. Both had made me feel good and had sent tingling goodness all the way to my toes.

  Just after one week, I realised that working in a place liberally painted in rainbows screamed safety and acceptance. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel the need to tone myself down or act a particular way in my clumsy attempt at trying to fit in.

  At Bar QK, I could be me.

  I sighed again, this time lighter and freer. I didn’t cope well when I got in a funk, and Friday night home alone didn’t help much. I’d jumped in the shower after my work week, having happily waved goodbye to my new colleagues. I’d kept my ear open when I’d left just in case I overheard the mention of a group drink or a get-together, but there’d been nothing. So instead, I’d made my way back to my small apartment and tried not to think of anything beyond my great week.

  Admittedly, it had taken me the time to get home to realise that it was Friday night, which was one of the busiest nights at the bar. It meant almost everyone was working. I’d almost done myself injury with how far I’d rolled my eyes back in my head. Plus there was the whole “I could have simply stuck around and sat at the bar with a beer” thing. The knowledge had pissed me off. Completely with myself, of course.

  I cast my gaze away from the mirror and finished towelling off. Once dry, I reluctantly left the room to enter the rest of my empty apartment. After throwing on my jocks, I put in a load of washing and then eyed the fridge. Despite willing food to appear, or edible items beyond tomato sauce, mustard, and jam, none did. I blew out a breath. There was no way I was heading to the supermarket. I contemplated a takeaway and considered my funds.

  Elijah had paid me, so I had a bit of money, though I wasn’t quite sure if it was enough to splurge on takeout. Shutting the fridge door, I glanced around the space, spotting an unfinished bottle of red wine. It was rare to leave a bottle unfinished, alien even, but I’d treated myself to a bargain cleanskin on Monday and had apparently only had a couple of glasses before abandoning it.

  After pouring myself a glass, I happily gulped down the contents. I had no idea what type of red wine it was, courtesy of the nature of the five-dollar bottle, but I was relieved it was a half-decent one. Ten seconds later and a glass of wine down, I made up my mind. Sod it. I could treat myself.

  With practically a skip in my step as I headed to my room, determined to keep the happy buzz warming me from my good week and the wine, I threw on a pair of boardies and a singlet. I headed out of the apartment and made the short walk into town.

  One of the reasons why I chose the location was because of the easy walking distance; the other being I’d managed to get a half-decent rental deal from a friend of a friend. I liked the area. Yeah, it was a little touristy, so you never quite knew who would be milling around, but there were plenty of stores around, and many knew me as a local, which I enjoyed. Plus, it was fairly LGBTIQ friendly, which made the noisy plumbing and tiny bedroom worth it.

  As I edged closer into town, I mulled over my options. Noodles were by far the cheapest option, plus Xiu Mei, who worked there, was always chatty. I walked past The Tavern, Rangoli’s, and my local grocers, throwing a cheery smile at a few passers-by, but no one I knew. Sliding open the glass door of Wok Me, I immediately spotted Xiu Mei. “Hey,” I called out in greeting as I made my way to the counter.

  “Hey, Seb. How’re things?” She threw me a smile with her greeting as she continued to prep orders.

  “Really great, thanks. I’ve just finished my first week at my new job.”

  She passed an order to her dad before returning to me. “That’s awesome. Where you working?”

  “Over in Marcoola, at one of the bars there.”

  She tilted her head. “Which one?”

  “Bar QK,” I answered. “But I’m not bartending. Admin.”

  Xiu Mei bagged an order before calling out, “Forty-two?” A young couple made their way over, collected their food, and said thanks before leaving. “Really?” she then said, her excitement taking me by surprise. Wide-eyed, she looked at me as though impressed. A weird wriggling of her eyebrows up and down followed. “A bar filled with hotties, right?”

  A snort freed itself from my bemused face, which was never pretty, but if she only knew just how hot some of the staff were, let alone the patrons—and that was just during the day. “Possibly. No idea what that”—I gestured to her brows—“is for though.”

  She leaned closer, no doubt so her dad and the family waiting for their order couldn’t hear. “Well, there’s been a few regulars who come here for noodles every now and then, and I have to say, Seb, holy shit. There are a few in particular that are so damn hot I have to go and stand in our huge fridge for ten minutes after they leave.” She shook her head, grinning. “Lord knows what Dad thinks.”

  I snorted, imagining what Mr Chen would have to say about his daughter fantasising over regulars at the bar. “Hold on, how do you know they go to QK?” I asked, bemused. While Bar QK was a gay bar and hosted drag shows, which I’d yet to see, it wasn’t like regulars wore a badge or anything.

  “Staff with branded logos on their shirts for a start, and haven’t you seen the merchandise?”

  Puzzled, I shook my head. Merchandise?

  “How do you not know this? It’s got the reputation for the best gay bar—” Her face twisted in thought. “Actually, it might be the only gay bar I know of this side of Brisbane.”

  “It really is great.”

  She grinned at me. “Look at you, being all loyal and adorable.”

  “I am not adorable,” I responded indignantly, not even bothering to straighten up so I appeared taller. My height had been the bane of my existence growing up. Now, not so much. I owned my height. Didn’t mean the ridiculous digs occasionally sent my way didn’t sometimes get to me. It was one of the reasons why I’d never been in Bar QK until that night with Harriet.

  She’d been surprised when I told her I was a QK virgin. But when I explained to her humans in general could be arseholes, not just the straight ones, and one too many times I’d been harassed in a gay bar, she’d been sweetly indignant on my behalf. She also, much to my horror, had told me it was her big brother’s bar and she’d put him straight—so to speak—and make sure all arseholes were banned. She was lovely, if not a tad naïve. “It could be my new boss who you’re swooning over.”

  Xiu Mei’s mouth gaped. “Is he that hot?” she whisper-hissed.

  “I never said—”

  “You mentioned swooning.”

  I pressed my lips together so as not to laugh loudly and draw Mr Chen’s attention to us.

  “So, really, is he hot? Your boss?”

  I considered the question. While I already knew the answer was a hell yes, I took the time to visualise Elijah—hardly a hardship. Smirking when I thought about his toned body, his deep-brown eyes, and his stubbled jaw, I nodded. “He really is.”

  “Okay, Seb, seriously, next time you have a night out there, take me with you.”

  That time I snickered. I could imagine Xiu going to town in a place like bar QK. She’d be in her element. She’d already told me one too many times there was safety in swooning over gay guys. I sort of got her weirdness. It was one of the reasons I liked her.

  Mr Chen coughed, and Xiu Mei attempted to look like she was busy and actually did collect my order. She handed it to her dad.

  Xiu Mei was the last person I would expect to want to come out drinking though. She’d always been friendly, and we’d even caught up over a couple of coffees when we’d run into each other in town, but her dad was super strict. She was still at uni and liv
ed at home, partly so she could still help her parents and her big sister run the noodle bar. I’d invited her out a couple of times for a surf after she’d said she’d wanted to learn, but she’d always said no.

  Once in front of me, she looked at me expectantly. “Erm, sure,” I said, “if you can make it. I don’t think it’s going to be a regular thing or anything though. I’ve only been there once for a night out because a couple of friends dragged me along with them.” It was true. My friend Sid had called me up begging me to come, saying he needed a hand in controlling his friend Matty while celebrating Harriet’s birthday. And I’d understood why. While I didn’t know Matty all that well, I knew he had a habit of speaking his mind. That had been obvious immediately when we’d entered the bar and he’d started interviewing the bartender about how to star in his very own drag show. He proceeded to discuss the benefits of wearing women’s undies—much to his boyfriend’s and Sid’s amusement.

  Matty’s brother-in-law, Drake, though, had been horrified, while a stunned Elijah had looked mildly amused after controlling his facial expressions. His eyes had held warmth when he’d looked at our small group as we’d entered into his domain.

  It was that warmth heating his stunning eyes that had immediately drawn me to him. I’d then ended up spending virtually the whole night chatting to him. By the end of it, not only had I got a new job and a crush, but it was the first night in so long that my fears and dreary memories had abated. I realised that Elijah had brought out the best in me, beckoned out the old me, the one who was carefree and relaxed and could chat for Queensland.

  What was more, I liked that feeling so damn much—the old me pushing to the surface. I hated the thought of letting it go.

  “Well, when it happens, please, please, please let me know.” I refocused on Xiu Mei. Her eyes were lit with excitement, innocence radiating from her.

  God, was I ever that young? That hopeful?

  “Sure thing.” And I would make an effort—well, if I ever got the courage to take a night out, and once I was sure that the regulars who attended the bar were as cool as I hoped they were.

  After paying for my order and finally collecting it, I waved my goodbye, calling out thanks to Mr Chen. He nodded in my direction, offering me a small smile. There was not a chance in hell he’d be letting Xiu Mei head out for a night at a gay bar with me.

  Three

  Elijah

  For the past month, I’d been going out of my mind. My dick was constantly hard, I was getting pissy with my staff, and wherever I turned, I saw Seb, or at least remnants of him. What didn’t help was that I was dealing with a couple of incidents involving hateful graffiti—once on the bar door, the other on the side wall of the building. To say I was livid was an understatement. It had also finally made me pull my finger out and get a security camera at the front of the building.

  And I wasn’t the only business impacted. In our small community, there were a few LGBTQ+ establishments around that had been hit. There had been nothing too serious. Though every slur had my nerve endings firing. The police had been informed and had taken a bunch of statements. But as yet, nothing had become of it.

  Complacency was dangerous. I’d let my guard down after having a couple incident-free years. And while I suspected it was shithead kids simply stirring things up, the reality was this bar was my livelihood, as well as the six full-time and eight part-time staff who relied on their jobs.

  If our punters felt at risk and vulnerable, then we’d be screwed. It wasn’t like we were raking it in. After wages and overheads, I had enough to save a little, but not enough to take me on a round-the-world trip or anything.

  I’d already wasted hours reporting the slurs to the police and scrubbing paint. And while I’d have liked to brush off the minor incidents, every alarm bell I had was ringing to the point my head was killing. Considering my unease, it wasn’t that much of a shock when my concerns came to fruition. It just so happened to be Seb who bore the brunt of it.

  He stood before me, splattered in red paint, his hands shaking, and a tight smile plastered to his face. From what I knew about Seb, it was anger causing the tremble through him. “Honestly, I’m fine.” The ring of the office phone had his head spinning in that direction.

  “Take a seat.”

  “I’m covered in paint.”

  “Sit.”

  His head snapped in my direction. Seb lifted his brows in surprise, and my dick took note that there was more than that one emotion playing on his face. Incredulous. Yeah, that was the word for it.

  “Am I a dog?” There was no laughter or amusement in his tone or the stare he directed my way. But my demand had stopped the shaking hands, so there was that.

  “Please,” I offered with a smirk. “Carla will get it.”

  He sighed, but it sounded defeated. It wasn’t a reaction I liked on him. While I’d tried my hardest to keep my distance from Seb over the past month, whenever he was here, we spent time with each other in some form or other. I knew full well my version of “trying my hardest” was bull. My blue balls meant I was usually the one to seek him out.

  I’d started craving time with him. Not only was he stunning, in that fierce, cute way of his, but he was also brilliantly quirky, and hilarious to boot. He wasn’t always aware when he was being funny, but it was that part of him that was so effortless that had me sniffing around him as often as possible.

  What was worse, it seemed everyone who worked at the bar, Carla included, knew it. Seb was the only one who appeared clueless of the effect he had on me. I shook my head as I stared down at him, struggling to understand the pull and not quite sure if I wanted to risk the chase or not.

  Seb cradled a mug of tea. Carla had brought it over to him to try to ease his shaking hands and bring colour back into his cheeks. When he’d returned from the post office empty-handed, pale, and covered in a fair amount of paint, I’d dropped everything. Literally dropped a crate on the ground as I’d stalked towards him.

  “Feeling more together?” I watched Seb carefully. While I didn’t know all his tells, I was becoming good at reading his eyes and smile.

  Seb released a breath and looked down at his half-empty mug. “Sort of.” The words sounded reluctant. But I was impressed with his honesty.

  “I’m trying really hard here, but I’ve gotta know what happened exactly.” Despite my tight jaw and gritted teeth, my voice was deceptively calm. Seb had yet to tell us anything that had happened. I only knew something had gone down because of the obvious. The bright red paint staining his clothes, the drops on his skin, were impossible to ignore.

  As he nodded, his eyes found mine. Relief settled in my chest when strength stared back at me. Damn, he was gorgeous. “I heard the car pull over right beside me, so I looked in that direction. He started by just saying hello. I just assumed he was asking for directions or something.” I bobbed my head in understanding, urging him to continue. “He seemed friendly. Just a kid really. Can’t have been older than twenty-one, asked if the bar was any good, if I worked here.” He paused and blew out an unsteady breath. “I didn’t think anything about it until he asked if I was a girl and liked to take it.”

  Heat punched into my chest. I froze, willing myself to calm down and not lose my shit. “What sort of car was he driving?”

  Rather than answer, Seb continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “A girl.” He scrunched his nose and shook his head. “What, just because I’m not seven fucking foot tall and don’t have a beard? I swear, I am so over little homop—”

  “Seb, baby, please focus.”

  His mouth dropped to an O, and a light blush covered his cheeks. The first I’d spotted on him since we’d met. “Yeah, sorry, okay, a white Holden. An older model. It was beat up and—” Seb cut himself off and went wide-eyed before saying distractedly, “The mess. It’ll need clearing up and—”

  “It’s okay. Go on,” I said, internally cringing at my slip-up.

  He bobbed his head, fierce resolve in his eyes
, his muscles bunching under his tee the more worked up he was getting. “Okay, well, I don’t know. His friend, who I hadn’t really noticed before, said something, and they started laughing. He angled his body away from the window and I assumed he was about to pull away so I turned my back anyway to get the hell away—” He cleared his throat before continuing, “—but then he called out, and then I saw the red just coming at me. It took me a moment to realise what it was. I had a serious Carrie moment.” The pink in his cheeks turned a bright red at this point. The anger reassured me. It was a damn sight better than him being frightened.

  “Shit,” he continued, “I’m sorry. I dropped the package. I’ll go back—”

  “Jesus, Seb. It’s fine.” He blanched at my hard voice. I needed to get my head straight, but it was so difficult knowing Seb had been in that situation. Yet unbelievably, he was still worried about everyone else, which was something I’d quickly discovered about the man before me. He was selfless and kind. “It’s no big deal,” I clarified. “Lenny will head out and look, but if it’s gone, it really is no big deal, okay?”

  He twisted his mouth, uncertainty etched on his face.

  “Hey.” I reached out and palmed his cheek, brushing his cheekbone softly with the pad of my thumb. “All I meant was nothing in that parcel is more important than you, okay?” I lifted my brows and waited for an acknowledgment, so very aware this was the first time I’d touched him like this. He nodded. “We all care about you and hate you were in that situation.”

  Focusing on Seb’s wide, bright eyes, I asked, “And what happened after that? He say anything else?”

  “He told me I should consider getting therapy. That was before he snorted at himself like a dickhead, then drove off.” Not once did Seb’s tone dip, his voice break, or did he lose eye contact as he recounted what happened. His strength echoed in every syllable and every slow, even breath. I, however, wanted to rip the guys’ goddamn heads off—whoever they might be. “I didn’t get the registration.” He shrugged.