by Andi Van
The best part of our Sunday morning antics, though, was that Jordan liked to buy me breakfast when we were done. So on that Sunday, the week after Mari sent those first texts, we dragged our tired asses into our favorite twenty-four-hour diner, not caring that we looked like we’d just crawled out of bed. Since we were pretty much a permanent Sunday fixture, the early morning server actually knew us on sight, and she smiled when we walked in. It was busier than usual, and I frowned as I looked around, hoping we’d be able to get a decent table away from the crowd. I hated crowds.
“If you guys drank coffee, I’d say you need it,” Gloria commented as she motioned to another server to grab a couple of menus. “Sorry, there’s some sort of event going on at the university this weekend, so it’s kind of busy. Marcus will take care of you. Be gentle with him, he should have gone home around four.”
Considering that the guy who took the menus from Gloria was exactly my type, my brain went somewhere completely different with the “be gentle” comment. He was maybe a little taller than me and all lithe muscle. His short brown hair looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, in an impossibly sexy way, and I was grateful to be having eye candy for breakfast. Jordan must have recognized the look on my face, because he smirked at me and smacked my arm as we followed the server—Marcus—to our booth.
The booth was right behind a family with three small children. We were doomed.
By the time Marcus brought us our drinks, I’d been subjected to two screaming tantrums and one little shit standing up on his seat and yanking at a handful of my shoulder-length hair. Hard. I got that it’s unusual to see cotton-candy blue hair, but that didn’t make it a fucking toy.
“What’ll you have this morning?” Marcus asked, giving us a sympathetic look. The kid who’d grabbed my hair started shrieking as his mother, in a voice that made it clear she didn’t really care whether he listened or not, told him to behave.
“A deep and abiding hatred for humanity in general,” I growled.
“I hear you,” he said. He lowered his voice and leaned in closer. “Don’t worry. They’re almost done. I gave them their bill on my way to get your drinks.”
“Thank God,” I sighed and proceeded to order my usual. Marcus took Jordan’s order too and then paused as if he had something on his mind.
“What is it?” I asked.
“You’re Zach Blaise, aren’t you?” he asked quietly. “From the morning show at Wave 97.”
I nodded. “Are you new here?” I asked. “I haven’t seen you before.” And God knew I sure as hell would’ve remembered someone that good looking. He would have already been starring in my fantasies. “Sometimes I’m here before I go to work.”
“Just started Monday,” Marcus confirmed with a polite smile. “I transferred from the shop across town.” He turned his attention to Jordan and grinned. “You must be the infamous ‘J.’”
I never used Jordan’s full name on air or on the Internet. He was either “J” or “my roommate.” I’m sure people could figure out who he was easily enough if they really wanted to, but it was my way of giving him that little bit of privacy everyone deserves.
“So, did you really get beaten up by a ‘Save the Dolphins’ girl outside of Trader Joe’s?” Marcus asked him, that adorable grin on his face deepening, showing off a set of dimples. He had dimples. I’d officially died and gone to heaven.
Jordan groaned, and I raised my hand. “That was my fault, actually. And he didn’t get beat up so much as she took a swing at him with the clipboard that was holding her petition.”
Marcus looked like he was holding back a laugh, and it made his eyes sparkle with mischief. I was this close to begging him for mercy. The man shouldn’t be allowed to get any more attractive. “Okay, I have to ask. How did that happen?”
“I wanted an avocado,” I mumbled, feeling myself start to blush. Granted, the story was funny as hell, but it was also kind of embarrassing.
“You what?” He paused, shook his head, and looked at his order sheet. “Wait. Let me go put your order in. I get to clock out after I do, and I don’t think Gloria would mind if I joined you before I head home.”
“Fine with us,” Jordan said, grinning at me, and I could have kissed him. All right, not really, but I’d probably have been willing to bake him a cake or something.
True to his word, Marcus returned minus his apron and sat down next to me. I could feel my face heat up again, and it was probably extremely obvious considering my natural paleness. Ghosts would look tan next to me.
“Now then,” he said. “Story time. Tell me what actually happened.”
“The last avocado out of the four-pack I bought went bad before I could eat it, and I really wanted avocado on my sandwich,” I admitted after I cleared my throat. “So we went to Trader Joe’s to get another pack. As we were walking out, some girl got in my face—”
“Pretty close to literally,” Jordan interrupted. “She almost knocked him over.”
I nodded. “Right. So she almost knocks me over and demands to know if I’m ready to save the dolphins. And I kind of—completely without thinking about it, mind you—said ‘no thanks, already have one saved for lunch’ as I walked away.”
Marcus’s mouth fell open in surprise, and he stayed like that for a second before bursting into a fit of giggles. Oh dear God, he giggled.
“I mean, all I wanted was an avocado, not an environmental forum.”
Marcus dropped his head onto his arms on the table, laughing harder.
“And it wouldn’t have been so bad, except that’s when Jordan started applauding. That’s why she went after him with her clipboard.”
“She actually had to be removed from the premises,” Jordan added gleefully. “It was beautiful. So the moral of the story is ‘never get between Zach and his avocado.’”
“I actually ended up coming out of the store with four avocados and some orange juice,” I allowed. “And I thought the moral of the story was ‘never go against a Sicilian when death is on the line.’”
“Wrong story,” Jordan told me.
I really wondered at that point whether Marcus was going to lose the ability to breathe completely. When he raised his head, he had tears of mirth streaming down his face. “Oh my God,” he wheezed. “You guys are really like this. I thought the stories about you and J were just things you made up for the show.”
“I’m afraid not,” I said with an amused roll of my eyes. “If they were, I wouldn’t have gotten into so much trouble when we were growing up. He’s a bad influence.”
Marcus looked across the table at Jordan. “So you seriously Saran-Wrapped the gas station attendant’s truck, then?”
“I actually wanted to paint it purple with pink polka dots,” Jordan said with a shrug. “The guy was a douche. Zach wouldn’t let me, though. Something about destruction of property and vandalism charges. The Saran Wrap didn’t damage anything. It was just a nuisance.”
“Are you two causing more trouble?”
We looked up to see Gloria bringing out our food, and I realized that the place had cleared out quite a bit since our arrival. I’d been so focused on Marcus that I hadn’t even noticed the loud chatter had settled into a low murmur. “Not this time,” I told her as she set the plates down in front of us. “We’re simply recounting past misdeeds.”
“Don’t let them corrupt you too much,” Gloria teased Marcus. “Be here at seven tonight, okay?”
“Sure thing,” Marcus said. He smiled at her and turned his attention back to us. “I should probably let you guys eat so I can get home before I fall asleep right here. See you around?”
“Sure,” I said, half wishing he was specifically asking to see me again and not just ending the conversation. “Like I said, I eat breakfast here sometimes.”
He grinned and headed toward the door marked “Employees Only.” He paused a couple steps away to turn and look back at me. “So, have you ever had a bonfire with stuff your ex left behind?”
“Yep,” I answered unapologetically. As far as I was concerned, Tyler deserved it, and it had only been his gym clothes and a towel anyway. “You?”
“Yeah,” Marcus said, his grin getting wider. “Recently.”
When he walked away, I sighed heavily.
“What?” Jordan asked. “He obviously likes you, and if he has a recent ex, that probably means he’s single.”
“Recent ex,” I parroted back to him. “I refuse to be a rebound.”
“Even if you’re already crushing on the guy?”
“Fuck you, Walker,” I grumbled, ignoring Jordan’s laughter as I concentrated on devouring my breakfast.
ONCE WE managed to get home and I’d fallen into bed, I grabbed my phone off my nightstand. Over the course of the week, I’d gotten into the habit of saying good morning to Mari before I fell asleep.
I’m home. Passing out now. Had a fantastic morning.
As I punched my pillows into a comfortable shape, my phone buzzed.
Yeah? What happened?
Met the man of my dreams. He just got out of a relationship, though. Don’t wanna be a rebound. Been there, done that.
Maybe he’s not looking for a rebound. You should ask him. After you sleep.
Yes ma’am. Good night, Mari.
Don’t call me ma’am. Good morning, Ollie.
CHAPTER 3
WHEN I woke up that night, I had a message waiting for me from Mari.
I need to meet with you. Are you available after work?
It was an odd request, coming from her. She’d never wanted to meet me before, but maybe her ex had been giving her a hard time and she needed help. I sure as hell wasn’t going to leave her to deal with that alone. Not that I had the physical capacity to protect anyone, but I could bring Jordan with me to hide behind.
I can meet you. Are you in trouble?
She didn’t respond immediately, so I yawned and pulled myself out of bed to start running through the same routine I did every evening. By the time my phone dinged at me, I was showered, dressed, and less irritable about having to start my day.
No, but it’s important. I’ll meet you at the Starbucks near your station. You get off work at noon?
Yeah. I’ll be there.
I tossed the phone aside after my response and shrugged to myself. At least it sounded like she wasn’t in any particular danger. I’ve had exes who have made me extremely glad I always had someone at my back when I faced them, and I didn’t want anyone else to have to deal with a similar situation without support.
I headed for the kitchen to get some tea, and Jordan was already there. “I’m heading out soon,” he told me. “We’re out of milk, but I left you some eggs, if you want breakfast.”
“I’ll stop at the store on the way home, unless you do it first,” I said. “I was thinking of going to the diner for breakfast, though.”
Jordan snickered, and I glared at him as I stuck my cup in the microwave. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh, nothing,” Jordan said, snickering again. “Just you and your crush on Marcus.” He practically sang the name, and I wondered briefly how much it would hurt him if I threw my container of powdered creamer at him. He was always telling me how gross I was to put it in my tea. As far as I was concerned, he deserved to be wearing it.
“I don’t have a crush on him,” I protested. “He’s a lovely bit of eye candy, but talking to a guy for half an hour isn’t enough time for me to develop a crush.”
Jordan raised an eyebrow at me, and I could feel myself go red. Dammit. I loved him and all, but sometimes I really hated how well he knew me.
“Okay, maybe I have a tiny crush on him,” I allowed. “I mean, really, did you not see him? Did you not notice what a great personality he had on top of all that hotness?”
“I could see how someone would be attracted to him,” Jordan said with a nod. “But I was watching your face more than I was checking him out. You have a crush.”
“A little one,” I said, measuring a tiny space with my index finger and thumb. “That’s all.”
“Uh huh.” Jordan’s tone was completely unconvinced, but at least it sounded like he was going to let it go for now. “Don’t worry about going to the store. I’ll do it. Text me if you think of anything you need.”
“Sure, thanks. Oh, and I’ll be late getting home. Mari asked me to meet her after work.”
“Really? Huh.” Jordan’s surprise pretty much mirrored my reaction to the request. He shrugged as a grin took over his mouth. “Ask her if she’s available yet.”
I snorted and shooed him away with a hand. “Go to work.”
He snickered as he walked away, leaving me to drink my tea and wake up in peace.
By the time I finished waking up, I decided that showing up at the diner for my breakfast would be a little too much like stalking, and I wasn’t the stalker type. Much. I might also have been pouting over the fact that Jordan had been laughing at me, but that wasn’t something I ever would have admitted out loud.
So I ate my eggs and toast, grumbling to myself the entire time. I headed to work to spend the early morning in a less-than-stellar mood as my brain went back and forth about how I should have just given in to my initial urge to eat out. Kat ended up smacking me twice during commercial breaks in an effort to get me to focus on the job.
Seriously, noon could not have come fast enough that day.
When I finally left work—with Kat yelling at me to not come back until I’d pulled the stick out of my ass and me yelling back that it wasn’t a stick I had up there—I very grumpily made my way to the nearby Starbucks. I was so distracted I didn’t even take the time to flirt with my favorite barista, like I usually did. Instead, I just ordered my chai and found a seat that gave me a clear view of the door. I had no idea what Mari looked like, but I assumed she’d know me when she saw me, considering there were photos of Kat and me plastered all over the station’s website.
As I was drinking my chai and keeping one eye on the door, I was surprised to see Marcus walk in, looking extremely nervous. It made me wonder if he was meeting someone, and that made me a little out of sorts. It would be just my luck to have to watch my current crush with a date, but then I was the one who said I wasn’t interested in someone on the rebound. I was beginning to think I’d kind of lied to myself on that point.
Surprisingly he caught sight of me and headed straight for my table. My stomach fluttered, and I found myself thinking that I didn’t want to have to ask him for privacy when Mari showed up. Maybe I could ask him to meet me somewhere else once Mari and I had talked.
“Hey,” he said nervously.
“Hey,” I answered. “Meeting someone?” I hoped he’d say no.
“Yeah.”
Dammit. I felt the smile slide off my face, but he kept talking.
“I’m meeting you. Because I thought about it all yesterday, and I didn’t want it to come back and bite me in the ass when you found out.”
When I…. What? I was missing something. I gave him a perplexed look and shook my head. “I don’t understand.”
Marcus took a deep breath, then let it out slowly before he took a seat next to me—much to my delight—and pulled out a notebook. He wrote something down and pushed it toward me. I blinked as I stared at his words and how he’d written them, emphasizing particular letters.
Marcus Ian Edwards. Marian.
“And now you know why I told you not to call me ma’am.”
I stared at him for a long minute as my brain caught up with what he was saying. When it finally hit me, I felt my face go red. “Oh my God, the texts I sent last night….”
Marcus nodded, and I was surprised by the amount of trepidation I could see on his face. “When I realized you were talking about me, it felt really wrong to let you keep thinking Marian was a girl. I was enjoying just being able to talk to someone, you know? You’re fun to talk to. And then I met you yesterday and….” He sighed, shrugging slightly. “It just seemed wrong to
keep up the charade once you’d met me in person. And for the record, I’m not looking for a rebound. Don’t get me wrong. I’m interested, but I’d rather spend some time getting to know you first.”
I was speechless. Not only because of the revelation that he was the person I’d been speaking to for a week—though that was obviously a rather big shock—but also because I wasn’t sure I would have been so honest so quickly if I’d been in his place. It said a lot about his integrity.
“Are you mad?” he asked me.
I shook my head quickly. “No,” I told him. “No, I’m just surprised. Wrapping my brain around it, you know?” I gestured at the counter with a nod and smiled at him. “Go get a drink. When you come back, we can talk.”
I could see the tension melt away from him, and he gave me a smile that made my heart thump a little harder. God, that smile should have been illegal. I sipped my chai and watched him as he stood in line, smugly pleased when he didn’t take the time to flirt with the hot barista either.
When he sat down in the seat next to me he set a blueberry scone in front of me and smiled. “So, tell me about the real Ollie.”
I rolled my eyes, though I was grinning. “You’re still going to call me that?”
“Yep,” he answered unapologetically. “Now spill.”
“Not much to tell,” I said with a shrug. “Two parents who are still happily married and one less-than-friendly older brother. He makes his slurs vague in front of my parents, but he’s kind of an asshole.”
“Your parents are okay with you being gay, though?” he asked, curious.
I nodded. “I never really came out. It was just kind of an established fact. My mom says she knew from the time I was around four.” I made a face as I plucked off a piece of the scone and popped it in my mouth. “My brother was cool with it until I hit fourteen and started my freshman year. I guess seventeen was the magic age for him to turn into a complete jackass. I can’t decide whether it’s because of an issue that came up with his best friend at the time or if it’s because he’s in the closet. Or maybe he really did just turn into a jerk overnight, but I don’t really want to believe that.”