OUTCAST: A Good Guys Novel

by Jamie Schlosser

  I set her down so she’d have better access. And also, I needed both of my hands to be free for what I wanted to do.

  Mirroring her actions, I slipped a hand under her silky shirt and didn’t stop my ascent until I reached the underwire of her bra. Brushing my thumb back and forth over the soft cup, I could feel how hard her nipple was behind the thin padding.

  If I thought my hard-on was bad before, that was nothing compared to now.

  I was literally seconds away from coming in my pants from my first experience with a girl. Apparently handholding, kissing, and almost making it to second base was enough to bring me to the edge.

  In a bold move, Kayla grabbed my ass and pressed our bodies together even tighter. Her hip rubbed against my erection, and my balls drew up tight to my body.

  Swallowing hard, I paused, still cupping her bra-covered breast.

  Control. I needed to get control of myself, because I was about to come. I could feel the urge building, tingling, tightening.

  I slowly drew in a breath and screwed my eyes shut, while trying to think about anything except squeezing Kayla’s perky tit.

  I wondered what color her nipples were. Would they be pink like her lips? Or darker like her skin?

  Shit. That was only making things worse.

  Three loud thuds startled us apart, and a shout came through the other side of the door. “Time’s up! Better get decent in there.”

  The music stopped, and our harsh breathing was the only sound filling the dark space.

  I’d never been more relieved, yet so disappointed in my life. I didn’t want this to end, but I’d just been saved from what could’ve been a humiliating event.

  “Can you hear my heart?” Kayla whispered, picking up my hand and putting it over the middle of her chest.

  I could feel it thundering under my palm, and the erratic rhythm matched my own racing pulse.

  “It sounds like mine.” I pressed her hand to my sternum, allowing her to feel it, too.

  Suddenly, the door swung open, throwing light into the small space, causing both of us to squint.

  Completely absorbed in the moment, neither of us paid attention to the irritating guy insisting our time was up.

  Hands on each other’s hearts, swollen lips, eyes locked.

  This wasn’t meant to be romantic. The setting was far from perfect.

  But there in that dingy coat closet, I experienced the most romantic, most perfect night of my life.

  I was starting to regret asking for the early shift at Rocky’s. When I’d gotten hired, three mornings a week didn’t seem so bad. But due to short staffing, the four-hour shifts had multiplied.

  After staying out late last night, I’d been looking forward to sleeping in. My plans were thwarted when my phone chirped at 5:30 with an urgent text from Rocky himself, saying one of the other new girls hadn’t shown up.

  And so I’d found myself driving there, bleary-eyed, just as the sun was coming up.

  Distracted and tired, I’d been struggling to stay clear-headed all morning. I didn’t know the job well enough to just go through the motions.

  “Well, shit,” I whispered, staring at the coffee station. “Shit, shit, shit.”

  I’d accidentally put decaf in the wrong machine. The only option was to remake it, because I wasn’t about to ruin someone’s day.

  “Such language,” Rocky cheerfully exclaimed as he walked by. “I’ll let it go since you’re one of my favorite employees.”

  I smiled. “You’re only saying that because I cover for everyone.”

  “Damn straight.”

  The portly gray-haired man turned the corner, and I shook my head in amusement. Despite having to work way more hours than I’d signed up for, I liked my boss. He was patient with all my mess-ups, and with his beard and brown eyes, he reminded me of a shorter, older replica of Rob.

  Sighing, I dumped the coffee pots and got out the grinder to make more.

  Caffeine withdrawal was serious. One time, John had picked up the wrong coffee at the store and both of my dads were super crabby all week. They’d suffered headaches and petty arguments, until Rob noticed the decaf label on the container. To this day, they still joked that the caffeine famine had almost caused a divorce.

  I poured two mugs, then hustled to the kitchen to get the order for table six. Or was it seven? Shit. Shit. Shit.

  I kept my profanity to myself this time. Scrambling with my notepad, I confirmed that it was, in fact, table six and hauled ass while praying I didn’t drop my tray.

  It was safe to say I hadn’t gotten the hang of things yet, and I was starting to worry that I never would. Constantly switching from one task to another made my mind a jumbled, forgetful mess.

  It didn’t help that I was walking around with my head in the clouds today—totally Ezra’s fault and I couldn’t have been happier about that. My mind kept drifting to our first kiss last night. Or first kisses, plural.

  The disappointment at our closet time ending had been brutal. Just those few minutes alone with him had revved my body up to an arousal level I didn’t even know was possible.

  After we rejoined the rest of the party, I didn’t remove my hand from Ezra’s until we left. And when I drove him back to his apartment, a silence filled with want and need and more stretched between us. The tension in the air was so thick I could feel it.

  Then he’d left me with the promise of a date tonight and a chaste kiss before disappearing into his apartment.

  The ache in my feet brought me back to the present.

  Trying to push my daydreams away, I picked up the pace, sending smiles to a few customers as I cleared their plates. It was time to work, and fantasizing about my date with Ezra wasn’t going to earn me any tips.

  The morning at the restaurant had been particularly busy, but things were starting to slow down before the lunch crowd hit. I made rounds to my tables one last time, topping off coffees and giving out checks.

  Shauna, one of the regulars, flagged me down as I walked past her booth by the window.

  “I’ve got your check and to-go order right here,” I told her as I placed them on the table.

  “Thank you. I was so glad they sat me in your section. If not, I was going to complain,” she said with a lighthearted laugh.

  I wasn’t sure if she was serious or joking, but it made me chuckle.

  She’d been one of my first customers when I was shadowing the manager, trying to learn the ropes. My first couple shifts here were just about as bad as my Pinterest fails. Not only had I gotten Shauna’s order wrong, but I’d also spilled her drink on the tabletop. She’d just smiled patiently and after she left, I found a twenty-dollar tip along with a note scribbled on the receipt. ‘We all start somewhere. Keep up the good work.’

  I’d been so touched by it, I teared up a little.

  Since then, she was here almost every morning, always alone and ordering the same thing: the hangover platter and tea.

  She didn’t look hungover, though. Her dark hair was always perfectly shaped into a neat bob, and her cocoa-colored skin was radiant and makeup-free. The white pantsuit and silver hoop earrings made her seem elegant and professional. This was a woman who had her shit together.

  Although she’d told me she was in her early fifties, she didn’t look a day past forty. Laugh lines and crow’s feet were the only evidence of her age—a sign of a life well-lived with lots of smiles.

  And boy, did she smile a lot.

  “I’ll tell you a secret.” Returning her smile, I leaned toward her and discreetly pointed at the brunette waitress speed-walking to the kitchen. “Megan’s been here for two years, and she’s a pro. She’s the one you want.”

  “Nonsense. You’re really getting the hang of things around here.” She beamed at me proudly.

  I laughed because I’d just been thinking the opposite.

  “I’m trying,” I said wryly. “It’s fast-paced, that’s for sure.”

  “Some of the best jobs are.�
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  “What is it you do again?” I asked.

  We’d had a brief conversation about her occupation a couple days ago, but I was so scatterbrained all I could remember was that she was in town on business.

  “I do a lot of things, but right now I’m an interior decorator. I’m helping a friend of mine with some office renovations.”

  “That’s sort of artistic, right? The guy I’m seeing is an art major at the university.” Oh, geez. Was I becoming one of those girls who bragged about her man all the time, even when people didn’t ask? I guess so.

  Shauna let out a whistle. “Young love, huh? I remember those days.”

  “Yeah.” I let out a bashful chuckle.

  “What about you? What kind of classes are you taking?”

  “A couple basics—English and psychology. And some sciences because I’m a kinesiology major. I’d like to be a physical therapist.” I didn’t add that it was because of Ezra. It probably wasn’t healthy to build your entire life around someone you just started dating.

  “That’s a wonderful occupation,” she praised. “You’re going to be great at that.”

  I could tell she really meant it, and her confidence gave me the warm fuzzies.

  Growing up with two dads and having a guy for a best friend meant I didn’t have a strong female presence in my life. I could’ve sought out female friendships in school, but I hadn’t been too interested in that.

  I never felt like I was lacking anything, though.

  John and Rob fulfilled their roles, providing more than just necessities. I had ears to listen when I wanted to talk. Arms to hold me when I needed a hug.

  And they let me figure out who I was, indulging my dreams, even when my interest of the month was just a passing phase.

  When I wanted to play baseball, they put me in little league, and when I decided I hated it, they let me quit and try ballet instead. And when I sucked at ballet, they entertained my short-lived dream of being a world-famous concert pianist. Then there were tennis lessons, gymnastics, and that one summer I scored a minor role in the local theater company’s production of Les Miserables.

  All of that led to me being a jack-of-all-trades kid. Not particularly great at any one thing, but well-rounded nonetheless.

  I’d gotten used to being average, but Shauna made me feel like I had life by the balls.

  She slid the black booklet my way. “Keep the change. I’ll see you later.”

  I watched her go, soaking up her positivity like a sponge.

  She was so optimistic and just so… nice.

  Apparently, she was also loaded. Every time she came here, she’d left me a hefty tip, each one bigger than the last.

  When I flipped the booklet open, I gawked down at the crisp one-hundred-dollar bill.

  No way. It was too much.

  Craning my neck to look out the window, I saw Shauna standing at the corner crosswalk. Before she could get too far away, I dashed out the door and caught up to her.

  “Shauna, wait.”

  She turned, smiling of course, and I extended the money to her. “I can’t accept this.”

  “Sure you can. You deserve it.”

  Shaking my head, I tried to shove it at her again. “No, I don’t. It’s really generous of you, but I’m not that good at my job.”

  “Kindness and generosity are always better together—remember that.”

  “Wh—what?” I stuttered, astounded by her statement.

  “Someone can be kind without being generous, or generous without being kind.” Placing her smooth hand over my fingers, she closed my fist around the bill. “Remember—better together.”

  With a wink and a soft pat to my shoulder, she crossed the street, leaving me standing there with my jaw hanging open.

  Gratefulness overwhelmed me as I looked down at the money. Now I had enough to pay the private investigator the remainder of what I owed, which meant I would get the answers I wanted weeks sooner than I’d estimated.

  As I gripped the handle of the glass door to Rocky’s, I glanced back just in time to see Shauna crouching next to a homeless man sitting against a vacant building with a cardboard sign. I was too far away to read what it said, but he looked defeated. Shoulders slumped, head down.

  Shauna spoke to him for several seconds before handing him her to-go container. The grin he sent her was wide and real.

  Since Shauna was in the middle of the sidewalk, people had to walk around her, making it impossible for the homeless man to be overlooked. One woman paused at the scene and dropped some money into a plastic bucket at his side.

  Shauna beamed up at the woman, giving her the kind of smile that made a person feel ten feet tall.

  Her actions caused a ripple effect. A little boy dragged his mother over so he could say hello. The homeless man stood up, reached into his beat-up jeans, and pulled out a yellow yo-yo.

  With practiced movements, he performed some smooth tricks, drawing attention from more onlookers. A few more people stopped to exchange words and I think one guy gave the homeless man a granola bar.

  My admiration for Shauna grew tenfold. She didn’t just give the man food; she also offered him conversation and human contact. She made him visible.

  Without her there, anyone else might’ve passed him by. Maybe tossed their change in his direction, making sure their fingers never brushed.

  Shame clogged my throat as I dropped my eyes to the pavement at my feet. Because I would’ve done the latter.

  But I could do better from now on.

  A few college guys exiting Rocky’s snapped me out of my staring, and I went inside to finish up my shift.

  Knowing I’d learned a valuable life-lesson I never would’ve gotten from any classroom, I cleaned my tables and hung up my black apron. Then I put together a Styrofoam cup of ice water and counted out several dollars in change for the homeless man. Thanks to Shauna, I could spare a few.

  As I left the restaurant, late August heat blasted me, causing immediate perspiration on my forehead as I approached the man. He was still pulling out yo-yo tricks, though most of the crowd from before had dissipated.

  “You must be burning up sitting out here in the sun,” I told him, looking him in the eye as I handed over the money and the cup. I gestured to the yo-yo. “You’re crazy talented with that thing.”

  “Thanks. My son always loved it.” A sadness passed over his face and I knew there was a story there. Maybe he was estranged from his family. Maybe he’d lost people he loved in a tragedy.

  I didn’t want to pry, so I focused on the present. “How are you today?”

  His face lit up at my question. Deep laugh lines formed around his crooked grin and true happiness emanated from his shaggy face. His wrinkled, weathered skin and the two missing teeth was evidence of a hard life, but he held up his water like he was celebrating a memorable event.

  “This is the best day I’ve had in a long time.”

  And now I knew what it felt like to do something meaningful, even if it was small.

  Shauna was right—kindness and generosity are always better together.

  As I walked the long way to Kayla’s dorm, Pierre trotted happily at my side. I went at a leisurely pace because I didn’t want to be all sweaty for our date.

  Our first official date. One that didn’t involve large crowds or stinky closets.

  I was loving the fact that we both had Tuesday afternoons free. It seemed like that was just about the only time our schedules synced up during the week, and I planned to take advantage of it.

  Students filled the sidewalks, heading in different directions. Some people—especially girls—gawked at Pierre like he was the cutest thing ever.

  I’d quickly learned that there weren’t many pets on campus, so he was a hot commodity.

  I gave polite smiles to the ones who ooed and awed at him, but kept walking to discourage people from petting him. It wasn’t their fault for not realizing they weren’t supposed to do that. Nothing about his
plain red collar and leash said he was a service dog—and that was how I wanted it to stay. Still, I couldn’t let years of hard training get derailed.

  Norman Hall came into view and Kayla was already waiting for me outside. Her outfit was different today. Not quite as dressed-up as last night, but a little fancier than her casual style.

  The gray sleeveless top she wore was low-cut, with sparkly sequins lining the hint of cleavage she had on display. She had on dark skinny jeans and tennis shoes. Although I refused to tell her where we were going, I’d told her flip-flips weren’t going to cut it.

  Her hair was natural but more tamed, the curls a little glossier than when she just let it air dry. Mascara made her eyes appear bigger, lip gloss made her mouth look fuller, and blush highlighted her cheekbones.

  It was obvious she’d taken time to look good for our date, but it wasn’t necessary. She was beautiful all the time.

  Standing from the bench, she waved excitedly as she slung her purse over her shoulder.

  I responded by hiking my chin in a masculine nod of acknowledgement, going for cool and calm. I’d seen Jimmy do it hundreds of times, and it always seemed to work for him.

  After last night, I wasn’t sure how to navigate my new relationship with Kayla. My knowledge about this stuff was limited to pretty much zero. Was a hug appropriate? Should I kiss her? Grab her ass? Because damn, that ass.

  I was still contemplating how to greet her when she made the decision for me. Rising on her toes, she pressed her lips to mine for a brief kiss, and my free arm settled around her in a half-hug.

  “Hi.” She tried to step back, but my hand automatically tightened on her waist to pull her back in.

  To hell with it—I decided to grab her ass.

  As her supple backside filled my palm, a growl rumbled low in my throat. I dipped back down to her mouth, my tongue seeking hers. She squeaked, surprised, but returned the kiss with vigor despite the people swarming around us.

  This thing between us was so powerful. Natural. All-consuming.

  I’d spent so much time fantasizing about being with her this way, now that I’d had a taste my control was unraveling.