Noa starts up the truck and backs out of the driveway. “Honestly, I have a great staff. It kind of all came together way better than I could have hoped for. The managers take care of all the shifts, and I mostly oversee all running parts. I work a lot, but I make time for a personal life too. It’s all possible.”
“That’s fantastic. Lea seems like a great woman. I’m happy for you, man.”
“She really is, and very understanding too. I’m lucky to have her.”
“Understanding because of your schedule?” I ask.
“Well, that’s one reason. Yeah,” Noa says while pulling out onto the highway.
“What’s the other reason?” I press. I can’t help feeling like I’m missing something, or not reading clearly between the lines.
Noa takes in a deep breath and holds it, letting me know that there is, in fact, something he’s about to say. “Did I mention the type of restaurant I run?”
“No, but I suppose I should have asked when you told me how much money your waiters are making in tips. I knew it had to be too good to be true, so spill it.”
“It’s nothing illegal. So … don’t worry about that.”
“Good to know,” I tell him, resting my head back against the seat. “Okay, then what? Is it a strip club or something?”
“No, no, no man, not a strip club.”
“It’s not illegal, and it’s not a strip club. This is a hell of a riddle, man. I’m stumped.”
“You’re getting closer,” he says.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I’m also getting irritated. I’m not signing up for anything shady whether it’s illegal or not. I’ve got Aya to care for, and I need to make money in a legit way. “Just spit it out.”
As I spew out my last demand, we pull into a newly paved parking lot with a huge ass—pun fucking intended—sign that tells me everything I need to know. “Man Buns?” I laugh. It’s uncontrollable. “No fucking way,” I tell him.
“You don’t even know what it is,” he huffs. “It’s a gold mine, Den.”
“Well, let’s see here, Noa. I’m looking at a larger-than-life sign with two men, and their asses are covered with burger buns. Go ahead and explain, please. I’m sure this gets way better.”
“Look, all you have to do is walk around with tight shorts and no shirt. You did it for eight years, you sexy devil, you.” He winks at me like that’s going to make me change my mind about this. “Come on. You can handle it now.”
“I did it for eight years?” I question. Never mind. I see where he’s going with that. “I wasn’t shirtless.”
“Never,” he croons. “I never saw you running around shirtless in your ass-kissing silky shorts.” Those were my younger days, that’s how everyone walked around the barracks. We were all dudes. Who gave a shit?
“You’re holding that against me?” I ask.
“No, I’m holding you up to it,” he replies.
“You’re out of your damn mind. You know that? You need help or something. What the hell where you thinking? This is like … this is just dumb.”
“Please, just give me one night,” Noa begs.
He’s actually begging me. If his staff is getting paid so well, I wouldn’t think he’d need to be looking for applicants. This makes no sense. “Is begging your game? Is that how you got your fiancée to say yes?’”
He mouths the word, “Ouch,” and waves his hand around like I burnt him. “No, I didn’t ask her for one night. I asked her for one more night, and then the rest of her nights, and all that romantic gushy stuff.”
I sigh and throw my head back. “What gave you this idea? Seriously. I mean—” I point up at the billboard. “This is—”
“A moneymaker,” he says. “I’m telling you, bro, chicks dig this shit. It’s like having the Magic Micks of the world serving you the best burgers in the area!”
“Magic Mick?”
“Copyright Infringement,” he says. “I try not to say the real name. Don’t want to get sued.”
“It’s just us in the truck,” I tell him.
“You just never know,” he says, looking around like he’s paranoid. He’s lost his mind. That’s all I can chalk this up to.
“Okay, well—” I want to turn around and get the hell away from this restaurant, but I did what I could to save up over the last year, knowing I was getting out of the military, and the last thing I want to do is go through the nest egg I have set aside for Aya and me. Fuck.
“I’ll give you one night, man. If this is as bad as I think it is, it’s only going to be one night.”
“I only need one night,” he says, looking me up and down. “Just ask Lea.”
“For fuck’s sake.”
“I’m kidding, bro. Relax. You have to relax before you go inside. You can’t be all uptight and shit or you’ll be clenching. No one wants to see dimpled ass cheeks. Trust me. I’ve gotten complaints before.” What?
“You’ve had complaints about dimpled ass cheeks?”
He shakes his head. “Never mind that. Look, you won’t be upset when you see your tips, Den. You won’t,” he follows up with.
“It’s a Monday. How could you be that busy on a Monday?”
“Oh, we’re busy as hell every night.” Noa hops out of the truck and takes a few steps toward the front entrance before turning around and giving me a glare through the windshield. He places his hands on his hips and cocks his head to the side, looking pissed before a stupid smirk appears. Dammit to hell.
I get out of the truck, throwing the door open, and stomping out in my boots.
This is bull. Serious bull.
Now resolved to walk inside, I glance around the lot, finding it packed for so early at night. I swear, if there’s a pole inside, I’m not taking another step.
He holds open the glass door and waves me in. “No one will bite you, bro. Don’t worry,” Noa assures me. Ass. I need to eliminate that word from my vocabulary now that it’s taken on a whole new meaning.
Bite me? No. No one would bite my ass, right? That’s insane.
This is insane.
“Well, you know what? They—whoever they are—they should be the ones who should worry … because I do bite,” I tell him.
“Easy,” he says. “This isn’t a locker room. Though we do have one in the back, so you can get changed into your uniform.”
“Uniform?” My chest constricts and tightens with irritation. He said something about shorts. Shit.
He doesn’t respond to my question as he continues walking past me, but I see the other waiters in what looks like skintight silky boxer briefs that leave little to the imagination. “Just think. If we lived in Europe, they’d probably be wearing even less,” Noa says, as if that’s supposed to make me feel better.
Noa leads me into the back room, not to be confused with the kitchen because this is an actual locker room. He opens a closet door and grabs something. “Here’s your uniform.” He hands it over. I think. I’m not sure if he has anything in his hand because whatever he’s holding is so small his hand conceals the entire damn thing.
“Dude, I’ve seen condom wrappers bigger than this sealed plastic bag.”
“If you have, you should tell whoever was using it to get themselves checked out because that’s not right, bro. Not right at all.”
“I’ll do that,” I mutter.
“There’s a private changing area down to the left. Most of the guys don’t care about privacy, but I can see you might need some time to get adjusted … you know …”
Ticked off and irritable, I drop my shorts and boxers to the ground and tear open the damn bag. This thing is too damn small to fit over my fucking ass. “Does this make you uncomfortable?” I ask Noa. “I’m standing here basically naked and you’re fully dressed. Didn’t you learn anything about leading by example? So, where’s your uniform, huh?”
“I have to be professional. I mean, it’s my restaurant. You know?”
“No, no, I don’t know. I don’
t know what the hell I’m doing right now, or why I’m here, or how the hell you ended up in charge of anything or anyone.”
“Relax. You’re a natural. I promise.” Noa is completely unfazed by my anger, which pisses me off a little more. He could have warned me about this earlier. He knew I wouldn’t go for it. Bastard.
I pull the condom shorts up my thighs as the hair on my legs catches on the rubbery waistband. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. It takes me a solid two minutes to situate the shorts over my ass, and the only thing I see when I look down is my junk on full display. Like … there’s a defined outline of my dog and balls.
“Who wants to look at this shit while they’re eating?” I ask him, pointing to my dick.
“Women. They’re sick creatures. You wouldn’t know it, but they are.”
“Oh yeah, every woman I’ve ever met totally enjoys staring at a defined, silk-covered ballsack as they eat a nice juicy burger.”
“We won’t get into the women you’ve ‘known,’” Noa says with raised brows.
“Screw you.”
“No thanks, but if you play your cards right, you might find someone who would be open to that idea tonight.” I have the urge to gut-punch him, but I control myself and take a deep breath.
“Where’s the menu?”
“We just have burgers, wings, and salad,” he says.
“You don’t have a menu?”
He looks around like I’m nuts for asking. “Well, we do, but it just says, burgers, wings, and salad.”
“And you’re running a restaurant …”
“Yeah?” he says. “Anyway, there’s a couple of cool features in your uniform I should point out.”
“Don’t point anywhere,” I tell him. “Where the hell is there room for features?”
“They’re features you’ll feel more than see. Well, except the one in the back. That’s not for you to see, though,” he chuckles. “There’s a support feature in the rear but there’s some air flow, textured material in the frontal zone to make the uniform breathable and odor free.”
“You’re worried about odor,” I repeat.
“Yeah, I mean, that was honestly my biggest hurdle. That’s when you take a fun idea and make it sour. No one wants to smell the junk. They just want to see it.”
“That was your biggest hurdle?”
“You’ll thank me,” he says.
“Oh, yeah, I’ll remember to thank you later.”
Chapter Six
Kai
“Take a left,” Lea says.
“But then we’d be heading toward Makawao. We don’t usually go there.”
“You don’t usually go there,” she corrects me. “I go there all the time.”
“Why?” I question. “Are we going to the steakhouse?”
“No, I hate steak,” she snaps.
“I know, which is why I’m confused. The only other place to go is the Mexican food place, and you don’t like that either.”
“There’s another restaurant you’re not thinking of then. Don’t worry, okay?” Lea assures me.
“Worry?” I sigh. “Why would I worry when you’re leading the way?”
“Shut up, Kai.” Lea huffs and twists her head to stare out the window and blindly turns up the music on the radio. She’s trying to avoid the questions running through my head. I know her well enough to read her cues. “Just one more mile on this road and it’s on the right.”
“There’s nothing but vacant land down there. Are you sure?” I ask.
“It’s not vacant,” she drones.
“Have you considered getting your license so maybe you can take a stab at driving sometime?” I look over at her, but she still has her focus set out the window. We’ve been over this topic a million times before, and I know what she’ll say, but at some point, she’s going to have to face her fears and get it over with.
“You know I’ve considered it,” she groans. “I’m not ready yet.”
“The older you get, the harder it will become to learn, Lea. You can’t continue to use Mom and Dad’s accident as a reason to avoid certain parts of adulthood. I understand why you’re scared—”
“Stop it!” She yells. “Do you have to lecture me about something every single time we’re in the car together? All I wanted to do was have fun with you tonight, and you can’t stop acting like an old nagging bat.”
Lea doesn’t raise her voice too often, so I know I struck a nerve this time. I didn’t mean to. It’s just that I feel irritated a lot that I must consistently be the chauffeur because she gets to be scared. I’ve never had the option of being scared after Mom and Dad died. I’ve had to be the brave one, and it’s wearing me thin. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to start an argument,” I tell her. I don’t want her to be upset while we walk into the restaurant, seeing as we’re supposedly suddenly celebrating her engagement tonight.
“It’s okay,” she says against the whipping wind. “Take a right, up ahead where that sign is.”
She’s pointing to a billboard I can’t make out from here, but the closer we get, the faster my heart starts pounding. Unbelievable. “What a place to celebrate your magical moment. Do you prefer the bun on the right or the one on the left?”
“Halo is kind of an ass, so we’ll go with Danko—he’s the one on the right.” She is completely serious and not concerned with the fact that I just asked her which half-naked man she prefers to ogle.
“You know the meatheads on that billboard?”
“Yeah. They’re waiters.” She finally turns to look at me, but only to give me a kind of look that clarifies I should have assumed the boneheads up there work inside. Because that’s normal.
“Hmm. So, why isn’t Noa’s ass up there?” I ask. “Or did his head get stuck in that region during the photoshoot? If that were the case, I could understand why he wouldn’t want to be showcased like those hot studs.”
“Is this how you’re going to act all night?” she asks as if I chose to come here on my own free will, knowing what we were walking into.
“Sorry, should I run down the street for some dollar bills first? I don’t want to be rude.”
“You know what. Just stay in the car, Kai.” She steps out and slams the door as hard as she can. Yup, make sure you break the car, so I can save up another two weeks’ salary to fix it. She’s well on her way to adulting, as always.
I try not to fight back with her. It never ends well. In fact, I’ve gotten good at being the one who ends each argument we get into, but sometimes—God, sometimes she infuriates me. “Lea!” I shout after her. “Don’t go in there until we’re done talking.”
“Don’t talk to me like you own me,” she sings, still walking as quickly as she can in her four-inch heels.
“Lea, please stop.” I’m gritting my teeth, and I’m sure it can be heard through my strained words, but I don’t want to make a scene in the restaurant.
She stomps right in front of the door and flings her hair around, pops her hip to the side and slaps both hands against her hips. “What?”
Now that’s she’s waiting to hear what I have to say, I realize I don’t have anything else to add. I don’t like this kind of strip-club-style restaurant. I think it’s piggish and unnecessary, but she’s marrying the freaking owner of this establishment. “I don’t want to fight with you,” I tell her.
“Then you should stop talking,” she says.
“Fine, I’ll only speak when I’m spoken to by you tonight. After all, it’s your night, right?” I know my eyebrow has risen, and at some point in the last thirty seconds, I’ve crossed my arms over my chest, but I’m not saying another word.
“Right. My night,” she says.
“Then let’s go.”
She stomps her foot like I should say something more than I’ve already said, then groans. “God, you’re so annoying.”
I close my eyes and walk in front of her to grab the door handle. I pull open the glass door and wave Lea inside. “After you,” I grumble.
She juts her chin out, straightens her shoulders, then strolls inside as if she’s Mrs. Man Buns, which I guess she will be in the future. I would give just about anything to have a megaphone right now, just so I could announce her presence.
The interior doesn’t look as bad as I thought it would. It’s clean. It even smells clean. It’s spacious, not cramped like a lot of the other restaurants in this area. It kind of looks like a sports bar, but instead of sports, there’s a girly vibe running through the place. Not too girly, just enough that it wouldn’t be confused for a normal, everyday bar in case someone missed the larger than life Man Buns sign on the way in.
Lea is looking around, for Noa, I assume, but he isn’t anywhere in sight. “Didn’t you say everyone from work is meeting here?” I ask from behind her. Why would the guys we work with want to hang out here? As I’m thinking it, I realize it’s the perfect place to meet a horny woman. Smart. No, not smart. Stupid.
She looks down at her watch. “They’ll be here in about five minutes,” she says. “Noa must be in the back. Come on.”
I follow like the puppy dog I am to her, while trying to avoid the sights of the mostly naked men walking around with trays of food.
“That says ‘Men’s Locker Room,’” I tell her as she’s moving forward to push the door open. “Shouldn’t you knock first?”
“It’s just called the locker room. No one is ever getting dressed in there when I go in.”
How can we be two such completely different types of people, yet we came from the same exact background? It makes no sense. She shoves the door open, and all we hear is a thud and what sounds like a growl. “Oh my God. I’m so, so sorry!” Lea says. “Did I just hit you?”
She pushes the door open a little further and grabs me by the strap of my dress, pulling me into the locker room with her. “I’m fine,” I hear, before making my way around the door. “There’s a lot of power behind those small arms of yours.”
Lea giggles … of course … and as the door closes, it sheds a new light on my already wonderful evening.
Man Buns Page 5