That fucking does it.
Before James could lose his nerve, he tapped him on the shoulder.
Rude Guy spun around and looked up at James with mischievous eyes. He didn’t seem the slightest bit surprised that James had something to say to him. “What?”
For a moment, James’s tongue attached itself to the roof of his mouth. He had to pry it off before he could speak. “Did you beat me here on purpose?”
The guy blinked and repeated, “What?”
James waved a hand at the restaurant. “I told you about this place, and the second I did, you took off. Did you seriously sprint here just to be one person ahead in line?”
“I didn’t sprint.” Rude Guy grinned. “It was more of a power-walk.”
“You know what I mean. Why did you do that?”
His eyes searched James’s face. “Well, obviously it was so I could get a better look at that vein throbbing in your temple.”
Something inside of James snapped. “Dude, what the fuck is your problem?”
As soon as the words were out of James’s mouth, he regretted them. Since when did he curse at strangers in public? Rude Guy had a talent for bringing out the worst in him.
The guy seemed as shocked as James. His eyes widened. “I was kidding. Look, pal, I wasn’t trying to annoy you or run here or whatever you think I did. I wanted food, and you told me where to get it. What was I supposed to do? Wait for you? Did you think we were gonna hold hands and skip here together?”
Jesus. This guy’s got a smart reply for everything.
James narrowed his eyes. “The polite thing to do would have been to wait for me, yes. But I guess you don’t know anything about manners, seeing as you have none.”
To his surprise, Rude Guy didn’t lob another rejoinder at him. In fact, he didn’t say anything at all. Maybe it was James’s imagination, but Rude Guy almost looked . . . impressed? Regardless, he turned his back on James again. It seemed their conversation was over.
James didn’t attempt to reengage him as the line shuffled forward. He was still appalled he’d cursed at a stranger. And irritated. And a little bit turned on?
Stop it. If you were a comic book character, this guy would be your nemesis. Keep it in your pants.
He made himself glare daggers at the back of Rude Guy’s head. By the time they reached the front, he’d burned through all his anger. He was now wondering why Rude Guy bothered him so much, why Rude Guy got under his skin.
It wasn’t as if James had never been pushed around before. Hell, he was a doormat, and he knew that about himself. He usually ignored people who tried to provoke him, choosing instead to smile and take the high road when he could. But Rude Guy pushed all his buttons. Was it because his day had gone so awry, or was there some other reason?
Maybe you’re fixating on Rude Guy because you want to be more like him. Or because you flat-out like him.
Man, he hoped that wasn’t the case. Developing a crush on a stranger was weird enough, but one that got on his nerves? That would befit the sort of day James was having.
“Sir?”
A voice startled James from his thoughts. He glanced toward the front of the restaurant. A woman in a plain green uniform was leaning on the counter, looking at him. “You’re next, sir. Could you come up here please?”
Shit. While James had been daydreaming, the world had kept turning. Rude Guy was nowhere to be seen.
“Sorry about that.” James scuttled up to the register. “I was lost in thought.”
“That’s okay.” She gave him a warm smile that made him feel a little better about the day he’d had. “Your food’s ready.”
It took James a second to process that. “Wait, what?”
“Your food.” One of the other employees brought a plastic tray forward and set it on the counter. On it were what appeared to be yuca fries and a pork sandwich.
James looked between the tray and the woman. “I didn’t order this.” Though I was certainly going to.
“Your friend ordered for you. Did you want something else?”
“My friend?”
“Yeah. The guy ahead of you in line. He paid for it too.”
James’s jaw actually dropped. It made a popping sound and everything. “Um, to be clear, you mean the guy who was right in front of me? Dark hair, hazel eyes?”
She looked at him askance. “I didn’t notice the color of his eyes, sir.”
Of course you didn’t. Because you’re not as weird and inappropriate as I am.
It occurred to James that he was holding up the line, so he took the food and walked away in a daze.
Rude Guy bought me lunch? Didn’t see that coming.
Was it some sort of apology, or was he toying with James? It could be a mean joke, but what was the punch line? And more importantly, why would a stranger spend time, effort, and money on messing with another stranger?
The answer was simple: he wouldn’t. And since it was unlikely this was some sort of elaborate mind game, James was forced to conclude that this didn’t make any sense. He should put it from his mind.
Which was, of course, impossible. As he wandered back toward his gate, he replayed his exchange with Rude Guy over and over, broken-record style.
He really shouldn’t allow this attraction to germinate, let alone grow into a bud that would need to be nipped. James was studying accounting for a reason. He loved numbers. They were orderly and had infallible rules. When they did something he didn’t understand, he could figure out why. But people? People were unpredictable, as today had confirmed.
If you’re so curious, why don’t you ask him? You’re an adult. Have an adult conversation. And get his name so you can stop calling him Rude Headphones Guy.
James rounded a corner, and gates one through four came into view. He made a beeline for three, still arguing with himself. If he were smart, he’d eat his free food, call it recompense for the way Rude Guy had treated him, and do his best to avoid any more weirdness until he was out of this godforsaken airport.
He had a sneaking suspicion he wasn’t going to be smart.
You’re way overthinking this, he scolded himself. A stranger was hot and cold with you. Of course you’re curious about him. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s not like you have a crush on him or something.
James was a bad liar even in his own head.
At the very least, you’re forbidden to forgive him just because he’s hot. As far as you’re concerned, this lunch means you’ve called a truce, and now you can ignore each other.
When he made it back to the gate, things were more or less unchanged. Clumps of people were still waiting around for the flight, and everyone from the passengers to the staff members looked like they’d rather be anywhere else.
James spotted Rude Guy almost instantly. He was sitting in a different spot from before—a whole row down from the charging station—and he was buried in his own plate of food. If he noticed James’s return, he didn’t let on. His focus appeared to be entirely on the sandwich he was wolfing down.
James eyed the available seats near his gate. There was one near Rude Guy, but there was also one open at the charging station. He dithered for a moment between curiosity and need before, finally, need won out.
He plopped into a seat by the station and plugged in his phone. While it fueled up, he did the same. His food was every bit as delicious as it’d smelled. He ate with more enthusiasm than he probably should, considering he was surrounded by people. But whatever. He was never going to see any of them again.
When he’d finished, he cleaned up after himself and checked his phone. It was at sixteen percent and climbing. There was a new text notification. He tapped on it, expecting it to be Melissa, but the name that popped up made his heart still in his chest.
David. The dreaded ex-boyfriend. What the hell did he want? Probably to ask James for yet another favor. Six whole months had passed since they’d broken up, and yet David still hit James up for money, support, and even hel
p moving into his new boyfriend’s apartment.
And, for some reason, James kept doing whatever David asked.
James read the text, dread welling up in his stomach like cold water. Sure enough, David needed something. His car had broken down, and he wanted James to pick him up. In Summerville. The next city over. It was a forty-minute drive if traffic was nonexistent.
Jerk.
At least for once James had an excuse to say no. He wrote a quick text back, saying he was in an airport in New York and couldn’t make it. He was tempted to snap a photo of his surroundings as proof, but fuck that. He didn’t have to prove anything to David. Plus, he’d Instagrammed the whole wedding, and David was addicted to the ’gram. If he hadn’t bothered to figure out why James was hashtagging New York City in all his photos, that wasn’t James’s problem.
Leaving his phone to charge in peace, James ordered himself for the hundredth time to stop letting people walk all over him. It wasn’t fair to anyone, least of all himself.
Easier said than done, though. And in David’s case, James had an especially strong reason to capitulate: guilt. They’d dated for nine months, and for six of those, James had been miserable.
It wasn’t that David was a bad person. James enjoyed his company, and they had a lot in common. David just didn’t know how to do anything for himself. He’d needed James to remind him to do basic things, like pay bills and buy groceries. More than once during their relationship, he’d asked James to pick him up because he’d forgotten to put gas in his car.
David was a tornado of chaos in James’s orderly life and gave him more stress than pleasure. James had realized long before the relationship had ended that it couldn’t possibly work out. And yet, James hadn’t ended things. He’d stayed. For far, far too long, longer than was healthy, hoping that things would sort themselves out. Because he was a damn coward.
Rather than confront their issues, he’d let things between David and him rot. Finally, David had broken up with him, and it’d been ugly.
Now, James was saddled with all this guilt, and David was still in his life. And all of it could have been avoided if he’d been honest about his feelings from the start.
For someone who’s so risk averse, your life sure is a mess, James Thompson.
His phone buzzed on the station counter. Without thinking, James glanced at it. Another text from David.
What else could he possibly want? I’m in a different state.
James opened the message, and when he read it, he groaned aloud. Since James couldn’t pick him up, David wanted money for a cab. Taking a cab all the way back to Charleston would cost a fortune. Broke grad student that he was, James would have to eat ramen for two weeks to make up the difference.
Later, James would be embarrassed to admit he considered it. His hand hovered over his phone, itching to write a text saying he’d send the money as soon as he could hop on the airport’s wi-fi. But thankfully, he was tired and irritable and not in the mood for this shit.
Screw this. For once in your life, don’t be a doormat. David can’t suck me dry for the rest of my life because I made a mistake. Even if it was a mistake that wasted six months of both our lives and continues to affect us to this day . . .
Goddamn it.
James hit a button, and the screen on his phone went black. Although, knowing him, he was going to spend the whole plane ride fretting, and then he’d crack as soon as he got home.
Home. His empty one-bedroom apartment near campus. He’d get settled and then hang out with Travis, the only friend he’d made in his graduate program. Or as was more likely, he’d call his parents and listen to Mom insist he was a late bloomer while Dad made unhelpful comments about the number of fish in the sea. Sigh.
It was a depressing thought, though not as depressing as being stuck in a dinky airport.
James glanced out the nearest window. It was still overcast outside, only now the clouds had thickened into a dark, opaque dome that blotted out the sky. That couldn’t be a good sign. Come to think of it, James hadn’t checked the departures schedule in a while. Hopefully, it’d been updated.
From his seat, he was able to see the electronic sign hanging near gate two. After some squinting, he found his flight number. It was still delayed, which he already knew, but now the departure time was different.
It’d been pushed back. Again.
Perhaps this was James’s punishment. This airport was Purgatory, and he was doomed to spend eternity with mysterious strangers, confused feelings, and regret.
“James Thompson?”
Mika glanced up instinctively as a voice came over the PA system. Standing at the help desk in front of the gate was a woman in a flight attendant’s uniform. She spoke into a black phone as she scanned the crowd. “Thompson, please report to gate three. James Thompson, to gate three.”
Mika was about to look back down at his phone when he saw Colgate jump up from his seat by the charging station and hurry over. Huh. So, his name was James, then. There was one mystery solved.
Ever since their encounter outside of the restaurant, Mika had been trying to understand why he’d bought James—was Mika allowed to be on a first-name basis with someone he hadn’t formally met yet?—a late lunch.
The most obvious explanation was that Mika felt bad for cutting him in line, though he still maintained that he hadn’t technically done that. Well, the second time around, at least. He’d definitely cut James off at the charging station earlier.
Regardless, Mika had to admit he’d acted poorly, and he wasn’t quite heartless enough to not care. The food was a peace offering. A savory white flag. They could coexist in the same airport now without declaring war.
Plus, when James had cracked and called him out, Mika had been oddly proud of him. Obviously he didn’t know James, but from the shocked look on his face after he’d yelled at Mika, he wasn’t the confrontational sort. And it hadn’t hurt that irritation looked good on James. He’d been all flushed and bright-eyed while telling Mika off, his blond hair ruffled.
Mika peeked over at the subject of his thoughts. James was still standing at the gate desk. Probably getting his seat changed last minute or something. He was head and shoulders taller than the woman behind the desk, and when he smiled, color rose in her cheeks.
Yeah, same here, lady.
Mika took back what he’d thought before. James would be wasted as a toothpaste model. He should be on the cover of GQ. Or an underwear model, if Mika’s imagination got its way.
Stop being creepy, Mika. You don’t know the guy. You’ve spoken twice, and both times, you were an ass to him. Not exactly the stuff of romance novels.
Not that Mika had romance on the brain or anything. Because that would really be weird. No, this was just an ill-advised attraction. He’d call it a crush if he were still in high school. It had been far, far too long since his last boyfriend, and now he was fixating on the first interesting stranger he’d interacted with.
Besides, they were in an airport, as he hardly needed reminding. Most of the people here were from all corners of the map. It could make a top-five list of worst places to meet a significant other.
Along with a funeral, Mika thought, already composing the list in his head. And prison. Divorce court. Their wedding. Oh! A family reunion.
Chuckling to himself, Mika slid his headphones onto his ears but didn’t turn on the music. The noise-canceling abilities were useful for places like airports that had a lot of distracting white noise. Though he certainly didn’t need help keeping his thoughts focused on James “Colgate” Thompson.
Mika noticed that they’d been sitting in the same section of the airport for the past two hours. He’d wondered earlier if they were on the same flight, but so many had been delayed by the weather, it was hard to tell. However, considering James had been called up to gate three, it seemed likely.
Was it possible he lived in Charleston too? What were the odds? Even if they were on the same plane, it was just as likel
y James was passing through. He could be from New York after all, and then they’d have a whole coastline between them.
Which would be no problem at all, a voice in his head scolded, since you don’t know him, and he means nothing to you. And you’re certainly not going to ask him to get a drink with you at the airport bar like you’ve been thinking for the past twenty minutes.
Damn, busted by his own inner monologue.
He needed a reality check. It was one thing to acknowledge an attractive stranger, but it was another to act. He had no clue if James was into guys, and even if he was, why would he be into a guy who actively infuriated him? Mika hoped the peace offering had at least stymied an assassination attempt, but it didn’t mean James liked him.
Way to go, buddy. You ruined your chances with the guy before you learned his name.
Sighing to himself, Mika watched discreetly as James left the desk and made his way back to the charging station. James had left his bag and phone there, which officially confirmed what Mika had thought before: this had to be his first trip to New York. No one who’d been here before was that damn naïve.
The second James retook his seat, his eyes coasted in Mika’s direction. Mika quickly looked away, pretending to be fascinated by the hideous blue carpet beneath their feet. He hit the Play button on his MP3 player to deepen the effect, though no one but him could hear it. Actually, he didn’t hear a note either, focused as he was on not looking directly at James while James blatantly scoped him out. That was a good sign, right?
If he’s checking you out, yes, but if he’s still glaring at you, no.
Mika didn’t dare glance over to check. If James was giving him the evil eye, it would hurt more than Mika cared to admit. At twenty-three, he’d never had a relationship that’d lasted more than a few months, and it was his own damn fault. All he brought to the table was attitude and an arsenal of smart-ass comments. His lovers were always telling him it was impossible to get serious about someone who treated everything like a joke.
James was the latest man Mika had chased away, and he’d done it in record time too.
New Heights Page 3