by Ava O'Shay
Assad continued to smile, his teeth white against his perfect coffee and cream colored skin. “Plain works.”
“So, you going to see Cori?” Quill asked after a few beats of uncomfortable silence.
“I was, but now I wonder if you might get a cup of coffee with me?” Assad shoved his hands in his pockets, surprisingly shy.
Quill looked over Assad’s shoulder. Cori was watching them. “Is she waiting?” he asked.
Assad glanced over his shoulder in the same direction Quill was looking. “Nah, I just came by to say hi. She just got back from the symphony tour. I can harass her any time.”
“Oh.” Quill gave himself a mental head slap for his eloquent way with words.” “Coffee?” Assad pointed at the bakery.
Quill looked at his feet. Probably wasn’t the best idea, but what the hell. “Sure.”
When they had settled into a booth, after an argument over Assad paying for his coffee, Assad offered up some personal information. “I’ve known her since we were little. Had the same piano teacher. She steps in when our lead is having a moment.” He used his fingers to make air quotes around the word moment. “Lacy. That’s her name. She’s dramatic. Had some issues and needs a break every once in a while. Cori is nice enough to be on call.”
Quill took a sip of his coffee.
“So what’s your story?” Assad asked before putting his cup to his lips. “Don’t have one.”
“Everyone has a story.” Assad leaned back, resting an arm over the back of the booth. “Not me.” Quill stared out the window at the music store’s front door.
Assad let out a breath. “I just have to wonder how a few weeks ago you’re looking to hook up with Cori, but end up banging a chick in the hallway, and then… “
“It was a mistake,” Quill snapped before Assad could finish. “I was high, and the thing with you? You came on to me.”
“Whoa there big boy. No one is denying I was the instigator in that fiasco. I just want to know if you’re interested or not. Give me a clue. Am I wasting my time?”
“I… “ Quill’s words died.
“Are confused?” Assad leaned forward, his finger reached out and barely touched Quill’s arm.
Quill lowered his gaze to the table.
“I liked kissing you.” Assad’s tone drew Quill’s attention back to his face.
“Look, I’m working through some stuff, and you came at me, and I was high, and I… I just wanted to see what would happen,” Quill stuttered.
“And something definitely did.” Assad smiled. “I’m having a hard time getting the kiss out of my head.”
“I’m not sure what you want me to say.” Quill was having a hard time getting Assad out of his head as well, and watching his lips wrap around the edge of the coffee cup was not helping to erase the kiss they had shared, stoned or not.
“Do you like me? At all?” Assad moved his hand closer to Quill’s arm. “Would you be willing to go out on a date with me? See how it pans out? Try again? Sober?” Assad continued to add comments with a small grin.
Quill turned to look out the window again. He didn’t want to like Assad. He’d fought feeling anything for most of his life, and now that he was feeling something, he didn’t want to feel it for a guy.
“Cori?” Assad frowned.
Quill shrugged. “It isn’t like that. Besides she doesn’t like me.” “Did she tell you that?”
“She didn’t have to.” The way she looked at him was a reflection of how shitty he felt after a night of sex with a nameless girl. He didn’t like himself, so why would she?
Assad leveled his stare on Quill, studying his face. “How about we try friends?” “You can do that?”
Assad leaned back and chuckled. “I would rather not, but if that’s all you’re offering, I’ll take it. I like you, Quill. I already told you that.”
“I just don’t want you hanging around waiting for the next time I’m high so you can kiss me.”
“Well, if you get the urge to kiss me when you’re high, I’d like to be near so you can,” Assad teased.
“I’m serious.” He wasn’t, but he needed to say something to stop himself from going down this road. He knew if the opportunity arose again, he would take it. And he doubted no matter how many times he insisted Assad keep his lips under restraint, if Quill gave him an opening, he’d be all over it.
“So am I. I’m not going to be moping around waiting for you to get stoned and stupid. You like music. I like music. You don’t want to beat the shit out of me because I’m different and don’t treat me like a leper. I’d like to hang out sometime. Pound out some beats.”
Quill thought about what Assad said. He hadn’t had many friends in the past. Or any real friends for that matter. His past made him a question mark in the social circles of high school, and being Ren’s brother didn’t always work in his favor. “Kind of like the island of the misfit toys?”
“Kinda.”
Quill sat back and returned Assad’s easy smile. “We can try.” “The stoned kisses or the BFF?”
Quill laughed.
Assad looked like a regular guy sitting in a coffee shop. So far removed from the ‘V’ image he put on to perform. Quill liked this version of him.
“Why do you get all dolled up for the club?” Quill finally asked.
Assad’s smile wavered; he moved his hand back to his side of the table, picking up his coffee. “Kind of my ‘f’ you to the establishment.
Quill had to laugh at Assad’s avoidance of swearing. He and Ren had a horrible penchant for cussing. He waited for Assad to elaborate.
“In high school, I was trying to figure out who I was. My parents were… are great. Kind of free-wheeling, hippy types, but open to whatever me and my brother are into. My dad’s family is from Saudi Arabia, a banker by day beatnik by night. Mom’s from the Midwest, an artist, sculpture. I know its cliché, but it’s how my cards fell. My little brother’s a freshman at the local community college. I’m from Portland originally.”
Quill nodded at the ease Assad had at sharing about his family. He wished his story was just as easy.
“I don’t do labels. I like to confuse those who instill them. I think my dad taught me that. He came from a strict culture. One that didn’t show much love or affection. Has tight expectations for the sexes, not a lot of flexibility.” Assad shrugged. “I dress without labels. Guy, girl, what have you because here… I can.”
“Are you gay? From the way you looked at my sister… bi maybe?” “I don’t like labels.”
“But you asked me,” Quill argued.
“You’re a label kind of guy. You need to know who you are.” “So I need one from you.”
Assad frowned, then raised his shoulders in a lazy shrug. “I sway with what catches my eye at the time. Currently, it’s you.”
“I thought we were going the friend route?”
Assad held up his hands in defense. “We are because that is where you need me to be.
I’m attracted to you. I’m willing to meet you on your terms.”
“I’m not sure how comfortable I am with that.” Quill tried to keep his expression neutral.
He wasn’t sure what his terms were any more.
“Be my friend. That’s all I’m asking.” “But you want more.”
“I want what you are willing to give me.”
Quill rubbed his face. “It’s frustrating talking to you.”
Assad’s easy smile returned, his teasing expression. “Take Cori for instance. She’s attractive. Easy on the eyes. I find myself attracted to her. Maybe I hook up, maybe I don’t.”
“Because you like guys.” Quill snorted.
“Because she isn’t the kind of girl who wants what I can offer.” “What can you offer?” Quill was intrigued.
Assad reached across the table again, his fingertip barely caressing Quill’s arm. “I can’t offer her forever. She’s a forever kind of girl, and I can offer her now.”
“Is that what you
’re offering me?” “It’s all I offer anyone.”
Quill wasn’t sure what to make of Assad and his fuck society and its labels attitude. “Have you and her… you know?” Quill hesitated to ask.
Assad’s smile got bigger. “You wouldn’t want me to answer that if she asked the same of you and me. I will do her the same courtesy.”
“I was high,” Quill shot back.
“You really think she would still be listening when I got to well he was high?” Quill flipped his baseball hat up and down quickly.
“Why do you always wear the hat?” Assad’s teasing subsided, his smooth tone returned, relaxing the atmosphere around them.
“I don’t know. I got my hair cut a few months ago and started to wear it.”
“You shouldn’t. It makes you all mysterious and brooding, don’t get me wrong. But your eyes are heart breaking. Melts my insides when you look at me. So much emotion and heartbreak in there just asking for someone to love you.”
“Friends?” Jesus, was that what he sounded like when he was picking up girls? “I’m just expressing my feelings. I don’t believe in holding back.”
“I think those feelings are crossing over the friend zone line.”
For the first time, Quill saw Assad truly frown. “I don’t like boundaries. I like to do what feels right.”
“Well, don’t talk to me like that in public. I still like boundaries.” Quill shifted in his seat. He was lying. He liked the way the easy way Assad did everything, and his pants were getting uncomfortable as his dick responded to Assad’s smooth words. But he wasn’t ready to deal with the thoughts Assad put in his head. He’d denied himself any real feelings for most of his life. How, in three short meetings, did Assad bring them all rushing to the surface?
Assad’s mischievous grin reappeared. “Only in private, I got it.”
“Not what I meant.” The thought of being alone with Assad made his upper lip start to sweat.
Assad laughed and drank his coffee. “Go with it, Quill. Don’t get caught up in what you are supposed to feel. Just feel.”
Quill glanced back toward the music store. Assad’s words sounded easy, but he wasn’t sure what he felt. Assad was right. There was something simmering under the surface with them, but it should be with Cori. Not a guy sitting across from him. He felt much more comfortable directing the feelings growing in his pants towards Cori than Assad.
“So, your sister’s hot. Twins. Huh?”
This time Quill laughed.
“Sway with the wind baby.” Assad laughed back.
“Well, sway far away from her.” Quill nailed him with a protective brother stare. “She’s dating someone, and I don’t want to have a picture in my head of her kissing the same guy I have.”
Assad puffed up like a proud rooster. “You have a picture in your head of us?”
“There is no us. Remember, we have friend boundaries.” Quill diverted his gaze out the window again, feeling a heat move into his face while avoiding the allure of Assad’s mouth.
“Whatever.” Assad waved his hand in a not so manly way. “I’m going to hop over the boundary for just a minute, but I promise I will run back over and stay put in the pasture until you let me out, but dude, seriously. In a— I’m not saying you’re gay way,” Assad held his hand up to his mouth as if sharing a secret, “but Jesus Christ man! That was a kiss to remember.”
Quill put a hand on each side of the brim of his hat, squeezing it while pulling it down over his face. “Stop.”
“Q, I’m still out of the safety pasture. Man, your mouth is heaven. I get why the ladies let you in their panties in the middle of a dirty hallway.”
“We did it in the bathroom. I’m not that lude.” Assad wrinkled his nose. “Eew. And that’s better?” Quill laughed at his expression.
“Remember, son, with great power comes great responsibility.” Quill laughed again.
“Seriously, Quill. If you like me? Don’t be messing with those girls. You’re better than that.”
“You don’t know that.” Quill said. Assad nodded. “I do.”
“Doesn’t matter. It won’t work.” “What won’t?” Assad asked.
“This thing you think you want with me. It won’t work.” Quill pointed back and forth between them.
“You won’t know until you try.” Assad nodded toward the cello. “What are you doing?
Writing a love song on a cello?”
Quill looked at the cello he’d placed next to him in the booth. He’d forgotten he’d brought it in. “Cori’s dad gave it to me for a project. He told me to take it home and treat it like a lady. Do you think he knows my rep? That I’m a douche when it comes to women?”
“He’s a dad. No doubt he knows.”
“I’m bad aren’t I? I don’t look like the kind of guy you’d trust your daughter with, do I?” “So you are interested in Cori?” Assad raised an eyebrow.
“I find her interesting. Not sure what I feel about her.” Quill knew how he felt about her.
He liked her a lot. The problem was his body didn’t seem to agree.
Quill ran calloused fingers over his unshaven chin, making a scratching sound, fingering the stud set under his lower lip. “I bet if you took me home, your parents would hate me, too.” Assad deserved to be warned off just as much as any girl.
“Relax. Don is a cool guy. He doesn’t judge. He trusts Cori and knows she knows her way around the club scene. There isn’t much that would surprise him. And my parents would love you.” He winked. “We should give it a try.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway. When a girl catches you with your hand up another girl’s shirt, it’s kind of difficult to recover.”
“She’s not a nun. I’m sure she could get over it if you made it worth her while.” Assad smiled.
“She watched.”
“Yeah? So did I, and I’m sitting here trying to convince you to let me stick my tongue down your throat again.”
A strange noise came from deep in Quill’s throat. He tried to cover it with a coughing spurt, but he doubted Assad was fooled. God what was wrong with him? Now all he could think about was making out with Assad again.
Assad sipped his coffee. Watching him.
Quill looked out the window again in an attempt to regain some control over the way his body was reacting to Assad.
“This has been a very intriguing cup of coffee.” Assad raised an eyebrow. Quill glanced back his way. “And that’s a good thing?”
“Most definitely.”
.twelve
Assad McVee
September 23
5:30 p.m.
“And I’m back,” Assad announced, bursting through the door of the music shop. Don looked up at him and smiled. “And you’re expecting what? A parade?”
Assad put a hand to his chest. “My dear sir, a parade would be the least you could do to announce my return.”
“Cori is in the practice room.” Don put his attention back on the schedule he had spread out over the counter.
Assad came over and leaned in to look. “You know if you ever need any help, I’m around. I don’t need to be paid.”
Don stilled his hands for a moment before looking up at Assad. “You’ve been a good friend to Cori. I appreciate that. Thank you.”
Assad ran his had along the counter. “My parents are willing to help with anything you might need. I know the insurance money was used for this place.”
Don gave him a sad smile. “It’s been a slow start, but I think things are looking up.” Assad chuckled. “With the new hire?”
Don’s smile brightened. “He’s a good boy. He just doesn’t know it. Has some mad musical skills, and I think once word gets around, lessons will pick up.”
“Because he’s hot?” Assad laughed.
Don frowned. “No. If that’s all I needed, I could have stuck you in the window.” “You think I’m hot? Why I’m flattered.”
“You know what I mean. Stop that obnoxious flirting you do,�
� Don scolded him, which just made Assad burst out laughing. Don had been in Assad’s life for as long as he could remember. He was a second father to him. Which was another reason he continued to feel shitty about the fact he’d slept with his daughter. It was like he broke some rule or committed a sin.
“He has something special,” Don said. “He pulls people in and he doesn’t mean to. I think he has misdirected that pull in the past, but with some guidance, he could use it for better prospects than picking up woman.”
“You like him,” Assad said. Don was right, there was something magnetic about Quill, and it kind of unnerved him that Don saw it, too. He’d thought it was something special between the two of them.
Don looked up at Assad. “You like him, too.”
Assad couldn’t keep the sappy grin from spreading across his face. “Yes sir I do.”
Don patted him on the shoulder. “Better stake your claim fast because once the college hears about him and his cello, there is going to be a line.”
“Don’t I know it.” Assad pulled Don into a half hug. “Love you man. Let me know if I can help out. My class loads pretty light this semester.”
“Thanks. Now go bug Cori and let me get some work done.” “Yes. Sir.” He saluted and headed toward the back of the shop.
“Or where art thou my dear maiden?” Assad called as he walked away.
The music coming from the practice room stopped. Then a loud, pounding rendition of Welcome to the Jungle by Gun’s and Roses started. “Awesome.” Assad held his hand up, showing the devil sign all rockers used when banging their heads to the music.
Cori pounded a few more notes on the piano before stopping to come over and wrap her arms around Assad’s waist.
“Hey baby girl. I missed you.” He kissed the top of her head.
“I missed you, too, but it seems as if you have been busy.” She gave another squeeze and let go, but not before Assad noticed her taking a deep breath of him.
Assad pushed the need to make up for the hurt he caused her. He knew sleeping with her again wasn’t going to make the situation better. Somehow she needed to figure out a way to move on from her mom’s death and not use him to do it. “Busy how?” He settled into the comfortable chair Cori had placed in the corner for him.