by Geneva Vand
He received a perfectly synchronized yeah from his friends.
"Oookaaay. That was creepy guys. Maybe either spend less time together or finally become an official couple?"
Scott and Zack leaned forward slightly and locked eyes. They then straightened, reached up, and smacked him on either side of his head. He winced and released their arms long enough to rub his ears. "You're seriously just proving my point here."
"Shut up," Zack growled. "Tell us about Hot Guy. And why were you laughing like a mad man in an alley?"
"He was sitting at the coffee shop where I usually sit when I stopped in to drop off your ingredients order for the next catered event. You should have seen his face. It was awesome."
Zack gave Aiden a blank look. "I'm missing something here."
Scott turned to Zack in disbelief then turned to Aiden and waved his hands up and down Aiden's lanky, provocatively dressed form. "Just because we're immune due to familiarity and brotherly feelings doesn't mean everyone else is," he said incredulously.
Zack's eyes widened. "You were in club clothes?" He grinned then hummed contemplatively while eyeing Aiden in a particularly unbrotherly fashion. "At least now you know he's gay."
Aiden grinned back gleefully and bounced a little. "Yup. We now know he's gay. Or that he likes men, at any rate. I thought he was going to swallow his tongue." Aiden paused. "And I may have been a little bit bad." He held up his hand with his thumb and finger about half an inch apart.
Scott leaned closer. "Do tell."
Aiden playfully hid his eyes behind his hand then peeked out between his fingers. "I may have bowed at him."
Scott cackled while Zach choked. "Really?" Scott asked.
"Um. I caught him staring. And it was flattering and I was in a ridiculously good mood. So I may have done one of those super-cheesy-when-not-on-stage theater bows from across the street before I kept going. And then I blew him a kiss. And then I had to stop and wheeze in an alley because I was laughing so hard at the way his eyes all but popped out of his head."
Scott sighed dramatically. "Oh, wow. That makes my night. Whenever the band plays a boring song, I'm going to just picture that entire scene in my head because it's epic."
Aiden playfully echoed his sigh. Zach grabbed their arms and yanked them into the club.
Coffee. Glorious coffee. There was just one more person in line in front of Aiden, then it was his turn. He'd have to walk back to the office before he could actually drink it, because he didn't have enough hands to carry the loot and drink at the same time, but he could at least sniff it while he walked.
Shit, he was tired. Fuck deadlines. Fuck deadlines and indecisive crazy people that didn't care about silly things like order timelines.
It had snuck up on them. The last few weeks had been pretty much fine. Busy enough that they'd all come in for a few hours on Saturday morning to do paperwork even though they didn't have any appointments scheduled for the weekend, but overall fine. Even the mint thing had worked out, and Ange had made a stunning set up with those stupid tablecloths.
It was just that every customer with a request or order deadline looming had lost their goddamned mind. Aiden groaned inwardly. They were so behind. On everything.
Aiden was drawn out of his contemplations of deadlines, co-workers, and overeager indecisive clients when the guy in line in front of him spoke. After all, he was tired, but he wasn't dead. And there was just no way to ignore those deep pretty tones, all wrapped up in a nice subtle rumble. He blinked and focused in on slightly tousled blond-brown hair.
Nah. Surely not. He looked down and saw leather and thick soles on big feet.
Oh. He really was tired if he hadn't noticed Hot Guy in front of him. Oh wait. That was Hot Guy's voice? Oh wow. He was officially a goner. That voice was pure fantasy material.
Aiden's gaze slid back down to the boots, deciding that they had what was probably a one-inch heel. So Hot Guy was maybe a couple inches shorter than him. Nice. Good for hugs and cuddles.
Hugs and cuddles? Oh, good lord. He was going crazy. He needed sleep before the crazy became obvious to the general public. Or worse, started to spread. Was crazy contagious?
The honey-coated rumbles stopped and he realized the barista at the register was looking at him impatiently. Right. He needed to order things. Wonderful caffeinated and sugary things.
He rattled off his list on autopilot while he watched Hot Guy grab his cup and head over to the little counter full of creamers and stir sticks. The muscles in those broad shoulders and that lean back rippled under the tight t-shirt Hot Guy was wearing. It was navy blue this time.
Aiden stared as Hot Guy ran a hand through his hair, leaving it ruffled and messy and calling attention to the lighter highlights shining in the sun coming through the window.
So pretty. Aiden sighed. The man was just so nice to look at. And that voice. Aiden wondered if it got deeper when Hot Guy focused on you, or if it went all soft and velvety. Oh, that would be just killer. He would just melt into a puddle at the guy's feet.
Someone tapped him on the shoulder and he jolted out of his little daydream. He turned to look and they pointed at the drink tray and pastry bag taking up space on the pick-up counter. Aiden smiled apologetically and went to get his stuff.
There was a scuff and a yell. And then cursing. Very creative cursing. Cursing that his loud and foul-mouthed grandfather would have marveled at with pride.
Curious, Jason turned around. Low and behold, Panther was sitting on the sidewalk where he'd apparently fallen after tripping. Jason saw an extension cord partially hidden by yellow leaves stretching across the sidewalk from a wall outlet and figured that was the culprit. It seemed likely, due to the way it was twined around Panther's foot and ankle.
Then he saw the cardboard coffee tray. It had gone up when Panther had gone down and was now on its way back down to join the man on the pavement. There was no way this could go well. He was slightly too far away to try to play catch, so all he could do was look on in morbid fascination.
Panther also seemed to have noticed the collision of gravity and coffee tray. His eyes widened slightly as the three cups flew out of their tray when it flipped. The sounds were like something out of a cartoon. Splat! Splatsplat! went the coffee around him while the tray bounced on the pavement by his hip. The guy must have great karma. No coffee burns for him. But then thud went the pastry bag right on his head. Stalker Panther tipped his head forward and caught the bag as it slid off, glaring at it all the while.
Oh man. It was all too much. Stalker Panther was just too cute. Jason tried and failed to stifle his laughter. The death glare transferred to him, and somehow that only made it funnier. Jason wheezed for breath for a moment before finally composing himself.
Panther pulled his foot out of the extension cord and grumbled his way to his feet before gathering cups and lids from their scattered spots on the pavement. Then he stomped to the nearby trash can and dumped the mess into it. He seemed to still be muttering under his breath.
Jason decided he might want to leave while Panther was distracted, since he seemed to be fine. Otherwise there might be a bag of pastry aimed at his head, which would be fair, due to the whole laughing from down the block thing. Though, hey, maybe there would be introductions with the hypothetically launched pastries.
He shook his head at the thought. Introducing yourself to someone that angry and embarrassed was never a good idea. Especially when they were obviously in the middle of something else or needing to return to it, like the tray of coffee indicated. At least, not if you wanted it to go anywhere good anytime soon.
And, well...the more he saw of Stalker Panther, the more interested Jason was in him. The man was pretty, cute as hell, happy most of the time, apparently had a job with co-workers according to the coffee tray and business casual clothes, and the two of them seemed to share interests. Also, Panther seemed to be both gay and attracted to Jason. That was nothing to sneeze at.
Jason fully
intended to give the whole Hi, my name is Jason. Wanna get coffee? thing a try. He just needed a time that didn't coincide with a disaster or something else going on so that he stood a chance in hell of that opportunity to follow through that he'd been dwelling on.
Aiden slumped down in his desk chair and glared down at his to-go coffee cup.
"At least none of it landed on you." Ange's cheerful voice broke through Aiden's dour contemplations of how much of a fool he'd just made of himself.
He shoved his toes against the carpet to slowly turn his chair so he could glare at her.
"Coffee burns do suck." Rob just laughed when Aiden stared at him.
Aiden huffed and glared at his co-workers some more. "The bag landed on my head, Ange," he whined.
"Yeah, but no coffee burns," Rob said. He toasted Aiden with his shiny, new unsmashed cup.
"You guys both owe me a round." Aiden brandished his coffee at them. "I don't care if there were no coffee burns. I had to stand in line again, because no way was I not getting coffee after that." He thumped the paper cup down on his desk. "Plus, Hot Guy saw me on my ass on the pavement with muffins and danishes on my head. There's just no coming back from that." Aiden groaned mournfully and hid his face in his hands.
"Oh, sure there is." Ange scooted her own chair over and patted his knee. "I'm sure it wasn't that bad. Everybody falls on their ass now and then."
"Yeah, but he probably thinks I'm stalking him because of the whole everywhere thing. And apparently I'm a source of much amusement." Aiden raised his head and looked at Ange. "There are so many strikes against me I don't think I'm going to bother trying to actually talk to him. Ever. Forget how hot he is, I'm just hoping he doesn't call the cops."
Ange grinned, clearly amused at his expense. "Aiden, honey, I think you would at least have to make one of those magazine-cut-out letters before he would bother to call the cops. You should be safe for a while."
"Right. I'll just let you know if I find myself fighting off the urge to go buy a glue stick and visit the doctor's office, then, shall I?" Aiden sighed dramatically and slumped down in his chair. "Why couldn't we just have one of those cute movie meet-ups, fall desperately in love, and be done with it?" Aiden looked over at Ange because she was making weird sounds as she wheeled back to her desk. Her shoulders were shaking a little. He sighed again, though less dramatically this time. More resigned. "Stop holding your breath. Just go ahead and laugh at me. I acknowledge my pathetic state." She wheezed. He threw a wadded-up napkin at her. He missed, of course. She wheezed harder.
"Hey, maybe the whole pastries-on-the-head thing will negate some of the creepiness factor," Rob mused. "It's hard to be creepy with a pastry bag on your head." He cackled gleefully. "Maaaan, wish I had been there."
"Me, too," Aiden muttered. "Maybe the bag would have landed on your head."
Ange snickered and threw the napkin ball back at him. She didn't miss, and it bounced off his shoulder. "Back to work boys. Event deadlines wait for no man. Or woman. Unless you're the bride. Then maybe?" She gazed dreamily off into space. "Do you think an awards banquet would wait if the recipient was hit by a bus or something?"
Rob shook his head. "If they change their minds again I'm killing them so we can all sleep. We keep this up, one of us is going to sleepwalk into traffic and get hit by a bus."
"Well, at least it would be a more dramatic way to go. Who wants death by unsatisfactory vegetarian option?" Ange frowned at the papers on the table while she shuffled them around. "Why are the anniversary parties worse than the weddings? I don't get it."
Aiden went to stand behind her and examined the menu options she had spread across her desk. He patted her shoulder consolingly. "Because most of the brides know what they want, love. It's the mothers that give us problems. It's when they come in wanting the perfect day with no idea what perfect is that we have the big issues. Thus, the anniversary party and award banquet hell in which we currently reside."
Ange let out a whimper. "We need a new clause in the contract or something. Like, I acknowledge that the wrong food item will not bring about the apocalypse and I will not slay the event planners before dessert."
Rob had joined them, and he rested his hand on Ange's other shoulder. "Hey, at least we'd be guaranteed dessert then." He tapped one of the less extravagant, and therefore more feasible, options. "Now, do you think they would find gourmet fruit salad or some kind of fancy hummus least offensive?"
"Earth to Jason. Earth calling Jason. Come in Jason."
Jason jumped and spun around on the couch to face the voice. Why was the world fuzzy? He blinked his eyes into focus. His cousin's laughing face appeared in front of him. "What?"
"Were you stuck in a painting or something?"
Jason frowned. "Huh?"
Rina dropped into her classic hand on hip pose, her brown hair falling gracefully over her shoulders. "You were staring off into the horizon like you do when you're stuck in the art part of your brain. You certainly weren't reading that book you're holding. I was trying to find out if you're coming back on Friday for Mark's not-birthday dinner."
Book? Jason looked down. Oh. Right. He carefully closed the battered old paperback and set it on the coffee table before turning back to Rina. "Yeah, of course. Why's it his not-birthday dinner again?"
"Because he's pretending he's not turning thirty, but still wants yummy food."
Jason grinned at her annoyed huff. "Yeah, well. Your birthday dinners are kind of to die for, Rina. Everyone you cook one for spends at least two days coming up with the perfect menu to beg you for."
She bounced down onto the couch next to him and turned sideways to tuck her toes under his leg. "That's beside the point. I should make a new rule. No birthday feast unless you admit to the year or something."
"Yeah. And what about when you hit forty and want to pretend you're still twenty-seven?" Jason snickered.
"Let's not talk about that right now. Oh, don't go raising your eyebrows at me, mister. A woman can dodge an unfortunate question."
"Uh-huh. Whatever you say, sweet cousin." Jason grinned.
Rina smiled sweetly and tilted her head like a little bird. Uh-oh.
"So what were you painting in your head?" She asked. "Some pretty young thing you got commissioned for?"
Jason winced. Panther was pretty, but he had no desire whatsoever to admit to Rina that he'd been daydreaming in that particular direction. Maybe he could bluff his way out of this? "If by pretty young thing, you mean the show horse this lady sent me twenty pictures of. She wants a classic dressage pose in a painting for the living room wall."
Rina raised a brow and studied him. Apparently the bluff wasn't going to work this time.
"I don't buy it," she said firmly. "That wasn't pretty horsy face. That was pretty man face." She leaned forward and made puppy eyes. "Tell Rina all about him. Is he cute? Is he a painting or a real boy?"
"There's no pretty man," Jason protested.
"Bullshit. You just don't want to tell me about him. Spill. You know I'll win eventually anyway. Save yourself the agony and me the nagging." She checked her watch. "My darling brother is home with the little monsters in half an hour. You have that long to tell me everything I want to know. Now hurry up."
He glared mutinously. She just blinked innocently.
Jason sighed. He might as well just give in. It would be unpleasant, but easier. "He's a real boy, but I haven't actually met him."
"Ooo. A crush from afar. Do tell." Rina tucked her hands under her chin and watched him intently.
Jason thumped his head back against the couch and huffed out a breath. "He's gorgeous and I see him everywhere. Not quite every day, but close. I have no idea who he is. I've never actually spoken to the man. It's driving me crazy."
"You see lots of guys around the neighborhood. I mean, if you live by people you see them around, right? Why's it bugging you so much?"
"I have no idea. I think you were right on with the crush thing." He sighed. "I
'm thirty-one years old and I've got a crush on a guy I'm too chicken to talk to. How sad is that."
"Oh Jase, it's not that bad." She sat up straighter and leaned forward. "Now give me details. Details man. I must live vicariously through you as I have no love life."
He grinned and moved to face her so that they were leaning towards each other conspiratorially. "He's tall, dark, and handsome."
"Really?" Rina grinned.
"Yup. The dude's all tall and lanky. He has the capacity to be alarmingly cute. He has this dark hair that's always a mess, like he runs his fingers through it all the time. He apparently lives on coffee, because I always see him at that little café-type place down on second." Jason started to tick things off on his fingers. "I see him at the produce stand across from the coffee shop. We both shop at that bookstore with the cat logo on Palm St. He was in front of me in line at the grocery store. He was out with friends at the jazz club you took me to. He fell on his ass twenty feet from me. While carrying coffee he must have bought right after me." He dropped his hands back into his lap and stared at Rina imploringly.
She gaped at him. "So basically you see him everywhere so you know you must have stuff in common, he has friends, he's cute, you're totally smitten, and you haven't asked him out."
Jason thunked his head onto his knees and sighed. "I think he's even employed. He gets coffee for his co-workers."
Rina was quiet for a moment. "Um."
"I know."
"You're a stalker."
Jason groaned.
"What?"
"I kind of nicknamed him. Since I don't know his real name but I have to call him something, right?"
Rina stared at him. "What'd you name him?"
"Stalker Panther."
His cousin let out a startled laugh then slapped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes were huge over her hand. "Why panther?" she mumbled against her palm.
He sighed. "Because the first time I caught him looking at me, he was lounging at a table outside the coffee shop. He looked like this big cat laying out in the sun. He made me think of a panther. And the way he moves, especially if he's in a really good or really bad mood. He stalks around just like a great big cat."
