Evernight Publishing
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2014 Rebecca Brochu
ISBN: 978-1-77130-709-3
Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs
Editor: Melissa Hosack
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
For you, as always.
NEXT TO YOU
Romance on the Go TM
Rebecca Brochu
Copyright © 2014
Chapter One
Ricci slumped down in his seat as the day finally caught up with him. He’d spent hours out in the sun hauling materials and overseeing the construction of the building his company was working on. Ever since Aldo, his site manager, had left him high and dry, Ricci had ran himself ragged in an effort to stay on top of the paperwork and other problems that always arose on a build site. On top of that, he’d let one of his guys drive his truck, and Drake had somehow managed to total the fucking thing. Ricci was pissed about the truck, but he was undeniably thankful that Drake had managed to walk away from the crash without a scratch. That still didn’t change the fact that Ricci would have to ride the subway until he could get another vehicle.
The only problem was that almost all of his money was tied up in either the new job site or the house he’d finally broken down and bought. As he was currently in the middle of restoring said house, a new truck wasn’t in the cards for him at the moment. Ricci knew he could get one easily on credit or through a bank loan, but after growing up poor and living hand to mouth through college, the idea of having yet another monthly bill before the current job he was on was fully settled didn’t sit well with him.
He knew he could have gotten Drake to give him a ride, out of guilt if for no other reason, or he could have asked one of his other men to take him home each night. Odds were they would have been glad to. The crew he employed were all close and got along fairly well, but he lived a good distance away from both his main office and the current building site. His house was all the way on the outer edge of the city, and the idea of asking one of them to go so far out of their way every day until he got himself sorted out was something he’d been reluctant to do. The majority of his men had families, and he’d never felt right keeping any of them out longer than absolutely necessary. So, instead, he’d resigned himself to an undetermined amount of long, exhausting subway rides and finally getting some mileage out of the Metro Card he renewed every year no matter what.
It seemed as if it had been one thing gone wrong after another for Ricci, and he was desperate for a hot shower, a beer, and a goodnight’s sleep. He pressed his neck against the hard edge of the seat and tilted his head back until he could stare at the ceiling of the subway car. He let his thoughts drift as he kept an eye and a portion of his attention on the rest of the passengers and tried to relax as best he could. He had a long ride ahead of him until the end of the subway line, and then he’d still have to catch a bus or walk for the short last leg of the journey.
Ricci blinked lazily, mind hazy and drifting, when someone cleared their throat softly to the right of him.
“Do you mind if I sit here?” The voice was low and soft but distinctly masculine with the barest hint of an accent. Ricci shook his head sharply to clear his mind and then forced himself to look up. The man standing beside the vacant seat was tall and lean, his shoulders wide and his skin pale but healthy looking, shades lighter than Ricci’s own olive complexion. His hair, a disheveled halo of mahogany spikes, framed his thin face and tired golden eyes attractively.
“I said, do you mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is taken.” The man adjusted the strap of the messenger bag that hung from his shoulder and swayed forward slightly with the movement of the train. The ends of his long black wool coat flared out around him enough for Ricci to get a look at the white padded chef’s jacket the man wore but not enough for him to make out the name that was embroidered on the chest in golden thread.
The man cleared his throat again, and Ricci was jolted out of his daze guiltily. He forced himself to sit up and reach over to grab the small backpack he’d placed in the seat beside him earlier. The guy looked as exhausted as Ricci was, and he felt like an asshole for making him repeat himself.
“Sorry, man, my mind was elsewhere. Sit.” He gestured towards the open seat with a wave of his hand.
“Thank you.” The man practically fell into the open seat and the scent of burnt sugar and chocolate wafted off of him and over to Ricci who had to force himself not to inhale too deeply.
The stranger settled into the seat and Ricci found himself stealing small sidelong glances at him from out of the corner of his eye. His gaze was drawn to the man’s hands, to his long and narrow fingers; the nails were shaped into smooth ovals and clean unlike Ricci’s own dirty and oil streaked hands. The man made Ricci feel hyper aware of his own body. Of the way that his arms strained against the material of his durable flannel shirt and his thighs bunched out against the worn material of his old jeans. Of the way his own dark hair curled around the nape of his neck and brushed the collar of his work shirt. Ricci was especially conscious of the way he knew he smelled, like sweat and grease, and that he was surely sporting matching rings underneath his own green eyes.
The sort of awkward and yet comfortable silence that was only possible on public transport grew in the air between them. For the first time in a long time Ricci found himself wanting to start a conversation with a complete stranger on the train. Normally he tried his best to stay in his own space whenever he traveled this way. He tried to make himself as nonthreatening and as respectful of other people’s privacy as possible. Ricci blamed his exhaustion on his bag being in the seat beside him instead of on the floor in the first place. Despite all of that, despite his habit of keeping his head down and his mouth shut, he wanted to strike up a conversation with this guy.
The chef beside him leaned back in his seat like Ricci had earlier and closed his eyes with a heavy sigh. Ricci felt the urge slip away from him when he once again saw how obviously tired the stranger was. He leaned as close to the window beside him as he could and tried to let his mind wander off again. After a while, his eyes felt as heavy and gritty as they had before, and he could feel himself begin to drift off no matter how hard he tried to fight it. Between one breath and another, he drifted off to sleep.
* * * *
Ricci woke up slowly as his body fought him to hold on to the last lingering threads of sleep. He blinked carefully a few times in an attempt to bring his bring his eyes into focus and was unable to help the way his body tensed when he felt the warm weight of someone leaning against his side. Ricci carefully turned his head and had to force himself not to jump in surprise when he practically buried his face in thick, dark brown hair. For a moment he was confused but then the smell of burnt sugar and chocolate wafted up to him. He realized with a flash of clarity that the chef, the guy who’d caught his attention so easily earlier, must have fallen asleep as well.
A light snore caught his attention and the still sleepy grin that broke across his face was purely a reflex. Strangely unperturbed about the idea of some strange guy falling asleep on his shoulder, Ricci took a second to look around the subway car. He was surprised to see that it was almost empty and a quick glance at the watch on his wrist confirmed the fact that it was later than he’d though
t possible. He’d fallen asleep on the subway many times before but never long enough to really matter, never more than a few minutes of quick sleep before his instincts woke him up. He’d never slept the entire ride through. Just then the announcement went out over the loudspeaker for the end of the line, and it hit him with a jolt that the guy on his shoulder might have missed his stop.
“Hey, man, wake up.” Ricci carefully nudged the guy’s head with the shoulder it rested on. He wanted to wake him up, not scare him, and even though Ricci knew he was in a situation where he had every right to be upset, it was the last thing on his mind. Instead, his mind was stuck on the fact that he was actually comfortable enough to fall asleep beside a complete stranger in the first place. He must have been way more exhausted than he’d thought earlier.
“Come on now, wake up.” Ricci reached his other arm over to tap the chef on the shoulder. The man groaned low in his throat, and Ricci could just see the way his nose crinkled in displeasure as he burrowed his face deeper into his shoulder. Ricci had a perfect view of the way the guy’s shoulders stiffened a few seconds later. He knew his seatmate had finally figured out that something obviously wasn’t right.
“You finally awake?” Ricci figured he’d cut the guy some slack and make an effort to break the silence and hopefully diffuse the situation before it could get too awkward. He watched, amused, as the guy slowly raised himself up off of his shoulder so that he could look Ricci in the face. His golden brown eyes looked better than before, like the little bit of sleep they’d both gotten had done him a bit of good. After he blinked a few times in obvious surprise, Ricci could see the awareness returning to his face.
“I am so sorry.” The stranger whispered, accent more apparent thanks to the sleepy rasp he had developed. Ricci watched in fascination as the tips of his ears flushed a deep red in apparent embarrassment. “I don’t normally fall asleep on strangers on the Tube, I swear.”
Ricci could see the guy was building up to some sort of heartfelt apology and he was too tired and too aware of the fact that his seatmate was also exhausted to worry about it.
“Look, don’t worry about it. It’s the end of the line, so we need to hurry up and get off.” Ricci stood up slowly and waved his hand towards the window where the platform was just coming into view. “Besides, I fell asleep too so there’s really no harm done. Just hope you didn’t miss your stop.”
“Oh no. I’m afraid I’ll still have to take a cab to get back to my flat afterwards. Unfortunately.” The man frowned slightly as he climbed to his feet, adjusted his bag, and straightened out his coat in a few short movements before he turned his attention back towards Ricci. “Thanks for being so good about it all.”
“It’s the subway, I’ve seen people do worst things than fall asleep.” Ricci didn’t feel like being charming or overly polite, so he went for blunt and hoped he didn’t come across as too much of an asshole.
Silence fell between the two of them as the train ground to a halt and the doors slid open. Ricci rolled his shoulders and slung his pack over his back. With a slight nod towards his former seatmate, who smiled slightly and gave him a two figured wave in return, Ricci made his way out onto the platform and towards the stairs. He tried to put the guy out of his mind, tried to focus on thoughts of home, of a hot shower and slipping naked into the cool sheets he’d picked out and spent far too much money on. Alert in a way he hadn’t been on the train since he was up and moving about, Ricci tried not to think about how good the guy’s warm weight had felt against his side, how he’d smelt sugar sweet and delicious.
He tried not to think of the fact that the train ride he’d just had was the first time he’d just slept with someone else in what felt like forever. He tried not to think of how good it felt despite the fact that it had happened with a complete stranger. He tried not to focus on the thought that he should have at least gotten the other man’s name. It was a once in a lifetime thing that Ricci knew the odds of it being repeated were slim to none, so he tried to push all of it out of his mind.
Still the smell of burnt sugar and chocolate stayed with him until he got home and slipped, freshly showered and heavy eyed, into his bed.
Chapter Two
Ricci made sure he was on the train at the same time the next day and kept his eye out for the chef despite telling himself it was a onetime occurrence. When the ride passed without him catching sight of his wayward seat companion that night and then the next, he gave up hope and did his best to forget about the odd occurrence. He chalked it up to a possible missed connection and vowed not to get stuck focusing on some guy he’d only seen once.
Two days later and once again almost unbelievably exhausted, Ricci slumped down in his seat on the train and was proud of the fact that he didn’t immediately watch the door for any sign of his stranger. He made sure his bag was respectfully at his feet before he turned his head and watched the walls of the subway tunnel pass him by until he had to close his eyes to keep from getting dizzy.
“Hello again.” A soft, tired voice spoke from beside him. Ricci turned and to his surprise saw the chef standing in front of the vacant seat beside him.
“Do you mind again?” The guy gestured towards the seat as if asking for permission, and Ricci quickly nodded even as he noticed that the stranger still looked as exhausted as he felt despite the time that had passed. “I’ll try not to fall asleep on you this time, I swear.”
“I didn’t know being a chef was so exhausting.” Ricci winced as soon as the words were out and hoped he hadn’t insulted the guy. Exhaustion sometimes made him unbearably blunt.
Fortunately the man just dropped down in the seat beside Ricci and chuckled lightly as he rubbed tiredly at his eyes.
“Normally I think I’d be offended, but you look as exhausted as I feel so I’ll chalk that comment up to tactless but genuine curiosity.” Ricci watched as the guy lifted his head to smile and stick out a friendly hand. “Also, I’m the only pâtissier at a shop that normally has two, so I believe I’m entitled to being exhausted. Oh and my name is Layton, Layton Callis.”
“Ricci DeAngelo, an equally understaffed and overworked contractor. Nice to officially meet you.” Ricci smiled as they clasped hands. Layton’s grip was firm and his skin was cool. Ricci felt another flash of interest at the way Layton’s long thin fingers curved around his own.
“I figured it would be best to introduce myself since I like to at least know the names of the people I sleep with.” Layton ran a hand through his hair as he spoke, and Ricci couldn’t help but track the movement as it made the already disheveled spikes even wilder. Then, as if he suddenly realized what he’d said, Layton’s face flushed a deep red. “I-I mean…I-I didn’t… not that we… Shit.”
Ricci tossed his head back and laughed harder than he had in weeks. Even more than before, when he’d had the memory of how good Layton felt pressed up against his side, Ricci found himself charmed by the way Layton stumbled over the words.
“I had the exact same thought the other night when I got off the train, so I’m pretty sure that makes us even now.” Ricci said this in hopes it would calm Layton down. To his pleased surprise it seemed to actually work.
“Oh thank God. I thought I was going to get punched again or something.” Layton practically melted in the seat beside him, and Ricci had to stifle another amused yet sympathetic snort at how tired but relieved the other man looked.
Layton’s legs were spread wide, his hair was wild and his eyes squeezed shut, the skin beneath them dark with exhaustion, as he slumped in the seat.
Ricci was so distracted by the sight, it took a moment for what the other man said to sink in. “Wait, that happens a lot? You getting punched by strangers on the subway?” He asked half horrified and half intrigued.
Layton cracked open one eye and peered over at Ricci blearily before he sighed and let it drift closed again.
“More often than I like to admit or acknowledge because it makes me sound far creepier or rude than I real
ly am. Remind me to tell you about the old woman and her umbrella sometime…” Layton’s voice was faint and drowsy sounding, and when Ricci looked over at him, he was shocked to see his chest rising and falling in a gentle, even rhythm.
“Layton?” Ricci called his name softly. He arched a brow when the only reply he got was for Layton to drift closer to his side as the train shook. Soon, Layton’s head was once again resting on his shoulder. Ricci thought about trying again, thought about reaching out and shaking him awake. Then he focused his attention on the dark circles beneath Layton’s eyes, on the way his face looked younger, less pinched and more natural in his sleep. He didn’t have the heart to wake him, not with a similar sort of exhaustion nipping at his own heels.
It was strange, letting a guy he’d met once sleep on him in the subway. Ricci knew it was, but it didn’t really faze him. Instead, he carefully reached down to unclip his phone from his belt. He thumbed through his apps until he could set an alarm for right before the end of the subway line, then he put it back in its place. Ricci tipped his head to the side and inhaled the sweet smell that wafted off of Layton for a few seconds before he leaned back again, careful not to disturb his seatmate.
They were both obviously exhausted, and Layton’s warmth at his side was a welcome and comfortable change that put something inside of Ricci at ease. So since Layton had willingly approached him again after their first meeting, Ricci decided to take advantage of the situation. He was going to operate under the assumption that he wouldn’t wake up with an angry pâtissier going for his throat and get an hour or so of much needed sleep. If it did by some chance cause a problem, he’d take care of it when he woke up.
Next To You Page 1
