by Alex Roberts
My throat tightened. The smell of freshly brewed coffee filtered through the apartment. The coffee maker bubbled, and there was a click when it shut off. On the countertop, I found a folded note underneath a coffee mug.
Took bus back to Jasper. Made coffee. Hope it’s still warm. Thank you for the ride last night. And the lift from the club. You don’t have any breakfast food around here. Still need to make you a good bran muffin. Call me.
His number was scratched beneath. I tried to smile, but I couldn’t. Any attempt to feel joy was only met with a sinking feeling in my chest. Was that an invitation for next time? So, I could call him up and do the same thing over again? No. I couldn’t. Not anymore. Whatever the hell that was that happened last night, I couldn’t pretend it was casual. Damn it, I shouldn’t get so consumed.
I read over his note again. Dammit, I wish he’d stuck around so we could talk. God, I sounded like a girl. We’d talked plenty last night. I tried to pick up the tone of his note. Okay, so he wanted to bake me muffins. Was that a joke, or did he want to do this again and stick around for breakfast next time. I took a moment to picture Jamie cooking in my kitchen. I liked it. But then – just – call me.
I hadn’t really explained why I’d followed him into the club, not really. I mean, sure, I apologized for throwing him out. Was that enough? Did he know what I meant? Were we cool? Did we have forward momentum? Did I want forward momentum?
I poured myself a cup of coffee into the mug Jamie had picked out for me. I shivered remembering his breath on my skin, his eyes — gorgeous and provocative — gazing into mine, the barely contained passion in his touch, and those words. Can I… Can you what?
I resisted the urge to dial up his number right away and pocketed it for a later time when – just not too much later. Well. Maybe, I should just thank him for making coffee. It was actually really good. Better than usual. That wouldn’t be lame. It would be considerate.
I punched in his number and let it ring as I explored my cabinets. Jamie was right. I had no breakfast food. I should at least go pick up some cereal. I was pondering the merits of Honey Nut Cheerios against reliving my childhood with a little Lucky Charms when his voice caught me off guard.
“Hello?”
“Hey. Jamie. It’s Brandon.”
His tone went cheerful. “Good morning. Sorry for leaving like that, but I have training scheduled with Don, and you were out, man.”
“Oh, no, that’s fine. I just wanted to thank you for making coffee. It’s great.”
“It’s your coffee.”
Shit. “I know. It’s just. Really good. Thank you.”
“No problem. I have found out that I like making you coffee. And that you need to go shopping.”
“I know. I’m thinking cereal with marshmallows, or maybe some pop tarts.”
“Dude. Seriously? Real food.”
“That’s real food.”
“How are you not four hundred pounds?”
I heard masculine voices in the background. “Oh, hey, sounds like you’re at the gym. You probably have to go, right?”
“Pretty soon. Say, there was a recruiter at that pro fight last night. He wants to see the guy fight again.”
I wasn’t tracking – on multiple fronts. “A recruiter? Why is there a recruiter if the guy was already pro?”
“A recruiter for a league – like the UFC. It’s one thing to have a pro fight, but if you can sign a contract with an actual league – that’s when the fights really start coming your way.”
“Okay, so…”
“So, remember me telling you Don wanted me to fight the guy from last night?”
“Yeah…”
“His couch and Don got together, and anyway, long story short – I’m having a pro fight! And, it’s moved up. I only have two weeks to cut weight and be ready.”
I sipped at my delicious coffee as he explained, trying to sort it all out. Honestly, I had no clue what that entailed. I was familiar with at least one thing. “Cut weight? How much?”
“Not that much. I try to keep as much of it off as possible, but I need to shed about ten pounds.”
My imagination ran over his body, trying to picture what inch of that chiseled body was going to lose fat. “How are you going to lose weight? I mean, from where?”
“You’d be surprised. It’s mostly water weight. I’ll be exhausted as you were last night, but I’ll do it.”
I choked on my fucking coffee.
Jamie must’ve pulled his phone away from his mouth, because his “Be right there” was muffled.
“Gotta go?” I asked.
“Yeah. Bran?”
“What’s up?”
“I’m not going to have a whole lot of spare time the next couple weeks, but I want to try to see you, okay?”
“Good. I want to eat your muffins.”
A moment of silence spread over the line. “Bran. That was really awkward.”
“I know. Sorry. That didn’t come out right.”
I muffled chuckle made it across the wire. “You are so weird. I love it.”
My throat seized down. It was just a word. He didn’t even mean it like that. Then why the panic? Settle down, it was just an expression.
“Bran?”
“Yeah?”
“I gotta go.”
“Okay. Later.”
***
Jamie called me that night, and we talked more about what his training schedule would look like and what kind of flax went into bran muffins. Over the next few days, the calls became shorter and then worked their way into text messages. I wouldn’t call. I knew we’d find each other again, but I pocketed the note he’d written me that morning, keeping it in my wallet everywhere I went. At least the notion was still there.
The next Wednesday, I promised Sue I’d unload the truck, even though I was growing tired of the job. All of it. School was looking more appealing all the time. Why had I agreed to it, again? Oh, right, I wanted to catch Jamie when he came, but for the last two weeks, it was always a different delivery guy. Less and less information had been passed as even our text messages grew shorter. I should have asked if he quit his job, though I knew it wasn’t likely, considering his obligations. Maybe he was on a different route, or at least driving a different shift.
I threw my coat over the top of the door and tied my apron around my waist, the whole time debating if I should ask Sue to put someone else on the truck for next week. If this fight worked out for Jamie the way he wanted it to, I wasn’t sure if I’d be seeing him then, either. Maybe this was all a bad idea, after all, just like my brain had been trying to tell me all along. Jamie’s type. They wanted their rough fuck, and he’d gotten his.
“Truck’s going to be a little late tonight,” Sue said as she came out of the office.
Figures. “Okay.”
“Guy called. Said probably around midnight or so.”
Again? “You’d think they wouldn’t run so late.” I pushed down the urge to ask if the guy’s name was James, not wanting to explain myself. So, I pinned my name tag to the outside of the apron and adjusted it, instead.
“Yeah. They have a terrible record.” She stood at the register, double counting my cash drawer. “Always have.”
I clocked in and went right to work straightening up shelves of haphazardly placed chips and powdered donuts. I had an hour to wait, an hour to wonder if Jamie would be here, or if it would be the other driver again. At least it was clear outside. The snow was already melting away from the day’s sunshine, so I should have more customers tonight.
“Well, have a good night.” The chime above of the door rang, and Sue was gone.
Taking a deep breath, I headed into the back room to change the radio station from slow, droning country to my hard rock and then wandered back out into the store and cleaned up the pop counter. The coffee was new, surprisingly, so I poured myself a cup with sugar and hazelnut cream to the mix. Tasted decent. Sweet. Nutty. Nothing like his, though. I breathed dee
p. Here I was. My life on night shift.
Maybe my mom was right. Maybe I just needed to pick something and stick with it. At least a respectable job would come with, well, respect. I wouldn’t have to wear an apron and a nametag. I’d glanced through the local community colleges website and browsed their Spring offerings. There were a couple business classes that caught my eye.
I pulled out my phone and got into the app store and searched podcasts, punching in names that sounded familiar until I finally came across it. The podcast Jamie said he listened to while trying to help his coach out at the gym. The Saturated Small Business Boys. Weird name, but I perused the list, and the further down I got in the history, the more intriguing it got. A lot of details on starting and running a business. Color me interested.
A swift gush of wind blew against my back as the door opened and closed. “Grab a six pack, baby,” the man told his girlfriend and then disappeared into the bathroom.
I pocketed my phone and scurried back to the register. She browsed the liquor coolers and picked up an expensive pack of bottles. They clanked together as she made her way to the front.
“ID?” I punched in the price of the beer in the computer.
She sighed and pulled out her card from her pocket. I glanced at it and then spotted her boyfriend coming up behind her. He swung his arm around her neck possessively.
“Hey, man. How far is Jasper from here?” he asked.
I swallowed. God, if only I didn’t know who was in Jasper right now. “Fifty miles west.”
“Thanks.” He tipped his head, grabbed the pack from the countertop, and escorted her outside.
I let a breath escape. Yeah, no way it would be Jamie tonight, but only time would tell.
The hour passed by slow. I cleaned, organized, stocked the cigarette displays, and talked to some old guy about the upcoming fishing season – all before I heard the familiar wail of the delivery truck’s horn at the back door.
I hurried to the storeroom, my heart fluttering and my legs trembling, and wedged the door open for the driver. He was in his truck doing something; it seemed to take forever until he finally turned the engine off and stepped out.
With the clipboard in my hands, I stared at the list of supplies but couldn’t read it. Instead, I wondered just who it would be. For some damned reason, I couldn’t look up. The back door on the truck slid open, footsteps pounded inside the backend, and the ramp slid out of the truck and thumped on the ground.
Enough was enough. The wait was killing me. I stepped around to peer inside the truck at the shadow of a figure moving boxes. How could anyone see in there?
“Hey,” I said. “Running pretty late, huh?”
With a dolly in hand, the driver pushed the pile of boxes down the ramp and stopped as he got to the ground. “Always am,” he said and lifted the hood away from his face.
My eyes widened, and my jaw dropped. “Jamie?” I blinked. He stood with a smile and nodded. He was lean. I never thought ten pounds could take that much off a man, but dear Lord, he was Grade A bitable.
“Keep it in your pants; I’m working,” he answered with a chuckle. “What are you doing here?”
“Um, working.”
“Durr. I meant, Carly usually works Wednesdays.”
Why was I suddenly so jealous of Carly? “I was hoping to catch you.
“What? Hoping for a blizzard to blow through?”
My face flushed. I lowered my head. Now that he put it that way, what was I really expecting? Gee, Jamie, I just wanted to see you again and talk for a little – so I picked up a whole shift. That sounded pretty lame.
The things I didn’t know about Jamie really started to add up. Was he keeping in touch because he wanted another night of hot sex. Which wouldn’t be bad, but I’d rather go out, talk, the usual stuff that the usual people did… I know, not very 21st century of me. I guess I was an old fashioned guy at heart — liking dates, and peaceful nights at home with a movie, sex or not. All I really knew about Jamie’s designs on me is that he wanted to bake me muffins. And he called me weird?
The chime of the bell sounded out in the store. “I better get out there.”
He bobbed his head and pulled the dolly away from the stack. “I’ll get the rest of the boxes.”
Damn, too bad it wasn’t another snowy night. I’d be tempted to close up the store, turn off all the lights, and not go anywhere. Jamie would be a prisoner here with me. We’d hold each other, fuck each other senseless, and — holy hell, I needed to stop, now. My body trembled as I stumbled back around the counter.
The fountain machine hissed as a young couple grabbed drinks. They chatted about the road conditions in the next state. “Think we should rent a room in Jasper. They’re reporting blizzard white out conditions further west.”
Blizzard white out conditions? If only it was heading this way. I willed away any thoughts. I’d watched the weather before heading out the door. That storm was moving south.
They came up to the counter and paid for their drinks before leaving. The quiet returned, besides for the lunk of boxes being brought in the back door. Jamie… I eased away from the register.
He disappeared back up the ramp. Slowly, I meandered around to the back of the truck. His shadow moved about, and the truck jerked as he positioned boxes around. Then, he walked out in the dull light of the lamp and stopped in the middle of the ramp. “That’s everything.”
“Oh?” Already? “So, you have more stops tonight?”
Jamie sauntered down the ramp, stopping in front of me on the ground. Jesus, this was killer. I hoped he’d say No then grab me and kiss me and tell me he wanted to go back to my place and…
“No, but I have to get the truck back to the warehouse,” he said then picked up the ramp and slid it back inside the truck. He jumped on the back, reached up, and pulled down the door until it slammed tight.
I swallowed down the tightness in my throat. This strange moment, like two people meeting again after a one night stand, was making me nervous. Oh hell, I guess that was all it was then, a fling? The drop in communications – I was being let off. The things he said and wrote – just the stuff a guy says to someone he has just fucked. Routine.
“Oh… I probably should start on inventory, then.”
I turned to step away, but his hand caught my arm. “Hold up. I’m sorry I stopped calling, Brandon. I…” His voice trembled as it waned. “I’ve been getting really busy preparing for this fight, and I know you don’t like it—”
“Don’t like what?”
“The whole fighting thing.”
“I never said I don’t like it.”
“Really? Cuz you kinda flipped out on me this one time.”
“Yes, I did. But then I came looking for you to apologize. Right?”
Jamie considered his boots for a little while. “So, you wanna come check out my gym?”
I quirked an eyebrow at him. “Like, workout with you?”
That cocky grin I liked so much came back. “No. I just want you to check it out. See what we’re like.”
“So, you want me to watch you workout? Don’t you think that’s a bit self-aggrandizing?”
“College boy and his big words.”
I managed a casual shrug. “We academics can’t help it. Say, I downloaded that podcast—”
“Which one?”
“SSBB. Some of the episode titles reminded me of a couple courses at the community college this Spring. I think I might go for it.”
His smile lit his eyes. “I’m glad.”
There it was again – in his eyes. That something which hung between us in the hallway a couple weeks ago. I tried to take hold of it, but it still escaped me. I knew one thing: the silence in that little back room had a comfort to it, like I didn’t mind just standing around with the guy.
“Which gym?”
“Ramirez Judo.”
“Judo?”
“Yeah, that’s how Don got started, but he has his purple belt in Jiu Jit
su and event spent a summer in Thailand learning Mau Tai.”
“Huh?”
His voice got hushed. “You’ll pick up on it. You’re coming?”
“When will you be there?”
“Tomorrow at nine.”
“Nine? As in Oh-nine-hundred?”
“Yes. Morning. I know you’re just getting off work, but there’s a shower in the bathroom.”
“I don’t exactly keep a spare change of clothes in my trunk.”
“You don’t have to.”
I did a little math in my head. Off at seven, to Jasper by quarter to, snag a coffee. “Sure.”
His chest swelled, and I could tell the guy was trying hard to contain his smile. “I’d like that.”
I ran my fingers through my hair, my brain trying to compartmentalize things. I liked boxes, and I liked people to go in them. Sue was in my boss box, Carly was in my coworker box, I had a good handful of people in a few different friend boxes, but where could I put Jamie?
“Did you just ask me out on a date?”
“Don’t dates include food?”
“You already bought me pizza.”
“Guess I did.” He looked out toward the front on the shop, contemplating something. “Do grown men date?”
“Sure, they do. How else do you get to know a guy?”
“Fuck ‘em.”
I face planted into my palms and mumbled, “You are such an ass hat.”
“Is that any way to talk to the guy you’re dating?”
I dropped my hands and looked into those gorgeous eyes. “Now we’re dating?”
“Not if you keep calling me an ass hat. I have feelings, Bran.”
I needed to hide my shit eating grin, so I turned with my clip board to inspect the boxes he’d brought in, shaking my head the whole time. I listened keenly, but my brain didn’t perk up with any boner killing warnings this time around.
Jamie’s tone held a hint of nervousness. “Cool. Don’s been wanting to meet my boyfriend.”
I didn’t turn to him, but the word hit my heart like a hammer. It sent a thrill all the way down to my guy, and my stomach flipped. It’d been years since I’d had a boyfriend, and I really liked the way it sounded coming off his lips. I could get used to it.
