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Jack followed Ed’s outstretched hand to a spot in the back right corner of the diner. Interesting choice.
The overweight middle-aged man nodded lazily, grabbed two menus, and led them to the table.
“Someone will be right with you.”
“This okay?” Ed asked when they were alone.
“Very, very okay.”
A thirtysomething faux-blonde waitress, dressed all in black, dropped off two plastic glasses of water, took their drink order, and melted out of Jack’s consciousness.
Jack leaned back into the cool plastic-cushioned booth. Even under harsh lighting, Ed looked good. Tossed sandy hair gleamed, and his eyes twinkled green and brown, a little freckle hopping as he caught Jack staring and smiled.
Jack’s pulse spiked, and he stirred on his seat. Surely Ed wasn’t clueless enough to miss Jack checking him out?
Ed leaned his corded forearms on the edge of the table as he perused the menu. “What are you getting?”
“Um… just fries to go with the Coke.” He glanced at the poster above their table on the wall. Classic Harley. All the posters in the diner were of model bikes. “That’s so cool.”
“You mentioned your interest in motorcycles earlier, so….”
Jack’s cheeks tingled. He gulped down a quarter of his soda the moment the waitress handed it to him.
“Do you like to ride?”
Jack nearly choked on his drink. “Huh?”
Ed jerked a finger to the poster. “Bikes? You might be a mechanical klutz, but are you a klutz that can ride?”
“If I had a vehicle—I’d be showing you that answer.”
Ed hesitated and tipped back his drink, Adam’s apple working with every swallow. He set the glass down and finally looked over. “I might to have access to a bike if you are ever up for it.”
Jack flashed Ed a lazy grin. “Definitely up for it. You want us to go out again?”
Ed glanced across the diner toward the exit. “I don’t really click with many of the guys from my night classes.”
Fuck it, was this the friends thing again? Or was Ed having a hard time spitting out that he was interested?
“Clicking is a good start,” Jack said.
Ed shifted. Nodded. The blush creeping up his neck held Jack’s attention. He liked what he imagined it said.
Ed clasped his hands together. “When you’re not at Harrison, where’s home?”
He was only asking where Jack hailed from, but this was probably the point to tell him his parents were dead.
Jack touched the chain around his neck, fighting another wave of panic. Just say it. “Home is in Haverford, Pennsylvania. But my parents—” The words stuck in his throat and came out husky. “—aren’t around anymore. They died.”
“Ah, shit.” Ed unlaced his hands and stretched one halfway across the table as if to cover one of Jack’s. He stopped at the saltshaker and clutched its base instead. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Jack exhaled slowly, a “thanks” mixed in, but barely audible. After four years, he thought he had a better grip on his feelings. But the pain had never totally gone away; every now and then it resurfaced, wrapped in a memory of his parents laughing or crossing their arms and grounding him.
He forced himself to focus on the now. The very good—if confusing—now, with a very cute guy who was softly smiling at him. “It’s a bit of a difficult subject sometimes. But don’t feel you can’t ask. You won’t hurt my feelings.”
The little laugh he gave was as much to calm himself as to lighten the mood.
Ed relaxed, and a whiff of a smile crossed his lips. “Okay… so… um, you mentioned Marcus was like a brother. Did his family adopt you?”
“All but officially. Long story.” One he didn’t want to go into right then.
Their waitress returned for their food order.
“How’s the Seafood Newberg?” Ed asked without looking up from the menu. Jack stifled a snort.
“Best you’ll ever have. We’re famous for it.” The waitress rolled her eyes, not cracking a smile. “You want that over rice or noodles?”
“How about a bacon cheeseburger, medium.”
Shaking her head, she wrote something down on her pad. “The chef will be so disappointed. Lettuce, tomato, and onions?”
“No onions, thanks.” He shot Jack a glance before looking back at the woman.
“Got it,” she said. “How about you, hon?”
“Just fries.”
“You want cheese on those?”
“No thank you, ma’am.”
“You’re too young to be watching your weight, hon.” She grabbed his almost empty glass before she left. “I’ll be right back with a refill.”
“Sorry.” Ed shook his head, grinning at Jack. “I forgot to warn you, they serve everything here with a side of attitude.”
The grin looked good on him. “Clearly you’ve been here before.”
“Yeah, I take my dad every couple of months.”
“You take him or he takes you?”
“I take him.” Ed studied that saltshaker again. “Dad got laid off when the tool and die shop closed five years ago. Hasn’t been able to find a decent job since. When I was a kid, every other Saturday he and I would go out for breakfast. He took my sister the other weekend.
