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But it also makes me feel alive again. LessZen, morezap.
He’s giving me everything I didn’t know I needed.
So I’m going to do everything to give him the same.
22
Ford
While I waitat Killer Brew’s outside cafe for my coffee, I grin at anyone whose eye I meet. Most people are friendly, used to seeing me around town, but there are still those who are wary of me. A few people hurry to avert their stares, but at least I get a couple of smiles in return.
And even the rude gossips can’t bring me down, not when their words mean shit all to me. Orson clearly doesn’t care about their hatred, which is a huge relief. But I can’t stop wondering if he’d feel the same, knowing the full story.
It’s definitely something we’ll need to talk about at some point, but it’s not the kind of thing I tell just anyone. I don’t want it getting out, and I’d want to be sure we’re tough as nails before we go into all that.
“Hey, Ford,” Beau says, placing his usual order.
I pretend to check a watch I don’t have and send a smirk his way. “This is late for you. Normally, you meet Marty at lunchtime.”
His face screws up. “I, ah, maybe forgot? So I’m running over to try and meet him before he finishes work. I’m the worst friend, I swear.”
I press my lips together before answering because Beau is … scattered. To put it nicely. Even I know that, and outside of running into Beau now and then when we’re both here at the same time, we’re not really friends. He’s been best buddies with Marty since they were kids, and he’s now dating Marty’s brother, Payne. Obviously, those Walker brothers don’t mind a little absentmindedness in their lives.
After Beau orders, I lean around the coffee machine to the barista. “Excuse me, could you bump his order before mine? He’s in a hurry.”
“Sure thing.” She switches our dockets around.
“You sure?” Beau asks.
I shrug. “I’ve got nowhere to be.”
“God. Thank you.”
I chuckle over how stressed he sounds because I’d be willing to put money down that Marty won’t care, but at least this shows he isn’t careless when he fucks up.
I’m about to ask Beau about his book when someone else wanders over to us.
“Hey, Fordy,” Molly says with a little shake of his shoulders.
I chuckle at the dumb name he’s always called me. “Hey, darlin’. How you doing?”
“Good. Will and I were going to pick up a few things from the market for Dad, and I saw you over here.” He smiles big and pretty. “I wanted to come say hey.”
The way he blinks innocently up at me has this sliver ofoh shittrickling down my spine. I’ve always been flirty, always liked a bit of attention, and Molly’s a hot guy even though he’s … mid-twenties, I think? A bit too young for me. And the overall impression I get from him is that he’d get clingy fast.
Especially with the look he’s giving me now.
I’ve always liked that look from guys, the unashamed perving, the little bit of awe and want all mixed up together, but that was when I was looking for anyone to keep me company. I have an incredible guy I’m working on starting something with, and it’s not fair on Molly to let him think there’s something here when there’s not.
Feeling like a dick, I pull back and close off some of my friendliness. “Enjoy your shopping.”
“You should come with? I haven’t seen you around much lately.”
And now I’m stuck. Orson said he didn’t mind people knowing about us, but I still don’t know whatusthere is. So I stretch the truth. Awkwardly. “Actually, I’m on my way home to the boyfriend. Gotta cook him dinner. Yeah. We’re gonna have pork, maybe some beans and rice …” Holy shit, what is happening? I’m sweating like a cheater hooked up to a polygraph, desperately trying not to mess this up, and it’s making mereallymess this up.
Molly’s staring at me like I’ve randomly popped out another appendage. “Boyfriend?Who?”
“It’s new. We’re still on the down-low.”
