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I eye this interloper, unsure who he is and why he’s here. Not that I mind. He sure is something to look at. He doesn’t blend in at all. Honestly, it makes me feel a little homesick.
“And you drove all the way here?” I ask, not quite sure I understand. Because listen, people in California don’t just drive an hour away to visit people. Not with that kind of traffic. We’d get two exits down and turn around to go home.
“Yep,” he says. “Ryan drove me.”
“Sure did,” Ryan, the punk rock dude, says. “Drove my bro here and everything.”
“I’m sorry, you’re brothers?” I ask, my eyes widening. Because they look nothing alike. They’re polar opposites.
“Yep, his dad married my mom,” Ryan says, slinging an arm around Jimbob’s shoulders and jostling him slightly. “My parents want us to bond. So here I fucking am.”
Jimbob’s cheeks flush, and I cock my head, wondering what that’s all about.
I don’t know, but I sure as fuck feel like there’s nothing better to do out here but find out. Not that I’m going to be staying. I will be booking a flight home as soon as I can.
I’ll get right on that.
Soonish.
“Mr. Miller,” a voice calls, and Bennet jerks away from us, moving toward the nurse clad in all blue, standing by the double doors. Part of me wonders if I should offer some kind of support, but before I can think about it too much, Bennet disappears with her, and I’m left standing with Jimbob and Ryan.
“So,” I say, waving my hand in front of me. “You must be a really good friend of Bennet’s to drive an hour to see him.”
Jimbob’s cheeks flush even darker, and Ryan smirks.
“Has a crush on him, was all in a tizzy over this news,” Ryan replies, and my eyebrows nearly shoot to my forehead.
“That’s not your business to tell, Ry,” Jimbob says lowly, shuffling on his feet.
My stomach clenches for some reason, and I rub at it again. Damn pancakes.
So this must be Bennet’s type then. Big and beefy with muscles that aren’t sculpted from a gym but from hours and hours of hard labor…something you don’t find in urban California. And I am basically the very definition of urban California.
“Wanna grab something to drink while we wait?” Ryan asks. “I have a thirst inside me that needs to be quenched.”
My lips turn up at that. “Is this how you normally speak?”
“I’m from Seattle. So, fuck yeah, it is.”
He starts walking, and Jimbob and I are left to follow. I mean, I’ve never been to Seattle, but I’m pretty sure they don’t speak like this. But then again, who knows? Maybe a trip is warranted in this situation. Need to do some anthropological fieldwork if that’s the case.
“So, a crush,” I say, peeking up at Jimbob. His ears are still red, and he tugs on his John Deere cap.
“Yup.”
“Didn’t know there were openly gay bros in Kansas.”
“Wouldn’t call myself a gay bro. And it was a high school crush, nothing more…”
I’m not sure I believe him, not with the way he ogled Bennet earlier like he was the water in a very dry desert.
“So, did you and Bennet have a thing in high school?” I ask, suddenly very curious. Don’t know why I even care, but I do. I fucking care.
“Seems that’s none of your business,” Jimbob says, and I narrow my eyes at him because he’s absolutely right. It is none of my business, but I want it to be mine anyways.
We follow Ryan into the hospital cafeteria and we all grab cups of coffee. Ryan takes his black while Jimbob and I mix ours with cream and sugar.
“Honestly, this coffee isn’t half bad,” Ryan says, as he takes a scalding sip. I’m surprised his tongue doesn’t just melt right off with the way he’s gulping at it.
