Chapter 1-2
538 Words
Scotty kept one eye fixed on the plastic menu the waitress had handed him, but his other he used to focus on Preston. Man, the guy was hotter than he’d been six years ago. Was that even possible? Oh yeah, he was hungry all right. For the straight man sitting across from him in the booth.
Dark curly hair, brown soulful eyes. Full, sensuous mouth. Perfect chiseled jaw. Oh f**k. He was getting hard.
Scotty cleared his throat, shifted on the bench. “What are you going to have?”
“Hmm. Pancakes, I suppose.” Preston set his menu down and reached for his coffee. “You?”
“I’m pretty hungry. I’m going to have eggs, bacon, sausage, potatoes, and toast.”
“I’m not feeding you all week. Just breakfast.”
Scotty grinned. He loved the way the corners of Preston’s mouth quirked up. “I’m still growing.”
“You’re twenty-five. You aren’t still growing. Not to mention that stuff is terrible for you.”
“Whatever. Here comes the waitress.” Scotty rattled off his order, and then Preston gave his. She hurried away.
“What are you really doing at Trask and Reynolds, Scott?”
Scotty dipped his tea bag in the lukewarm water the waitress had brought him. “Working, just like you. I needed a job. Dad suggested I work for you guys doing the accounting and investigating. What’s so strange about that?”
“I’ve never known you to be serious about anything.”
Scotty frowned, trying to push aside the annoyance Preston’s words caused. “You knew me when I was nineteen, Pres. I’ve changed since then.”
Preston rolled his eyes. “Sure you have. For the record, my name is Preston, not Pres. If you’ve changed so much, what was that this morning?”
“What was what?”
“The blaring rock music coming from your office. You rattled my damn teeth.”
“I think it does you some good to be rattled occasionally, Pres.” Scotty tossed aside his tea bag and added milk and sugar to the cup. He didn’t want Preston and his brother to treat him like a kid. He decided to change the subject before he got too mad. “How’s your family?”
The waitress interrupted by placing their plates of food on the table in front of them, but not before Scotty noticed Preston stiffen.
Scotty forked a bite of egg. “Well?”
“I’m divorced now.” Preston’s tone was clipped.
“Sorry. Do you get to see the kids?” Scotty knew Preston had a son and daughter. He thought Preston’s son was ten and the daughter six or seven.
Preston shrugged, averting his gaze. “When I can. They’re living up north now. I saw them at the holidays.”
“That really sucks.”
“Yeah.”
They fell silent, each eating their breakfasts. Scotty wanted to ask Preston if he had a girlfriend but didn’t know how to ask without sounding rude. What really sucked, Scotty supposed, was being in love with your brother’s straight best friend. Oh sure, he’d only thought of Pres maybe one hundred times a week in those six years. All those years away should have cured the infatuation. It hadn’t. Not even a tiny bit.
“What about you? Did you bring a boyfriend home with you, Scott?” Preston asked, breaking the heavy silence.
“Nah. I had one about a year ago. We broke up because of jealousy issues.” Scotty decided it was a good time to ask. “You meet anyone new?”
Preston shook his head. “No. I’m enjoying the single life for the moment.”
“Hmm.” Scotty glanced out the window at the street. In a perfect world with both of them single they’d be free to explore the possibility of a relationship. Only the world wasn’t anywhere near perfect. “Why don’t you tell me about Mrs. Windham’s grandson?”
- Writer
