Chapter 2
A moanmore appropriate for the bedroom spills from my lips as I shove another bite of bacon and gouda macaroni and cheese in my mouth. “So good,” I garble around the bite.
Out of the corner of my eye, Skylar shakes her head, then follows it up with a muted snort. “You’re ridiculous, Ollie.”
I swallow the bite, twist in her direction, drop my chin to my shoulder, and smile. “You love my brand of ridiculous.”
Skylar positions a monstrous burger, sweet potato fries, and a milkshake on the table. After she finagles a few things, she holds her phone up high over the meal and snaps a few photos. Sifting through the images and seemingly satisfied, she shifts the food aside.
While she sets up her next shot, I take a long pull of the milkshake. Again, I moan and garner more stares from customers trying to enjoy their lunch.
“Sorry.” I wave to an older couple and the woman rolls her eyes.
Grumps.
After Skylar takes the final photo, she sits in the booth across from me and starts nibbling.
For the longest time, I’ve asked her to take me with her on work photo days. She promised she’d make it happen, but over the last year, something always got in the way. Conflicting work schedules, band practice, plans one of us made with someone else, our friends’ lives being in danger.
But I held on to hope.
Sure, I’ve lived in Stone Bay my whole life. Without a doubt, I’ve probably tried almost every menu item from every restaurant in town. But not once have I gotten to eat a mountain of delicious calories for free. Today, I got to sample two new dishes coming soon to RJ’s Diner and Dive. It’s a win in my book.
“Sky,” I draw out her name after I swallow a bite of burger. “Feels like I never see you anymore. Has Law been cuffing you to the bed?”
A faint dusting of pink colors Skylar’s cheeks and before she says a single word, I already know the answer. Because Lawrence is a kinky bastard.
“Lower your voice, Ollie.” Her eyes dart around the diner to see if anyone is paying us attention. “And maybe.” She tucks her lips between her teeth to fight a smile.
I load up another forkful of macaroni and cheese and bring it to my lips. “That’s what I need.” I narrow my eyes, nod, and shove the bite in my mouth.
Her brows bend inward. “What?”
I wash down the bite with a sip of Cherry Coke. “A kinky father figure.”
Skylar chokes on the food in her mouth and several sets of eyes turn our way. I rise from my seat, move to her side of the table, and smack her back a few times. She shoos me away as her coughing fit dies down.
“Seriously, Ollie?” She takes a long drink of water. “At least wait until I’ve swallowed.”
“That’s what he said.”
Elbows on the table, she drops her head in her hands. “Why do I love you again?”
I hold up a hand and tick off the answers on my fingers. “Because I’m funny, sweet, talented, devilishly handsome, and the best gay friend ever.”
Lifting her head, she drops her hands in her lap. With a subtle tilt of her head, she arches a brow. “I guess so.” She plucks a fry from the plate and slathers it in sauce. “How’re things with Levi?”
It’s no secret my friends are aware of how I feel about my best friend, Levi. On the nights I hang out with Skylar, Kirsten, and Delilah and drink too much or get sucked into their love stories, I spill too much of my heart. Thank goodness what I share is vanilla and common knowledge among our circle.
But the more time that passes with Levi and I as nothing more than friends, the more I dread the possibility of divulging all the things left unsaid.
My friends would never hold my feelings against me or use them as a coercive tool. They would, on the other hand, use what they know to give me a nudge. Push me to talk to Levi and tell him how I feel.
Badly as I’d love him to be more than my best friend, I also don’t want to lose him forever. Opening my mouth and confessing how I feel about him may do exactly that.
So for the past six years—almost seven—I’ve bottled up my deep affection for Levi West.
“Fine.” I slide the milkshake in front of me and take a long pull from the straw. “He’s been working a lot.”
“The new investigation company, right?”
I nod. “Yeah. Runs it with a friend he met during college.”
Skylar’s lips turn down at the corners a moment. “Wish they would’ve been here a year earlier.” Her eyes lose focus as she stares over my shoulder. After a deep inhale, she blinks and meets my gaze once more. “Things might’ve been different for many of us.”
Too true.
Had Tymber been in town even a few months earlier, had the town and police known Levi worked with an investigative team, maybe our town wouldn’t have lost some of its citizens to tragedy. Maybe the culprits behind several heinous acts would’ve been located sooner.
But if I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s best not to question what might have been after the fact. All it does is drive you mad.
“Agreed.” My stomach cramps, so I shove the milkshake away. Leaning back in the booth, I give Skylar a sympathetic smile. “But things might not have turned out the same if all that shit hadn’t gone down.”
Skylar mirrors my position across the booth as her brows scrunch together. “How so?”
How do I say this without sounding like an asshole? I don’t think it’s possible.
Fingers drumming against my thigh, I swallow and do my best to soften my voice. “If you were never abducted and the”—I lean forward and barely whisper the next word—“embezzlers were never caught, do you think you and Law would be where you are now? Blissful, living together, and not constantly looking over your shoulder.”
Confusion wrinkles her forehead. “Of course?—”
“Would Kirsten have decided between Travis and Ben so easily without her stalker thrown in the mix?” My lips twist up as I shrug. “Probably not. Without the additional stress, she would’ve had more time to get to know Ben better. The pissing match for her affection might still be happening had her stalker not made them go into protector mode.”
Skylar scoffs. “So the intensity of someone’s protection level determines who you love?” She crosses her arms over her chest. “I don’t believe that for a second.” Skylar shakes her head for emphasis. “Chemistry speaks volumes.”
At this, I laugh. Not because Skylar is wrong. Chemistry is vital between romantic partners.
The reason I laugh at her comment has everything to do with Delilah and Phoebe.
For years, their chemistry was one-sided. Delilah never came across as miserable regarding her unrequited love for Phoebe Graves. Occasionally bummed? Yes. Consistently hopeful? Absolutely. But never depressed. Somehow, Delilah knew something would happen between them.
“It does,” I agree. “But chemistry also changes in certain situations. When life gets shitty, you look at the world through a different lens. You also see people in a different light.” I reach for the straw wrapper on the table and roll it between my fingers. “If Dee Dee hadn’t been taken, would she and Phoebe still be in relationship limbo?”
“No, they’d be?—”
“You don’t know that for sure.” I shake my head. “Yeah, Dee Dee and Phoebe were headed in that direction. But the possibility of finding her dead in the forest like the others… it flipped a switch in Phoebe’s brain.” I curl my fingers into loose fists, hold my hands up on either side of my face, and pop them open as I make a detonating sound. “Tell me I’m wrong,” I dare her.
“If you’d let me speak.” Her brows shoot up as her lips flatten into a line.
I clamp my lips between my teeth to hide my smile.
“Thank you,” she says after a moment. “And yes, those situations sped up the process of our friends falling in love.” Her attention falls to the table for a beat as she mulls over her next words. When she meets my gaze again, I see the resolution in her thoughts. “I still believe we’d be where we are had those events not happened.” She rocks a little in her seat. “Would it be exactly the same? Of course not. But I firmly believe we’d have the same outcome.”
“Really?”
Skylar narrows her eyes as she studies my face. “Nice try, Ollie.”
I tilt my head. “What?”
With a shake of her head, she mumbles, “Always steering the conversation away.”
From Levi, she means but doesn’t say.
And maybe I am. I don’t see the point in carrying on a conversation that will lead to the same point it always does—my friends giving me that gentle, nonchalant push to tell Levi how I feel.
Bless my friends for wanting me to have the same happiness as them. But it will never happen.
Levi has never seen me as anything more than what we are. Though he hasn’t been in a relationship with anyone, I’m not oblivious to the women he gawks more than in passing. I’ve never seen him check out a guy. Not even a little. If he had, I may not be as hesitant to open up that part of myself to him.
As it stands, things between us are good. Best to keep it that way.
I ignore her comment but do as she says. I steer our chat in another direction.
“Coming to the show tonight?”
Sympathy curves her lips up momentarily. But as quickly as it makes an appearance, it shifts into a bright and excited smile. “Of course. Law and I will be front and center with everyone else.”
“Cool, cool.”
“How many shows are scheduled?”
As I sound them off in my head, I tick them off on my fingers against my thigh. “A dozen or so.”
“All at Dalton’s?”
If we played a dozen shows in our local pub in such a short period of time, the residents would get sick of us. Not that we aren’t constantly adding songs and covers to our roster. But people like variety, and listening to the same band in your favorite hangout would get old fast.
“Most of them. But also a few town festivals. And a couple in Lake Lavender and Smoky Creek.”
“Let me know the dates. I’ll convince Kirsten and Dee Dee we need to be your groupies and follow you town to town.”
I roll my eyes. Opening my mouth, I’m about to tell her how comical that is. But the words die on my tongue as RJ—Ray Jr.—sidles up to the table.
“Skylar.” A wide smile brightens his expression. “How was everything?”
Skylar scoots out of the booth, steps to RJ and wraps him in a hug. “Perfect and incredible, as always.”
His arms tighten around her shoulders briefly before falling away. “Glad to hear.” RJ’s attention drifts in my direction. “And I see you brought an assistant today.”
Rugged laughter shakes his frame, and we join him for a beat.
“Food waste is a disgrace.” I bow my head and then meet his gaze. “Just doing my part, sir.”
Skylar scans the diner. A small crease forms between her brows before she looks to RJ. “Where’s Tré? I didn’t see him when I came in. Usually, he says hi.”
It takes me a moment to remember Ray’s son, Ray III, is often referred to as Tré. Rolls off the tongue easier.
“Surprised Pops didn’t tell you already.” When Skylar doesn’t say anything, RJ continues. “My son, the online food celebrity.”
Chuckles echo around us as the three of us snicker.
Not long ago, Ray III reached stardom online. Through his love for food and natural charisma, he gained millions of social media followers. According to a post, it started as something fun. A spoof created as a dare. But after the video went viral with millions of views, likes, and shares, Ray III gave the people what they wanted. More. He posts titillating cooking videos packed with endless visual innuendos.
“The sous-chef position opened up at Calhoun’s Bistro and Chef Beaulieu requested my boy.” RJ glows with pride as he speaks about his only son. “I miss him like hell in my kitchen, but I’m so damn proud of his accomplishments.”
Skylar gathers her phone and purse. Stepping into RJ’s side, she wraps an arm around his shoulders and hugs him again. “As you should be. How’s Tucker?”
I shove a few more fries in my mouth and finish the last of the milkshake as they wrap up their chat. Scooting to the end of the booth, I wait until Skylar signals it’s time to go.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I open my text history with Levi and type out a quick message.
coming to the show tonight?
My focus bounces between my phone and Skylar’s conversation with RJ. When he asks if we want anything boxed up, I lift my gaze and nod. Then I drop my attention back to the screen.
Minutes tick by before his response pops up.
Wouldn’t miss it
The hint of a smile tugs at the corners of my mouth as I stare at the screen. In my periphery, food is shoved into boxes and then a bag.
“Ready?”
I lock my phone, shove it in my pocket, and meet Skylar’s waiting stare. Rising from the seat, I nod. “Yep. Where to next?”
“Your place.”
My lips push out in a pout.
“Unless you want to sit in Poke the Yolk on your day off.”
“Oh.” I shake my head. For whatever reason, I assumed she wouldn’t visit where I work while I tag along. “Yeah, no. I’m good with skipping.” I hook an arm around her shoulders as we cross the parking lot for her car. “Going anywhere after PTY?”
“Back to the office.”
“Damn.”
She unlocks the car and we slip inside.
“When are you going to the bistro or confection place?”
Calhoun’s Bistro and Calhoun’s Confections are the two high-end food establishments in Stone Bay. Works of art, the meals and desserts will make a dent in your bank account, at least for us common folk.
“Wednesday.”
Of course, it’s on a day I work. I grumble under my breath. “Figures.”
Starting the car, she buckles her seat belt and rolls down the windows. “Promise I’ll bring you goodies.”
“Yeah?”
Skylar puts the car in reverse, but doesn’t ease out of the space yet. Instead, she glances my way. “That’s what friends are for.” She backs out, puts the car in drive, and aims for the lot exit. “Besides, wasting that food is definitely a crime.”
Maybe it’s the warmer weather, maybe it’s the influx of tourists—I have no clue—but for whatever reason, Dalton’s is at capacity tonight. Although not everyone is here to listen to us play, the adrenaline spike at seeing the crowd has me bouncing on my seat behind my drums.
My eyes drift to the table near the front of the stage. Smiles light up my friends’ faces as they chat and wait for us to start. One by one, I scan each person at the table. When I reach the end, my heart plummets.
No sign of Levi.
He promised he’d be here.
Why isn’t he here?
God, how I hate my heart sometimes. Stupid, useless organ. Always sets me up for disappointment.
I don’t need Levi here, but I want him here.
When Levi and I are in the same room, this intense and extraordinary thrill pumps through my veins. Nothing compares to the high I experience when Levi is nearby. But in complete opposition, he also grounds me in a way no one else does. For some inexplicable reason, when he watches me play, it gives me focus. It centers me. His presence pushes me to play better.
The jukebox music abruptly cuts off and everyone in Dalton’s cheers.
The buzz of the crowd fuels me, but I need that extra boost of epinephrine. The surge only Levi delivers.
Guitar hanging across her chest, Hailey steps up to the mic. “Holy shit, Stone Bay.” She shields her eyes and surveys the massive crowd. “I have to admit, this is a bit overwhelming.”
Cheers and whistles echo throughout the pub.
“But I’ve never been shy.”
“I love you, Hailey,” someone yells over the crowd.
Hailey rests a hand over her heart. “That’s so sweet. I love you too.” She glances at Trip—who lightly strums the strings of his bass guitar—and jerks a thumb in his direction. “But this guy has my heart.”
A unanimous aww from the crowd fills the place.
She waves them off. “Enough of the sappy stuff.” She plucks a few chords on her guitar. “Who wants some rocking fucking roll?”
The crowd roars at a deafening level and it’s like nothing I’ve experienced. It’s intense, phenomenal and life-altering.
I press the bass drum foot pedal as we prepare to kick off the first song. When Hailey plays a specific set of chords together, it starts a silent countdown between us. Seconds before I lift my sticks to start the song, my breath catches in my lungs.
Weaving through the throng of people, Levi makes his way to our table. The buzz in my chest moments ago amplifies tenfold. And when he glances up at the stage and our eyes lock for one, two, three seconds, time stands still. For a blip in time, the pub, the crowd, my bandmates and friends… it all disappears. For a split second, it’s me and him.
He gives me exactly what I need.
That extra boost.
Him.
On the next breath, I bang my sticks down and start the song. And for the next hour and a half, I casually glance in his direction. Every single time, Levi’s eyes are on me.
Such a simple act, but it’s what keeps me hooked. It’s what gives me hope.
May 3rd
Something about tonight reminded me of years ago. Of the days when L I hung out in his room for hours. Every once in a while, I’d look up from whatever the hell I was doing and notice his eyes on me. There was no longing or frustration or sympathy on his face. Maybe curiosity. Maybe admiration.
But I lived for those moments. Those tiny moments made me believe in the impossible.
We still hang at his place, only now it’s in the pool house. We still do a bunch of the same shit. But it’s been years since he’s looked at me like that. Often and relentless. Like there’s something he’s trying to figure out in his brilliant mind, but he just can’t.
For a while, not having those moments ate at my memories. It sucked away my hope. Until tonight.
I don’t know what the hell made tonight different. I don’t know why he suddenly couldn’t take his eyes off of me. It was addicting as hell. It fed my starved soul. It rejuvenated my hope for more.
L I are like the tide. Up then down. Certain then questionable. Connected then disengaged. There isn’t any one thing we’ve done—together or individually—to make our friendship… fluctuate like this. It just does. And I’ve gotten used to it. I accept it.
But is it so wrong for me to also want more stability? Is it wrong for me to also want more than what we share? I don’t think it is. Selfish? Yes. But not wrong.
L I may never be more than this, more than two friends that enjoy each other’s company. This should be enough. This should be fulfilling.
But the way he looked at me tonight… I’d be a fucking idiot to let go of the possibility we could be more. But how long is too long to hold on to hope?