Chapter 5
Isaac
“Jesus, Todd. Look at him. That should be illegal.”
“The tattoos?” my friend asks, not even opening his eyes.
“The…everything,” I correct, my gaze trained on Trevor at the front of the bar.
He’s sitting on a tall stool, one leg bent and his broad frame impossible to miss.
And yes, the tattoos. They cover almost every inch of his hands and arms, his chest, his throat.
“He tricked me with those damn turtlenecks. I mean, fuck.” I toss a hand Trevor’s way, nearly clipping Todd, who doesn’t notice. “Why even wear a shirt? I want to see.”
“You don’t hate Library Guy,” Todd observes. Correctly.
“No,” I groan. “He’s annoyingly easy to talk to. And look at. And for some reason, he doesn’t seem to hate me, either.”
Much to my chagrin, Todd’s arms come around me tight. “You little burnt marshmallow. I just love you so much. You know that, right?”
“Oh no.”
“Like… You’re so soft and squishy inside. Even though you act all tough and arrr and crispy on the outside. You know what I mean?”
“No, I most certainly do not.”
“You do.” He pats my head a couple times. “It’s okay, bae. Your secret’s safe with me. Ooh, we should call Lumi. I need to tell her I love her, too.”
“Right now?” I get out, Todd’s arm strangling me as he reaches for the phone in my back pocket. “Jesus. Boundaries.”
“Stop squirming.”
“Stop touching my ass!”
Phone acquired, Todd steps back. Only to frown down at the black screen. “How do I find her?”
Sighing, I grab my phone, go into my contacts, and call Lumi.
She picks up quickly. “Little busy.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Todd just—”
“You’re beautiful, Lumi,” Todd shouts in my direction. “Inside and out. And I love you so much.”
“Has he been drinking?” Lumi asks.
“Yep.”
“Library Guy is here,” Todd proceeds to yell, loud enough that Trevor looks our way. I close my eyes tight. “Isaac is drooling again.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
“Hand me over,” Lumi says. “I got this.”
Resigned, I hand my phone to Todd. His eyes water as he nods along to whatever Lumi is saying. I guide him a little ways off the dance floor where we won’t get trampled.
“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” Todd tells Lumi. “I wish I could hug you right now.” He nods some more. “Yeah, okay.”
I accept the phone from Todd’s outstretched hand and bring it to my ear. “Yeah?”
“Sorry. It had to be done,” Lumi says.
“What…”
Todd’s arms come around me so tight I lose my breath.
“Text me in the morning,” Lumi says, her voice already getting quieter. “We’ll grab waffles.”
Todd sniffles in my ear. “Sometimes I don’t know what I did to deserve such great friends.”
I pat his back a couple times as I slip my phone into my pocket, my voice strained from the lack of oxygen. “Much as it pains me to admit, you’re a genuinely good guy, Todd. You deserve good things in return.”
His sniffles intensify.
“I, uh, think we should probably get you home now.”
“Yeah, okay,” he agrees.
“So… You might need to let me go?”
After the longest moment, during which I start to grow concerned for my lungs, Todd pulls back. His eyes are glassy, an effect that somehow makes him even more endearing. I wish I could hate him for it, but I never could.
“Here,” I say, guiding Todd’s arm around my shoulder.
“Need a hand?” Trevor asks, the man having materialized in front of us.
“I already have two,” Todd answers. “Hey, Library Guy.”
“Trevor,” said Library Guy reminds him, his lips twitching.
“Trevor,” Todd amends, looking so earnest I start to fear what’s about to come out of his mouth. “Just so you know. This guy?” He hooks a thumb my way. “He’s burnt.”
I let out a sigh as Todd frowns.
“Wait, no. He’s a little bitty marshmallow. No, that’s not right, either. What I mean to say is he’s soft and small, you get me?”
“Oh my God, please stop talking,” I beg.
Trevor waves us forward, clearing a path toward the door and looking amused all the while.
“I think I lost it,” Todd says quietly.
“Yeah,” I agree. “I think so, too.”
Todd lets me steer him out of the bar without complaint, far more easygoing in his sentimental drunk state than his flighty one. Small mercies.
Trevor steps out onto the sidewalk with us, seemingly unaffected by the cool evening air. He crosses his arms casually, a move I try hard not to follow with my gaze. “Did you guys drive here?”
“No, we took a cab,” I tell him, batting Todd’s hand away when he starts to pet my cheek.
Trevor nods, looking pleased by the simple fact that we’re smart college drunks. Not that I’m drunk. “Cabs run by here frequently. Should only be a minute, but I can call for one if you want?”
“Do you always offer concierge services to the tipsy patrons that leave your bar?”
His smile quirks. “When needed. And it’s not my bar.”
“Mhm. Then I guess we’re not your problem, are we?”
Todd sighs. I think he mumbles, “So crispy,” but it’s too quiet for me to be sure.
Trevor simply watches me, those dark eyes so calm it makes me squirm.
Groaning, I puff out a breath. “Sorry. I just—”
“Nothing to apologize for, Red. I can handle it.”
“My bad attitude?” I ask wryly.
His eyes run down my body so slowly and deliberately I can feel myself flushing in response. Finally, he meets my gaze, his answer a simple, “You.”
I suck in a small breath, the thought of Trevor handling me in any shape or form not something I can linger on right this instant. Not unless I want to pop an ill-timed boner.
Trevor holds up a hand, flagging down an approaching cab. When it stops beside the curb, he opens the back door like a gentleman, waving Todd and me in.
Who the hell is this guy? And why, oh why, do I desperately want to know more about him and his tattoos and his life?
Todd slips into the cab first, looking dead asleep the moment his head touches the window. I sigh, grateful he buckled himself in first.
“Red.”
Trevor’s voice is soft. Far softer than it was in the bar where we both had to speak loudly to be heard. Out here, it’s quiet save the vehicles on the street and the low thump of music barely there beneath my heartbeat.
It takes me a second to meet Trevor’s gaze, knowing what I’ll find. An intensity I haven’t yet figured out.
Because surely I’m not enough to warrant that piercing focus in his dark, dark eyes.
He leans ever so slightly my way, his tattooed hand on the doorframe. Even still, he doesn’t invade my space.
I kind of wish he would.
“Yeah?” I manage.
His gaze dips for only a second before he blinks, his eyes returning to mine. “I like burnt marshmallows.”
Silence reigns for a beat, and then I’m barking a strained laugh. How he managed to decode any of Todd’s ramblings is a miracle. Whether or not he understood the intent of my friend’s words is another matter entirely.
“Noted,” I tell him, stooping to get inside the vehicle.
Trevor waits until I’m seated to offer one final parting blow. “Looking forward to Monday. Isaac.”
And then he’s shutting the door, his massive frame retreating. I give the cab driver our address, my pulse erratic as we pull away from the curb.
I try not to read into the confirmation that Trevor will be returning to the library next week. Nor the way his voice rumbled over my name, slowly and intentionally, as if he wanted me to feel his tongue curling over each and every letter.
Isaac.
No, I don’t hate Library Guy.
And I’m not sure what to do about that.
It’s just past nine in the morning when my phone wakes me from a fitful sleep. I groan, accepting the call from my mom, my voice hoarse when I answer.
“Hello?”
“Isaac,” she says warmly. “Good. You’re alive.”
“Was that in question?”
She makes a small huffing sound I read as amusement. “Well, your father called me this morning, concerned because you didn’t show up last night to a dinner date. And he hasn’t been able to reach you since.”
I try to hide my gag. “Can we not call it that? Apart from the obvious ew, the word date implies consent on both sides. I never agreed to attend that dinner.”
My mom sighs, a patient sound. “He’s worried.”
“He’s not,” I say, sure of it. “He’s just upset I made him look bad in front of his client.”
I cringe the moment I speak it aloud, guilt trickling in.
“Isaac.”
“I know,” I respond immediately. “I should have been more clear that I wouldn’t be going. I just… I’m not some prop for him to pull out whenever it suits him. You know I hate those dinners.”
“I know,” she says calmly.
“And he never listens,” I go on, my frustration evident in my voice. “Whenever I tell him no, he just ignores it, thinking he gets the final say. I’m not a kid anymore. I’m my own person, one he refuses to even acknowledge, let alone accept.”
My mom sighs again, heavier this time. “I won’t tell you when to see your father, Isaac. That’s your choice.”
“But?” I ask, sensing a big fucking but.
“But,” she says slowly, “being an adult also means tackling your problems head-on, not avoiding them.” Before I can express my admittedly flimsy outrage, she goes on.
“Call him back at the very least so he knows you’re alive.
He does love you, you know. And…maybe next time he asks you to join him for a company event, show up as the Isaac you are. Not the one he expects you to be.”
I let her words sink in. “He’ll be pissed if I do that. He’s made it clear I should leave the gay in the closet.”
She hums. “Then maybe, the next time, he’ll think twice about asking his son to perform like a puppet.”
“That’s kind of devious, Mom. I heartily approve.”
She chuckles. “I’d divorce your father a second time if I could. You know I don’t share his views.”
“I know,” I say easily, stretching as I toss my comforter aside. “It’s one of the many reasons I love you more.”
“Isaac.” Her tone is chiding, but there’s a smile in it. “Call your dad, okay? And let me know when you have some free time. You and your friends can come over for lasagna.”
The simple fact that she automatically included Todd and Lumi in our plans has my chest warming. Not that I’d ever admit as much. “Sounds good. Talk to you soon.”
“Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
My mom ends the call, and I drop my phone onto the mattress. The next second, my door flies open. I squawk, quickly checking to make sure I’m fully clothed and breathing a sigh of relief to find I am.
Lumi strides right over to my closet and pulls a shirt free that she tosses onto my face. “Get dressed. It’s time for waffles.”
“Waffles!” comes a voice from down the hall. One that sounds suspiciously like Todd’s.
“You couldn’t text first?” I groan.
Lumi raises an eyebrow pointedly. “I did text, babe. Many, many times. It’s now…” She checks her nonexistent watch, tapping her wrist. “Waffles o’clock. Which means you need to get your cute butt out of bed pronto. I’m starved.”
Todd arrives in the doorway, disheveled but fully dressed. “Yeah, man. Let’s go already.”
“You were fast asleep less than five minutes ago!” I gripe, at least ninety-five percent certain of it. “Just…give me a damn minute.”
Todd moans, hanging off the doorframe like his withering is imminent.
I grumble to myself as I tug off my shirt, replacing it with the one Lumi grabbed.
They both politely avert their eyes as I finish the rest of my clothing exchange.
With deodorant on and my teeth quickly brushed, we head out the door.
The best breakfast around here is at Ethyl’s Diner, a hole-in-the-wall brunch place that caters specifically to broke college kids.
The portions are big and cheap, and the motto is “Get in, get out.” If you’re caught lingering, the staff have no problem giving you a verbal, and sometimes physical, nudge out the door.
The fast pace and novelty of grumpy servers keeps business booming, and, at times, the line runs down the block.
Luckily for us, we manage to find an open table when we arrive. Menus are already out, and we scoop them up quickly as a server bears down on us. Todd makes a panicked noise, his eyes sweeping over the many waffle options.
“Want something?” the server asks, a pad of paper out and an air of impatience on her person.
Todd eeps.
I take pity on him, ordering first. Lumi goes next. Then Todd places his order for waffles. I pray my coffee arrives quickly.
“So,” Lumi says the moment we’re alone, the volume in the diner loud enough to cover individual conversations. “Tell me absolutely everything I missed last night.”
“Library Guy wants to eat Isaac,” Todd declares.
“What?” I say, my voice a little higher than intended.
Lumi appraises me while Todd makes a chomp, chomp, chomp motion with his teeth.
“How would you even know?” I ask, fidgeting with my sleeve. My friend is notoriously oblivious when it comes to flirting. Not that Trevor was flirting.
Except…yes, he kind of was. And maybe I was, too.
Todd shrugs. “It was obvious. That man thought you were a morsel.”
“I’m not a…morsel,” I say indignantly, my cheeks heating.
“He wanted a bite,” Todd goes on, completely ignoring me as he flips his menu end over end.
“Well, then,” Lumi says slyly, her chin resting in her hand. “I suppose the question is… How much longer is our dear Isaac going to run before he lets himself be eaten up?”
“Why are you guys making this sound so creepy?” I whine.
Lumi cackles, leaning back as our server quickly deposits full coffee mugs on the table, leaving just as briskly. I doctor up my cup as Lumi grills Todd about specifics from last night, including details about Trevor.
All the while, I can’t help but run Lumi’s question back through my head.
The idea of being chased isn’t unappealing when I imagine Trevor doing the hunting. Maybe it’s his calm intensity. Maybe it’s the fact that he hasn’t once made me feel unsafe. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Maybe it’s good old-fashioned lust.
Whichever way, I can’t deny…
I might just be willing to let him have a bite.