Chapter 5
SETH
Seth didn’t see Riley the next day, but the intense, quiet young man was there bright and early Tuesday morning, fifteen minutes before Seth opened.
Seth got him settled with a tea and a broken Danish (it was possible Seth had put aside one wrecked pastry each morning, just in case), and went about his business. Riley stayed at Coastal Crumbs longer that time—almost an hour—and then left just as abruptly as his other visits.
Wednesday and Thursday were each another no-show, and then on Friday, Riley was at the door by five thirty.
He brought a book that time, which he started doing regularly as the days went by, reading for hours at one of Seth’s little tables.
He had a taste for the classics, it seemed—Frankenstein, Rebecca, plus more than a few titles Seth had needed to look up later—which Seth might have written off as performative if Riley didn’t get so engrossed in them.
Not so engrossed that he still didn’t clock each of Seth’s movements with the precision of a bloodhound, but whenever there was a lull in customers, Seth had started slyly asking him what was going on in his book, and Riley always had a ready answer.
(“She’s just been shown the west wing of the house, and it’s basically a shrine to the old wife.” Or, “They’re plotting to switch the two ladies’ identities and stick one of them in the asylum after the other one dies.”)
Riley’s willingness to let Seth know exactly what was happening in his books changed Seth’s questions from a teasing joke to a new routine of Riley telling him bits of stories while Seth neatened his display cases.
It was silly and entertaining, and Seth was kind of growing to love it.
He wasn’t much of a reader and never had been, not even when he’d been required to read for school assignments, and he’d missed out on a lot of the classics.
He hadn’t realized how batshit some of the plots actually were.
And Riley’s voice, when he used it, was so soothing that it always mellowed Seth out just to hear it.
Riley had his off days too, when he’d come into the bakery and just sit, staring, no book and no conversation to be found.
He usually left quickly those mornings, and though Seth was always sad to see him go, he didn’t really mind the quiet version of his wayward guest either.
There was something about Riley’s unwavering attention that added a little vibrancy to Seth’s day that was missing otherwise.
Some increased awareness of himself and everything around him that was quickly becoming addictive.
It was easy to forget how they’d first met—the oddity of that night in Seth’s driveway.
Seth had acquired a steady stream of customers now, and most of them greeted Riley by name on the days he was there, never seeming offended when he only nodded in reply. He didn’t talk much to anyone other than Seth, even on his good days.
Seth didn’t actually know why he was so fascinated with Riley, or what exactly pulled him to this relative stranger. It wasn’t like Riley was his only new regular, even if he was the only one coming in before opening hours.
Violet and Luke were still showing up multiple times a week, and they were a treasure trove when it came to town gossip. Both had gotten over the shock of one of the town’s recluses sitting in their midst pretty quickly, and only greeted Riley absently the mornings he was there.
There were other regulars too. The older bickering couple came in most every day, and there was a quiet guy somewhere in his late twenties with a rotation of anime-themed shirts who apparently lived on his own out in the woods, as well as a gruff lumberjack type who never smiled but always tipped substantially, even though he only ever took pastries to-go.
So Coastal Crumbs was getting into a rhythm, basically, as was Seth himself, but something about Riley…
Seth kept having to fight the urge to touch him, to push back a lock of hair or give his shoulder a squeeze in passing. It wasn’t completely out of character for him—Seth was a tactile guy—but he’d never had so much trouble around someone who kept his walls up so clearly.
But the way Riley watched him.
The thing was, Seth didn’t exactly think Riley would be opposed to Seth touching him.
He might even welcome it, if that hot and focused gaze of his was any indication.
But that was just as much of a problem. Even if Riley had some sort of crush on him, Seth couldn’t act on it, right?
Besides the fact of Riley being so young, there were too many unknowns.
Like, sometimes Seth caught Riley looking at the toddler Colby with this…
sorrow. Seth couldn’t tell if Riley wanted kids of his own or if seeing a young, carefree kiddo opened up bad memories.
Given the rumors Seth had heard about a traumatic incident in his childhood, it was probably the latter, wasn’t it?
And Seth had been worried, at first, that maybe Riley didn’t have a safe place to be, and that was why he was gravitating toward the bakery. But with the way Riley talked about his home and his moms, the few times he’d mentioned them both, that didn’t seem to be the case.
It was all…odd. Confusing.
But it was ten minutes to closing time now, and Seth still hadn’t seen him. And the bakery was closed tomorrow, so there wouldn’t be another sighting until Tuesday.
And that was fine. Totally normal for two acquaintances who hadn’t so much as exchanged phone numbers. Seth wasn’t disappointed or holding his breath or whatever.
He wasn’t.
Jesus. Maybe Seth needed a night out, if he was this desperate for company.
He could go to the local bar and…well, probably not pick someone up—pickings were slim here—but socialize in a non-business-proprietor way. Get to know the un-pastried crowd a little better.
Seth had gotten a bit of the lay of the land the last few weeks.
He knew that tourists passed through but were usually traveling further up the coast. The town’s two beaches were walkable but not quite swimmable—the currents too rough, the coastline too unforgiving—and people tended to choose more hospitable shores for their weekend stays.
It made the place more isolated in its population than it should be, considering the natural beauty all around them.
Seth didn’t mind it, even if it was different from his home of Seacliff, which had been filled top to toe with tourists in the warmer months, transforming the place from a sleepy winter beach town to a bustling summer getaway spot.
Now, with not a customer in sight, Seth went to lock the door and turn his sign to “Closed.”
And there was Riley, standing on the other side of it, dark and towering and silent as a ghost.
Seth didn’t scream. At worst, he yelped. Just a little.
When his heart had stopped threatening to leap straight out of his chest, Seth opened the door, propping it against his back. “Oh, hello,” he greeted mildly.
Riley stood there, hands in his pockets, like he hadn’t just scared Seth half to death. “Hi, Seth.”
“I’m closing up.”
Riley only nodded.
Seth let out a sigh, like he was egregiously inconvenienced and not pleased as punch to see his friend, then stepped back and gestured into the bakery. “Come on in, then.”
Riley gave him a happy grin, and Seth couldn’t help smiling back at him.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“I ate already. A lot.”
“Ugh, I’m jealous,” Seth groaned, pressing his hands into his belly. “I’m starving.”
Riley directed a pointed look to the leftover pastries—not many at all now, Seth was proud to say—and Seth made a face. “No, no. I need something not made of sugar, butter, and flour. Like, a big bowl of pasta with veggies. Or, um, I don’t know, pea soup.”
“Pea soup,” Riley repeated dryly.
“Yeah.” Seth nodded with enthusiasm, ignoring the obvious skepticism. Now that he’d said it, he was really warming up to the idea. “Doesn’t that sound good? Pea soup and crusty bread with the really good butter.”
Riley stood at Seth’s counter, hands still in his pockets, watching him get back to his closing tasks. “You’re going home to eat, then. To have your lunch.”
“Yeah. Just wiping things down.”
Since Seth hadn’t made the jump to hire anyone yet, and didn’t have any employees to break him for lunch, he tended to eat a second breakfast right before he opened, and then rely on power bars to get him through until closing.
Usually he brought something from home and scarfed it down on the premises as he shut things down, but he hadn’t bothered today.
“Mm.” Riley turned without another word and started stacking Seth’s chairs, as if he’d done it a million times—or seen Seth do it a million times—never mind that he’d never been around during closing hours before.
Seth caught himself staring at Riley’s easy, graceful movements. He turned with a start and began wiping down his pastry case. “And what are you up to, mystery man?”
“Dunno.” Riley met Seth’s gaze from across the bakery as he stacked another chair. “Pea soup sounds good.”
Seth immediately narrowed his eyes. “I thought you just said you were full.”
“I get hungry fast,” Riley told him, his gaze so guileless Seth almost felt guilty questioning him.
Seth wanted to say something about growing boys needing to eat, but even in his head, it sounded too pervy, so he kept it to himself.
Riley’s eyes were still on him. Seth shifted in place. “It’s the kind that comes in a can.” He set a hand on his hip, defensive for no reason. “I bake for a living, and I can’t be bothered cooking most of the time.”
Riley shrugged. “I’m not picky.”
Seth huffed. He set his other hand on his hip and met Riley stare for stare. But Riley’s gaze didn’t falter.
Shameless.
Seth huffed again, if only because he wanted to tell himself he was being steamrolled. “Riley,” he said with exaggerated politeness. “Would you like to come over for lunch?”