Chapter 5 #2
My paranoia has me fast-tracking down the sidewalk, head on a swivel. Leave it to me to turn a pleasant morning stroll into a fear-fueled power walk to an enclosed place where I can have my back to a wall and my eyes on the door.
Before I know it, I’m outside of Rainbow Roast, the scent of coffee breaking through the anxiety that’s flooding through my brain. I head inside, the bell on the door tinkling merrily, and a couple of ‘hellos’ are thrown my way as I make my way to the counter.
I don’t recognize the man on the other side. He’s just a bit shorter than me, with dark hair that’s shaved close on the sides and just long enough on top to spike it up. His lips turn up in a welcoming smile that makes his gray eyes practically shine.
“What can I get you?” I return his smile, pushing down the little hint of disappointment that Mattie isn’t here. But I can’t expect him to be here at all hours.
I place my order, giving him an appreciative once-over when he turns to prepare my drink. He’s slim, but the dark jeans hug one hell of a nice ass.
“Seth! What are you doing here?” I turn with a gasp.
Oliver is standing behind me, hands stuffed into the front pockets of his jeans.
The grin on his face falls away when he sees the expression on my face.
I’m sure I look panicked. I feel panicked.
My heart is tripping over itself, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to hyperventilate if I don’t pull myself together.
“Dude, you’re not supposed to jump-scare your friends,” an unfamiliar man says.
I blink at the smooth voice, my gaze focusing on the man next to Oliver.
He has shaggy brown hair that he keeps brushing out of his dark blue eyes and a small gold hoop through the septum of his nose.
A neatly trimmed beard graces his jaw, accentuating his rounded cheeks.
He’s sturdy, taller than Oliver, with broad shoulders and a belly that gives him teddy bear vibes. He gives me a smile that lights up his whole face as he extends a hand. I grip it, looking between him and Oliver, who rolls his eyes.
“This is Orson.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” Orson says happily as he enthusiastically shakes my hand. He’s so massive that his hand completely envelopes mine, and my arm feels like a noodle once he finally lets me go.
“Didn’t think you’d be up and about so early,” Oliver says, wrapping an arm around my shoulder in a side hug.
“Wasn’t expecting it either, but here I am.
” I duck my head, trying not to squirm. Sudden self-consciousness clouds my mind.
Oliver is the type of friend who senses when anything is off, even something as subtle as walking differently.
He’s also blunt enough to start asking questions, and I really don’t want to have to answer them.
The barista brings me my drink, a French vanilla cappuccino, and the three of us make our way to a table by the windows.
I make sure to take slow, measured steps, praying I’m not too obvious.
The morning sun is streaming in, pleasantly heating the tabletop, and I take a much-needed sip of the heavily caffeinated drink.
Oliver glances at his phone before putting it on the table, and I squeeze my cup tighter to keep from reaching out to him. He doesn’t seem to mind my overly affectionate personality, but that might not be the case if he has his friend with him. Guys are weird like that.
“Have you heard anything?” I ask softly before taking another sip.
He shakes his head, his expression pinched. “Not really. Got a hold of my aunt, but that was just a waste of time. Think they considered David dead the moment they kicked him out.”
“What the fuck? Seriously?” I sputter. I can’t believe there are people in this world who would turn their backs on their own kids for such an asinine reason.
Oliver nods his head forlornly and Orson’s blue eyes are sad as he looks over at his friend. “So, is anyone going to look for him?”
“Yeah. His brother. He called me after I spoke to his parents. He’s pissed that they won’t do anything.”
Orson snorts at that. “Think pissed is an understatement. I have the feeling he’s going to follow in his brother’s footsteps and just come live with you.”
The pained expression on Oliver’s face has me reaching for his hand at the same time as Orson wraps an arm around him and rests his forehead against his shoulder. I eye the two of them. Oliver doesn’t shrug the other man off, in fact, he seems to lean into him.
Now that I think about it, it’s been a while since Oliver has said anything about his fiancé or even talked to her on the phone. Did they break up? Hell, is he bi? I’m so confused right now.
They pull apart when the barista brings their drinks. I don’t even remember them ordering anything when they got here. Orson wraps his huge hands around his cup and takes a deep breath of the steaming brew before taking a small sip.
“So, how do you two know each other?” I finish the last of my coffee and glare accusingly at the empty cup. The cup isn’t small by any means, but clearly, I was chugging away at it.
“Oh, we grew up together,” Orson supplies, taking a big slurp of his coffee. I raise an eyebrow and look over at Oliver.
“It’s true. We were best friends for most of our childhood. I left for college, but that didn’t work out, so I came back.”
“And by that time, I was in the military. They have a special division for non-humans, but by three years, they knew I wasn’t cut out for it.
” He shrugs his huge shoulders, a bashful expression on his face.
“I’m a lover, not a fighter. Cliché, I know, but I just couldn’t do what they wanted me to do. ”
I nod along, trying to wrap my head around the fact that he’s not human. Do I ask what he is? Am I supposed to know? Is it even polite to ask, or is it like asking women their age?
Oliver must notice the fact that I’m blue screening because he chuckles. “Orson is a bear shifter.”
“My parents weren’t all that creative when they named me.” I give him a confused look. “Orson means bear cub.”
As Orson smiles at me, I take a proper look at him for the first time.
In my mind, I can imagine him shifting into a giant bear right before my eyes, his large hands turning into paws, his thick frame covered in fur.
But the idea doesn’t scare me. I don’t feel threatened by him.
Au contraire, his kind eyes and bright smile make me feel safe.
I rarely feel that way around people I’ve just met, let alone non-humans.
“So, you got kicked out of the military because you weren’t scary enough,” Oliver comments with a smirk.
“Not my fault I’m big and fluffy.” Orson leans back and pats his stomach as he lets out a chuckle.
I shake my head with a laugh. “I mean bears are also known as death floofs.”
Orson cackles at that, gripping Oliver’s shoulder in the midst of a laughing fit. Oliver shakes his head and if he rolls his eyes any harder, they might get stuck like that.
“Well, while you two are giggling over being floofs, I need to go call my brother, and Orson, you can’t be late for your interview.” Oliver gives the shifter a pointed look, and Orson huffs out a sigh.
“I haven’t forgotten,” he grumbles as he grabs his phone and checks the time. “Also, how do you just know it’s getting close to time?”
“I’m just that good,” Oliver replies as he picks up his phone and puts it in his pocket, before he heads to the door.
“Yeah, I bet you are,” Orson mumbles. I do a double take, especially when he looks over at me and blushes. Guess he didn’t expect me to hear him.
“You like him.” It’s blunt, I know. But I don’t see the reason to beat around the bush about it. Hell, I like Oliver. He’s a likable guy. But I don’t think either of us has a chance.
Orson ducks his head. “Yeah. Figured it out in high school. I was super awkward as a teen. Still learning to control my shifting. We went to a mixed high school, one that allowed humans and non-humans, and I’ve always been big and had major self-esteem issues.
He looked out for me. I sort of crushed on him. ”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” His head jerks up at my confession, and I shrug one shoulder. “I kinda have a crush on him, too. For similar reasons.”
Orson lets out a shaky breath. “I can’t believe I finally told someone. Feels good to let it out. Well, I’d better get to that interview. Don’t want Oliver to kick my ass for missing it.” Pushing himself to his feet, he gives me a sad smile before heading for the door.
“Good luck!” I call after him. He turns to give me a wave and then he’s gone. I don’t know what I was wishing him luck on. I mean, obviously the interview, but also, maybe, with Oliver, too.
With a sigh, I get to my feet. Disposing of the small amount of trash on the table, I wave to the barista who served us and head out. It’s warmer now, the sun heating the street and buildings around me enough that I might actually start to sweat.
It’s a beautiful day out, hardly any clouds in the sky and a gentle breeze keeping it from being too hot. I take a deep breath, tilting my face up to the morning sun.
I don’t even see the person as a hand wraps around my upper arm and yanks me into a narrow alley.