Chapter Four
Aweek passed, and nothing had changed in Allen’s life. He went to work, then he went home, where he slept and did it all again. The nights blurred together until Friday finally hit, and even then it didn’t feel like anything to celebrate.
Finishing his shift at the call center, Allen shut his computer down and checked his phone.
He pulled his jacket on and headed out. The cold air hit his face, and he walked faster without meaning to, shoulders slightly hunched against it.
The café was busy around this time. It always was, with people stopping in before they headed home, students taking over tables for hours, couples who acted as if they were the only ones in the room.
Allen almost turned toward the bus stop instead, but he didn’t. He didn’t want to go home yet. Not to the silence and the scrolling that made him feel worse. So he went to the café.
The bell above the door chimed when he walked in. The place was packed, with every table full, chairs pulled close together, and people talking over each other.
Allen paused near the entrance and scanned the room. He didn’t see Jamie, Mark, or Connor. Either they were late, or they’d bailed, or he’d mixed up the day. That wouldn’t be surprising. His brain had been mush all week.
He checked his phone and found no messages.
Allen exhaled and stepped farther inside, weaving past a couple standing too close to the counter while they decided what to order.
He moved to the side and waited until a gap opened.
When it did, he ordered a chai latte, then paid and waited.
While the barista made it, he watched the room again.
Still nowhere to sit unless he hovered and waited for someone to leave.
He took the drink when it was handed to him and turned away from the counter, trying not to look as if he didn’t know where to go. That was when the door chimed again, and Allen glanced over without thinking.
A man stepped inside, tall enough that he had to tilt his head slightly to look around. Dark hair, slightly messy, as if he’d run his hand through it too many times, a salt and pepper goatee. A black coat that fit well. Broad shoulders. He looked as if he worked out.
Allen’s eyes flicked to his face. Green eyes, a salt-and-pepper goatee and plump lips. For a second Allen thought he recognized him. Not in a personal way, as in they’d met at some point, but in a way he couldn’t quite place.
The man scanned the room, then frowned slightly when he realized there were no empty tables. He shifted his weight, looked toward the back, then toward the window seats. He took a step forward and stopped when his gaze landed on Allen.
Allen held his drink with both hands and suddenly he was aware he was standing alone, with nowhere to be. The man walked toward him, and Allen didn’t know what to do. “Sorry,” he said when he reached Allen. “Are you waiting for someone, or are you on your own?”
Allen blinked once. Up close, the recognition hit harder.
It wasn’t a full certainty, but it was enough to make his stomach twist. It was him.
Rick Marcus. The one-hit guy with that song that had been everywhere when Allen was in school.
The one that still popped up on past era playlists, or people put on at parties and sang along because it had been that catchy.
Rick nodded toward the room. “It’s packed. I’m not seeing an empty table. If you’re on your own… would you mind if I shared?”
Allen’s first instinct was to say yes. His second was to tell himself not to be an idiot. Sharing a table didn’t mean anything. People did it all the time when a place was busy. Except this wasn’t just anyone. This was Rick Marcus!
He forced his face to remain blank. “I’m… waiting for friends,” he said, then immediately regretted it because it sounded like a lie, even though it wasn’t. “But they’re not here yet.”
Rick’s mouth twitched as if he knew what that meant. Or as if he’d been told the same thing a hundred times by people trying to be polite. “That’s fine,” Rick said. “If you’d rather keep the table, I can—”
“No,” Allen cut in before he could overthink it. “It’s okay.”
Rick studied him for half a second, then he nodded once. “Thanks.”
Allen moved first, because if he didn’t, he’d just stand there. He headed toward a small two-person table near the wall that someone had just cleared. It wasn’t the best spot, but it was a place to sit. He put his drink down, then pulled a chair out and sat down.
Rick sat opposite him, his long legs tucked under the table. He didn’t take his coat off right away. He looked around as if he was still half-expecting someone to notice him, but no one did. Or if they did, they didn’t react.
Rick glanced at Allen’s cup. “Chai.”
Allen almost laughed. “Yeah.”
“Good choice,” Rick said it like he meant it.
Allen stared at him. Up close, Rick looked older than the photos Allen remembered. There were faint lines at the corners of his eyes that showed he smiled. “How do you know it’s a good choice?” Allen asked before he could stop himself.
Rick’s eyes shifted to him. He smiled, and it changed his whole face, making him more attractive. “I don’t. I’m pretending I do.”
Allen felt his cheeks heat up, and he glanced down at the table. “Right.”
Allen didn’t know what he’d expected. Maybe someone who acted important, but Rick didn’t. He pulled his phone out, checked the screen quickly, then placed it face down on the table. “Do your friends usually keep you waiting?”
Allen shrugged as he looked up. “Sometimes.”
“You could be lying to me.”
Allen blinked up at him. “What?”
Rick’s mouth twitched. “You could’ve said yes because you didn’t want to share. You could’ve said friends because it’s an easy excuse.”
Allen stared. “I didn’t say it because—”
“I know,” Rick said softly. “I’m teasing.”
Allen let out a breath and realized he’d tensed up. He forced his shoulders to loosen, then pursed his lips. Rick watched him and then looked away as if he wasn’t trying to make him uncomfortable.
Allen took a sip of his drink, hissing because it was too hot. “Oh.”
Rick’s gaze flicked up. “Hot?”
Allen swallowed. “Yeah.”
“You should’ve waited.”
Allen gave him a look. “Thanks.”
Rick smiled. “You’re welcome.”
Allen didn’t know what to do with himself. He wasn’t used to having someone confident sitting across from him and talking as if it was easy. As if he didn’t have to think about every word.
He glanced down at his phone again to see that there were still no messages. He didn’t want to message first and sound needy, but he also didn’t want to sit there for an hour with Rick while his friends forgot about him.
Allen looked up. “I’m Allen.”
Rick’s eyes met his. “Rick.”
Allen nodded, even though this wasn’t normal for him. Rick didn’t offer his surname, and Allen didn’t ask, not that he needed it. He knew who Rick was, but he didn’t want to say anything, so he stayed quiet.
Rick shifted slightly in his chair. “So, what do you do, Allen?”
“I work in a call center,” Allen said. There wasn’t any point trying to make it sound better than it was. “Customer support.”
Rick nodded. “That’s rough.”
Allen snorted quietly. “Yeah. It can be.”
“You hate it?” Rick asked.
Allen hesitated. “I don’t hate it all the time. It’s just… repetitive. People get angry.” Allen paused, then added, “A lot.”
Rick leaned back a little. “People like being angry.”
Allen shrugged. “Seems like it.”
Rick’s eyes held his for a beat, and something in Allen’s stomach flipped. Allen cleared his throat, suddenly aware that he was staring. “What about you?”
Rick’s mouth tightened slightly, then relaxed again. “Music. Sort of.”
Allen blinked. “Sort of.”
Rick’s gaze flicked toward the window. “I… still do stuff. It’s not the same as it was.”
Allen didn’t know what to say to that, so he went with the truth. “I remember your song.”
Rick looked back at him slowly. He didn’t look surprised. He looked as if he’d been waiting for it to come up. “Yeah?” Rick asked.
“It was everywhere,” Allen said. “When I was in school.”
Rick nodded once. “That was a while ago.”
Allen lifted his shoulders. “It still gets played.” Rick’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Allen wondered if he believed him or not. Allen held his gaze. “It does.”
For a second, Rick’s expression softened, then it was gone. “Thanks,” Rick murmured.
Allen looked down at his drink again because he didn’t know what else to say. The silence stretched, but it wasn’t awkward, exactly. More like both of them were deciding what to say next.
Rick broke it first. “Do you come here often?”
Allen nodded. “Yeah. It’s close to work. I meet friends here sometimes.”
“Three guys?” Rick asked, as if he’d already pictured it.
Allen blinked. “How did you know?”
Rick’s mouth twitched. “You seem like the kind of guy who keeps the same friends.”
Allen didn’t know if that was an insult or a compliment, so he decided to take it as a compliment. “I’ve known them since school.”
Rick nodded. “That’s rare.”
Allen studied Rick’s face again. He didn’t look like someone who had a lot of friends. That thought made Allen’s chest tighten, and he didn’t know why.
Rick’s gaze held his. “What?”
Allen blinked. “Nothing.”
Allen’s phone buzzed finally. He looked down, expecting a message from Jamie, but instead it was Mark. Sorry mate. Laura’s car wouldn’t start. Jamie and Connor went to help. Rain check?
Allen stared at it for a second, then he sighed and typed back. No worries. Hope she’s okay. Catch you soon. He put the phone down and stared at it as if it had betrayed him.
Rick watched him. “They bailed?”
Allen looked up. “Kind of. Car trouble.”
“That happens.”
Allen tried to laugh, but failed. “Yeah.”
Rick wasn’t what Allen expected. He wasn’t loud or arrogant, and he wasn’t trying to impress him. He was just there, talking as if it was normal, and Allen felt oddly calm because of it.