9. Ridley
NINE
RIDLEY
The soft but persistent tapping on my door draws me out of a deep sleep. I sit up, scratching my head with only one eye open. Thanks to my blackout curtains, I have no idea what time it is.
I slide out of bed and shuffle over to open my door. Bane is on the other side.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” he says, studying my face. “You okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“It’s almost noon.”
His words hit like a cold bucket of water. “What?”
“I came to check on you to make sure you’re feeling okay. You never sleep in this late.”
“Whoa. Yeah, I’m good. Finally got some good sleep, I guess.”
He smiles. “That’s awesome. Must be in the air.”
“What do you mean?”
“Wren slept well too. He’s only been up about an hour.”
“We watched a movie late. Maybe that helped.”
“Cool.” He slaps my shoulder, and if he’s at all suspicious of anything, he doesn’t show it. “Glad all is well.”
“Thanks, man. I’ll be down after a shower.”
“Take your time.” He’s already walking down the hall.
I retreat inside my room, stunned that I slept so long.
It’s been ages since I’ve gotten more than a few hours of sleep in one shot, but best I can tell, after I said goodnight to Wren, I slept straight through.
Knocking one out is usually helpful for sleep, but when I get to do it with someone as hot as Wren?
That’s better than any sleep aid I can think of.
After a long, hot shower, I feel my energy returning. I throw on some jeans and a t-shirt then decide to go down and grab something to eat. The house is quiet except for the sounds of guns firing on a TV screen and Bane and Jerryn hyping each other up as they play a video game.
I swing by the living room and watch for a second. “Where is everyone?”
Jerryn glances over his shoulders. “Salem and Indy went to the restaurant. I assume that’s where Kit is. Lowen and Oakley went to New Onyx, but they’ll be back before dinner service. Wren’s out on the patio.”
“The veranda, as Lowen likes to call it,” Bane says, chuckling as he obliterates a zombie on screen.
“Cool.”
I walk down the hall and through the dining room to get to the patio. Sure enough, Wren is sitting in a chair, soaking up some sun and scrolling on his phone.
I rap on the French door as I step outside. He looks over at me and smiles.
“Hey.”
He nods. “You slept in too, huh?”
“Bane woke me up. Did you sleep well?”
“Like the dead.” He hands me his phone. “Playing with menu ideas for next week. What do you think?”
I read over his notes, smiling at his clever naming conventions for dishes. He’s got something for everyone, from the light lunch crowd to the drinking crews that close us down every night.
“Looks solid, man.”
“Thanks.” He takes his phone back. “I think I’ll wait until a few weeks into summer to decide if I really need to hire more kitchen staff. I like how busy it is right now.”
“Your call, just remember not to kill yourself. You need downtime too. What about your books and orders and stuff?”
He scrunches his nose. “Yeah, good point. I’m getting it done, but it’s a lot.”
“Right. We’ve got the budget for it, so think about that. It was hard for us too in the beginning. We were all there all the time, but we’re starting to find the right balance. You will too.”
Wren nods, studying my face for a second. I return his gaze, replaying how incredibly hot he looked grinding on my lap last night.
“Whatcha thinking about?”
He blinks and chuckles, like he was in a daze he just snapped out of. “Your dick, if I’m being honest.”
I laugh, sitting in the chair next to him. “I’m a fan of honesty.”
“I figured you’d be pierced. You seem like the kind of guy who would have one.”
“I did once, so you’re actually correct. I took it out though. It kept catching on my underwear and guys told me I tasted like licking a penny.”
Wren snorts a laugh. “Oops.”
“It was a frenum barbell. Looked hot but wasn’t worth the drama.”
“That’s too bad.”
I shrug. “I’m doing fine without it.”
“Yeah, you are,” he says, almost under his breath.
We’re quiet for a few seconds until it hits me that he’s not at Moby’s. “What are you still doing at home?”
He chuckles. “Finally noticed, huh? I texted Carlos this morning and asked him to open since lunch on Thursdays is usually pretty slow. It’s a test run to see how he does.”
“Wicked smart.”
“I’m trying. I’m actually proud of myself for letting go of a little control. He hasn’t called or texted yet, and neither has Indy, so I’m assuming all is well.”
“Nice. Well done.”
“Thanks.” He smiles shyly. “Figured I’d get a little more sun then head in around one.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“Cool.”
We settle into peaceful silence, soaking in the soft afternoon sun gracing our backyard. I slept well, things are comfortable with Wren, and all is fine. I feel good. Really good. I could get used to this.
What the actual fuck?
Stepping into Moby’s feels like getting slapped with a wave you didn’t see coming. It’s balls to the walls busy. Every table is full and Salem and Indy are running around trying to drop off food.
“Shit,” Wren mutters, hightailing it to the kitchen.
I feel so guilty now. We were just having a chill morning, not knowing the chaos the guys were dealing with. I hurry over to Indy, who’s typing in an order on the computer.
“Where do you need me to jump in?”
He glances up, but a huge smile spreads on his face. “Just take anything new. We’ve got it under control for now. Kit’s been mostly running food, and the kitchen is keeping up.”
“Why didn’t you call any of us?”
“Because it’s fine. It’s exciting.” He claps my shoulder. “And if this is an indication of dinner service, second shift is gonna need their energy.”
“Good point.”
“Lowen texted and he’s on his way back. Oakley will be in around dinner service if we need any help. Stewart usually helps at the host stand for a few hours too. We’re fine.” Indy smacks my ass. “I’d checked if Florian could use some help.”
“Sounds good.”
I swing behind the bar and jump in, filling water glasses and helping make an order of mocktails for some college gals sitting on the patio. The next time I look up, the sunlight is fading, and the lull before the dinner rush is setting in.
“Holy shit,” Salem huffs, leaning on the bar. “That was intense.”
“Seriously.” I shake my head. “Totally unexpected too.”
“I was thinking about what’s causing it. The social campaign leading up to next week might be getting people to come out early before the crowds,” Salem explains.
“Oh, okay, that makes sense.”
I grab a wet cloth and start wiping tables while Kit sweeps.
We have a few lingering customers on the patio who closed their tab and are starting to wrap up.
They spent a lot with us today, so we’ve been chill about getting them out, but we do need to clean and restock before we get slammed again in two hours.
I take a tray of plates to the kitchen, glancing at Wren as I pass on my way to the dishwasher. He’s leaning over the counter talking to Carlos, but he lifts his head and smiles at me before returning to his task.
Now that I have a minute to think, my mind instantly drifts to imagining Wren choking me with his cock later. I stumble, nearly dropping the dishes as my cock jerks with interest.
Down, boy.
Maybe he’ll be up for more tonight. He sort of said he would be. I set the tray down and glance at my watch. Only ten hours until we close. But who’s counting?