Chapter 2
DEX
Dex reached his building and paused at the entrance, unable to go inside. He hadn’t been looking forward to leaving work, then he’d found one of his mugs shattered on the sidewalk, and his low mood had gone subterranean.
The red mug hadn’t been on the shelf that morning, meaning someone must have bought it on Dex’s day off yesterday. How had it ended up smashed in the doorway? Had the person brought it back? Seeing something he’d made broken and discarded was the last thing Dex needed.
He turned away from his building, bypassing the bakery on the ground floor, and continued down the street. His condo was not the place to be when he was down.
Pulling out his phone, Dex considered his options as he walked. His best friend, Ollie, was still at work. Fuck, all of his friends were. Starting and finishing early suited Dex, but not many jobs began at six a.m.
Dex turned down the street that ran along the river. His friend, Violet, worked at a tiny hole-in-the-wall bar close by and should be starting her regular shift about now.
When he arrived, a few people sat at the tables outside Dorthy’s, drinking and vaping. Dex pushed the door open and searched the space as he entered. An older man was reading at a table by the window, and a couple who seemed like tourists sat at the bar.
Violet was nowhere to be seen.
Heart sinking, Dex headed toward the bartender. He was new, and Dex couldn’t recall the guy’s name. “Hey, is Violet working today?”
“Nah.” He gave an apologetic smile. “We swapped shifts. Can I get you anything?”
Dex ordered a beer because it seemed rude not to. He dropped a tip in the jar and took the pint to a stool at the opposite end of the bar.
Well, this was a bust. Now he was day drinking alone.
Dex pulled out his phone and opened his chat with Violet.
Dex:
You’re not working this afternoon?
Violet:
No. I’m out of town for Luna’s cousin’s wedding. We’ll be back tomorrow night.
Dex:
That’s right. Have fun!
He’d forgotten the wedding was coming up. Luna was Violet’s girlfriend. They’d been together since all three of them graduated from college. Violet had studied art with Dex, and he’d met her in a pottery class in their first year.
One of Violet’s steel sculptures was mounted on the wall behind him, her work as bold as she was. Dex loved it, even if he personally hated using metal as a medium. Welding was not his thing. But Violet kicked ass at it.
Dex sipped his beer and opened his email app, reading through his messages. His realtor had sent one a few hours ago outlining the open home she’d organized for this weekend. Dex hit reply and stared blankly at the new message field.
Knowing his first open home was around the corner released some of the tension from his shoulders and immediately filled him with guilt. What would his parents think of him selling the home they’d loved so much?
He remembered painting the living room with his parents in high school. His dad had stepped in a paint tray and ruined his shoes, and his mom hadn’t stopped laughing.
Dex’s chest tightened, and he rubbed his sternum. That weekend had been so fun, but these days, seeing the soft blue accent wall left him cold and empty.
He had a long sip of beer and replied to the realtor. Getting out of the damn condo was well overdue. It was a time capsule that he couldn’t bring himself to change, and it was stifling him. He had to escape. It was hard to believe he’d found living there soothing a few years ago.
With the email sent, Dex placed his phone face down on the bar. That was his life admin done. Maybe he should head over to his pottery studio after he finished his drink.
The stool next to Dex scraped along the floor, and he turned, finding a tall man beside him.
“Mind if I join you?”
Dex blinked.
Had this guy walked off a fall photoshoot or something?
He wore a black coat that no one in their right mind would wear during summer, and it looked expensive as hell.
His hair was perfectly sculpted, effortless waves framing his chiseled face, and he stood as if he were posing, but in a way that seemed natural, like he was so used to displaying himself in the best light that he didn’t need to think about it.
Dex’s body flashed hot, and he cleared his throat. “I don’t mind.”
The man set his beer on the bar and unbuttoned his coat, revealing dark slacks and a dress shirt undone at the collar. Even as he sat, their height difference was apparent.
Dex’s face heated, and he sipped his drink. Hooking up hadn’t been on his radar for the afternoon, but damn, it was now.
“I’m Luc.” He extended a pale, long-fingered hand with blunt wine-red painted nails.
Dex swallowed, his throat parched despite the recent sip of beer. “Dex.” He shook Luc’s hand, his palm warm and grip firm, but not in an obnoxious way.
Luc’s thin red lips turned upward. He had to be wearing a lip stain to get that kind of color. “Dex. Is that short for anything?”
“Dexter. It was my grandfather’s name.”
Luc nodded. “Dex suits you better.”
He snorted. “I know.”
Luc held eye contact until Dex had to look away. Luc drummed his fingers on the side of his glass. “I’ve never been here before. It’s very appealing.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Dex could tell Luc was scanning the room. The space was unmistakably queer, especially when you got a closer look at the pictures on the walls, or read any of the messages scrawled on the bar top.
“Appealing is one way to put it.”
Luc turned to face him. “How would you put it?” He cocked his head slightly as if he were waiting eagerly for an answer.
Dex squirmed. Luc’s brown eyes were intense. His focus wasn’t unwelcome. Just a lot. “I don’t know. I’ve come here so much that it’s more familiar than anything.”
“But you agree on the appeal?”
“Yeah, totally.”
Luc nodded. “I had a good feeling about coming in here.”
This conversation was bizarre. That last statement could almost be a line, but Luc didn’t add a cheesy, and seeing you, I know why, or whatever to bring it home.
“So you wandered in on a whim?” Dex asked.
Luc shrugged. “What brought you here?”
Dex’s insides twisted. There was no way he was admitting his home was so depressing, he couldn’t stand going inside. “I came to visit a friend, but she isn’t working today.”
“Did that make you sad?”
Dex’s eyes widened. Blunt much?
“Sorry.” Luc’s smooth brow creased. “That was rude, wasn’t it?” He sounded like he was genuinely unsure.
“Maybe not rude, just very forward.”
Luc nodded, his brief confusion evaporating. “I meant to be direct, so I’m not misunderstood. If I want people to believe me, I have to speak plainly and tell the truth.”
“Uh-huh.” Dex sipped his beer. He’d totally stereotyped this guy, thinking he’d be smooth and socially adept because he was hot. He had also assumed Luc came over to hit on him, but it didn’t feel like that at all.
“Do you not usually tell the truth?” he couldn’t help asking.
Luc’s mouth tightened around the edges. “Depends on who you ask.”
“I’m asking you.”
Luc smiled, his intense eyes gleaming as his cheeks flushed slightly. “I’m trying to tell the truth more than I used to.”
Weird to basically admit to a stranger that you were a liar, but okay. At least Luc was trying to do better.
“Good for you. Personal growth counts for something.”
“Hmm.” Luc didn’t sound convinced. “In that case, I should admit that when you asked if I came here on a whim, I evaded your question.”
Dex shifted on his stool until he was squarely facing Luc. “Why?”
“Because I didn’t want you asking the reason. It wasn’t a whim.”
Dex leaned forward. “Well, now I have to ask.”
Luc swallowed, his gaze unfaltering. “I saw you and wanted to talk to you, so I followed you inside.”
A shiver wound down Dex’s spine. That should have been borderline creepy. Instead, it was thrilling. “You wanted to talk to me?”
“I did.” Luc looked down, trailing a red nail along the bar. “But I’m out of practice with small talk.” He frowned like this was perplexing, and it was kind of sad.
Dex had the urge to rescue him. “I engage in small talk all day. I’m a barista. It comes with the hospitality territory, so feel free to practice.”
“Really?” Luc’s attention lifted from the bar.
Dex’s insides twisted at the look of hope in Luc’s eyes. “Yeah, no problem. So, what do you do?”
Luc’s face fell. “I don’t have a job.”
“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to hit a sore subject.” Dex couldn’t blame himself. Looking at Luc, he seemed well-off rather than struggling. It wasn’t as if Dex could afford clothes like that.
“No need to apologize. I don’t need a job, but work is what people talk about, isn’t it?”
Why did Luc seem to be referring to people as a foreign concept? He must not get out much.
“Someone’s profession is a key small talk component. But we could move on to the weather, or our star signs if you want to get interesting.”
“I don’t have anything to say about the weather or star signs.”
Dex laughed, prompting a smile from Luc. “I’m starting to see the issue. How about you tell me what you’re doing in town? Do you live in the city?”
Luc hesitated. “No. I followed my brothers here, but they’d rather I didn’t stay.”
Damn, that was an honest answer. Luc appeared to be taking his not-lying resolution a little too seriously. But that wasn’t bad. Social awkwardness didn’t put Dex off. Not forcing yourself to act like everyone else was an attractive quality.
“That sounds like a story.” Dex smiled encouragingly. “Want to talk about it?”