Chapter Three
James
I left the phone store and immediately walked across the parking lot to FedEx. I asked the clerk behind the counter for a blank sheet of paper, and she handed me one out of the printer.
Or, maybe he would…
That thought gave me a shiver. Avery searching me out. Him looking for me, and running to me when we saw each other. Not that I really knew what he looked like. Or him me, for that matter.
I sealed the note in an envelope the nice lady had given me and then paid her for the postage.
I thanked her profusely for her help and walked out of the store.
I had originally intended to just head to the shop and check things out, but my curiosity got the better of me.
I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and opened up the maps.
I searched for June’s Diner and, after a few seconds of spinning, the screen loaded with directions to take me the 3.7 miles to the diner’s location.
Was that… overstepping? Would it be inappropriate for me to show up there?
“He’s probably not even working,” I muttered to myself.
What if he was? What if the love of my life was literally a 17-minute subway ride away?
After a mental back and forth, I loaded the metro directions and began to follow the map towards the subway station two blocks away.
It took longer than my phone had originally estimated for me to make it to June’s.
In some ways, it wasn’t long enough. I put my hands in my pockets and kept my gaze low as I walked towards the entrance.
I hesitated and started to turn around twice before I reminded myself that I was a full-grown man who’d spent time in prison.
Why the fuck was I scared to walk into a diner?
I caught my reflection in the glass—the thick, corded muscles, the cropped black hair, the black outfit. Was I hot? Was I scary?
The doubt sat on my shoulder as I pushed open the door, and then I began to sweat. Oh, fuck—Avery could be anywhere. He could turn the corner, or come from the back at any second. Would I recognize him?
I had imagined him in my head no less than a million times, but I’d never so much as seen a picture of him. I had a general description, and some clues from the way he’d described himself over the years, but, all in all, I had no idea what to even look for.
Here’s what I knew: Avery was 5’8”. He had brown hair and hazel eyes.
He had freckles, because he complained about them once.
Was he thicker, thinner, or average build…
I had no clue. I knew his dick was six inches; he’d told me that once.
But it seemed improper to walk into a diner and ask every guy with brown hair to drop his pants and let me measure his cock for identification purposes.
Checkmate, Cinderella.
The ridiculous thought made me smile as I thought about some gay porno version of Prince Charming trying to find the perfect match via dick measurement instead of glass slipper.
The diner was bigger than it appeared from the outside, with neat rows of tables all throughout the center and old-fashioned leather booths lining the perimeter.
The floor was black and white checkerboard.
A long lunch counter with a dozen stools took up the back wall.
There were three tables seated, and a few people sat at the bar top enjoying sandwiches or a plate of eggs.
There was an empty stool at the end of the counter where it curved into the wall, and I decided to take the seat.
The counter seemed more casual, and from the corner seat, I would be able to keep a good eye on most of the restaurant.
There was a young waitress on the far end of the counter pouring ground coffee beans into an industrial-sized percolator.
She was redheaded with her hair tied up in a messy bun and a pink bandana on the top of her head.
She looked about 25, skinny, and even from all the way across the room, I could tell she was wearing a lot of makeup.
Don’t think that’s him… hope not, anyway.
The thought of having been catfished had entered my mind before.
I knew it was a thing that happened on the internet all the time, but it seemed unlikely that someone would do it to a prison pen pal.
What would there be to lie about? You’re literally writing to a convicted felon.
I guessed it was possible, but I still felt it was pretty unlikely.
I picked the laminated menu up from the counter and began to examine it. Maybe if I was able to distract myself with food, it would stop my gaze from ping-ponging around the room. I didn’t want to look like a nervous psychopath, regardless of whether Avery was present or not.
God, I couldn’t even remember the last time I had ordered food at a restaurant.
It seemed like a ritual in a foreign country, the etiquette lost on a savage like me.
The pictures of food on the shiny menu seemed overwhelming.
I was having a hard time figuring out where to start.
I’d had scrambled eggs and bacon a few hours ago at the house, so maybe I’d have a burger?
I turned the menu over and started reading through the lunch options. I was so distracted by the descriptions of the Mellow Mushroom Melt and Big Bacon n’ Bleu that I didn’t see him walk up. My entire body froze when I heard his soft voice.
“Good morning, would you like to start with a cup of coffee?”
Before I even looked up, I knew. I couldn’t explain it, and, if it ever happened again, I would be just as shocked.
Every cell in my body lit up all at once, and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the love of my life was standing in front of me, all before I even lifted my head.
I recognized him on a fundamental level, and I couldn’t even see his face.
I must have had a goofy grin on my face, because when I laid the menu down and looked up, his face brightened, and he gave a sheepish smile.
I could feel the hairs on my arms standing up as goosebumps covered my skin.
His hair was more auburn than plain brown; a little shaggy around his forehead.
He had strong features: a chiseled chin and high cheekbones.
“Hazel” was a poor word to describe his eyes, which were a dazzling, mottled green with flecks of gold and brown.
His skin was smooth and clean-shaven with a smattering of freckles spread perfectly from the bridge of his nose out across his cheeks like a galaxy.
He was wearing glasses, which he had never mentioned before. Thin, black plastic frames that pulled his face together perfectly.
Fucking adorable. Unbelievably so.
He was nothing like I had pictured him, yet he was perfectly… Avery.
We stood there staring at each other for a few seconds until a bright blush began to spread across his neck and cheeks, and he turned his head to the side.
“Sorry, what was that?” I said dumbly.
He turned back towards me, but he kept his gaze low, avoiding eye contact. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
“That would be great, thank you.”
“Cream and sugar?”
“Black, please.”
Avery nodded and quickly walked away.
Oh, fuck, look at his ass in those tight jeans. The swish of his hips when he walks…
“Oh, shit,” I muttered under my breath. How inappropriate would it be to just hop this little counter, snatch him up, and carry him into a back closet? Would that be coming on too strong?
I took a quick glance around and adjusted myself under the counter before forcing my gaze from Avery’s backside to the menu in front of me.
My head was spinning from the experience of speaking to him, and I was having a hard time focusing on anything except my subconscious filling in all the blank spaces in every fantasy I’d had about the guy in the last three-plus years.
(Not to mention the way he had smiled and turned away bashfully when we had locked eyes.)
He didn’t… there’s no way he recognized me, right? Did he feel the same thing I felt when he first spoke? Did he just know, like I had?
By the time Avery walked back to the end of the counter, I could feel myself starting to sweat. He set the mug down in front of me. “Know what you’d like to eat, or do you still need a few minutes?”
Why was his voice so smooth? Mine was deep and on the raspy side. His voice was light and melodic; fluid with the way he connected his words.
“Um,” I chuckled nervously. “I’m not sure. I’ve never been here before; what would you recommend?”
Avery slouched down to rest his elbows on the counter as he hovered over the other side of the menu. “The chicken salad is really good,” he said, pointing to it on the menu.
I fucking hated chicken salad, but I was about to order it when he spoke again. “Or, you know, the burgers are wonderful. Darrell is here today, and he’s always great on the grill.”
“Sounds great, I’ll take a burger,” I answered too quickly. “Just a plain one, please.”
Avery smiled. “How do you want it cooked?”
The fuck?
“To completion?”
He laughed (a beautiful sound). “Well done it is.”
I got to watch him walk away again and immediately started thinking about how I should introduce myself. I didn’t want to freak him out, and now I was definitely second-guessing just showing up unannounced. I didn’t want him to think I was stalking him.
I pulled my phone out and began to thumb through it so it wouldn’t be so obvious that I was watching Avery’s every move as he took care of tables, refilled drinks, and rang orders into the computer.
He seemed really friendly with his co-worker, the girl wearing all the makeup and the bandana.
They seemed to joke back and forth frequently.
I couldn't hear most of what they were saying at the other end of the bar, but it seemed like they were having fun. He hadn’t really mentioned much about his co-workers in his letters.
God. I wanted to know everything about him.
After about 10 minutes, Avery came back over and set a bottle of ketchup and mustard down along with a napkin and cutlery.
“Food should be coming out any second now. More coffee?”
“Actually, if I could just get a glass of water, that would be great.”
“Sure.”
The rest of my meal was uneventful. Avery stayed away as I ate, tending to the few remaining tables and going back and forth from the kitchen.
He had been right—the burger was delicious, and I ate it fast enough to upset my stomach.
I wasn’t used to that much food in a single sitting just yet, still being accustomed to the meager prison diet.
“How was everything?”
I smiled as Avery picked up my empty plate. “It was great! I probably ate too much.”
“It’s a big burger,” Avery nodded. “I imagine that means you don’t want a slice of pie or anything?”
God, no. I couldn’t eat another bite…
“Do you have apple?”
He gave a thumbs-up and walked away.
I said a silent prayer that I could get through the slice of pie without vomiting all over the place.
I didn’t really want to eat anymore, but I wasn’t ready to leave yet, either.
I hadn’t told Avery who I was, yet. The longer I waited, the more weird it was gonna be when it happened. I was just so fucking nervous.
When Avery brought the pie and my check, he asked, “Are you just visiting?”
“No, I live here. Why?”
He shrugged. “You said you’d never been here before, so I thought maybe you were just in town for business.”
I chuckled. “No, I’m no businessman. I’ve, umm… been gone for several years, and just recently came back. I’m actually a mechanic. I’ve just started at a garage not far from here.”
“Oh, well. In that case, maybe I’ll see you again sometime."
“Yeah, definitely.”
He smiled at me one last time before he turned and walked away. I picked up the check and confirmed what I had known since the moment he had first spoken to me:
Today your server was : AVERY
My total was 11 dollars and some change, so I pulled the $20 bill out of my wallet and laid it on the counter.
I carefully picked up my copy of the receipt and folded it into my wallet.
I took one last look at Avery as he was leaning through the kitchen window picking up a plate the cook had just placed there, and then walked out.
“Maybe I’ll see you again sometime…”
Count on it, sweetheart.