His honesty catches me off guard. And then his words slam into me. Everybody should have someone that cares. Someone that doesn’t give up on them. Someone to always care what they’re doing. Right at this moment, I make it my goal to be that someone for Park.
“I’ll go get you some clothes. You go take a shower. There’s Ibuprofen in the medicine cabinet. And when you’re done, I’m going to check your head, and make you breakfast.”
His eyes widen in surprise. “You’ve done enough. I should just go.”
I head to the door without looking back. “Go take a shower, Park. You still smell like alcohol. I think it’s coming out of your pores. And there should be an extra toothbrush in the top drawer. Please use it.”
I hear him chuckle as I shut the door behind me.
***
It’s been almost a week since I had breakfast with Park. In that time, he’s made a point of trying to repay me. On Sunday, he was on the fire escape smoking a cigarette when I came home from grocery shopping. He scaled the railing and bounced down the steps in his hurry to help me carry the bags up to my apartment. On Monday, he helped me clean his bathroom, singing to me the entire time. It was fun until we got into a Comet fight and he used the back of his hand to wipe the green powder from my nose. He paused, his eyes meeting mine, his Adam’s apple bulging in his throat as he swallowed tightly. I started breathing heavily and he closed his eyes, backing away from me. The sexual tension wound around us, growing hot and unmanageable.
On Wednesday, I found him in the laundry room. He kept me company while our clothes washed and we talked about music. It should have been a safe subject, but he got really excited and passionate about it, which just made me that much more attracted to him. Especially when I realized he has great taste. I got uncomfortable due to my rising desire and made an excuse to get away, even though my clothes were still drying. I don’t think he bought my generic explanation, but he made no mention of it. Instead, he insisted on bringing my basket up to my apartment for me—with everything folded.
Now it’s Friday. I’m working the midnight shift. And guess who comes sauntering in with all his gloriousness. Yep. Park plops down, alone, in the back booth that I’ve come to think of as his, and pulls out a book. He’s fresh from a show and his hair glistens with the sweat he worked up performing for all the screaming college girls.
I sigh. I can’t believe he has a book. I didn’t take him as a reader and now my attraction hitches up about ten more notches. Pretty soon it’s going to be too high to ignore. I don’t know if that scares me or excites me.
“Hi,” I say as I stop next to his booth.
He sets the book aside and turns his heart fluttering grin on me. “Hey, Lucy.”
“What are you doing here all by yourself?”
He trails a finger over his bottom lip as his gaze scales over me, and my breath catches. Does he do that on purpose? Does he even realize he does it? It’s like he swallows me whole every time he looks at me.
“I thought I’d come check out those buffalo strips since I never got to.”
I arch a brow. “I don’t know,” I tease. “You couldn’t seem to handle the spiciness. Are you sure you’re ready for the heat?”
He drops his hand and now his tongue moves over his lip. He meets my gaze. “I’m ready,” he says, his voice gravelly.
I clear my throat. “Milk?”
Smirking smugly, he leans back and picks up his book. He opens it and starts reading. “It does have its health benefits,” he murmurs.
“Yes it does,” I agree, eyeing his sculpted arms. He glances up at me, turning his head to see me better. He arches his brows.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing. I’ll put your order in,” I add before backing away from his table.
Park sits there all night until my shift is over. After I’m safely in my car, he hops into his own and leaves. He doesn’t go home, however, because when I get there, his parking spot is empty. But when I cook Saturday Breakfast, he shows for the first time in a month.
I feel the shift happening. I just don’t know where it’s taking us.
10
Park
Guy shows up as I’m leaving for the diner for Lucy’s midnight shift. He brushes his blonde bangs out of his eyes and hops in my car without question as to where we’re going or why. This is the kind of friendship we have. He’s been my best friend for most of my life. First day of kindergarten, I was scared shitless. I used to be a mama’s boy, and I wanted no part of being somewhere she wasn’t. I watched my dad come and go too many times. I didn’t trust that my mom would still be there when I got home. Guy could sense my fear and instead of using it against me, he looked out for me. Every day for the first two weeks of school, he was glued to my side, acting as a shield. And when I finally adjusted, he and I became inseparable because I wanted him there, not just because I needed him there.
In high school, shit turned around. He came out and a lot of people didn’t accept he was openly gay. They gave him shit on a daily basis and I tried to be his shield. But I’m just not as good as he is. I slacked on my job a lot and he never complained about me being a horrible friend. He never complains about anything. He’s that kind of person. Calm. Easy going. The super glue of our group.
In all the years I’ve known him, we’ve been in three fights. One over which Transformer was better, Optimus Prime or Bumble Bee. We were kids and that was serious shit. But obviously I was right—Prime all the way.
Our second fight was over a girl. Something I didn’t think would ever happen, not just because he’s gay, but because we’re that close. I never thought a girl could come between us. That time he was right. I was so wrong and deserved his wrath. Hope—she was my…well, I’ll never know what she was to me, but she was the one and only girl I have ever loved. And she was—is—his best friend. I never minded sharing him with her or her with him. Together, we were the perfect trio. Until we weren’t.
Shit was fucked up in high school. We had the normal teenage bullshit. But then we had the band. Guy, Hope, Chase, and I. We formed the band and it helped fill some hole for each of us. But it also added a lot of stress and responsibility that we weren’t ready for. And Hope… God, Hope had issues. Has. She has issues. I was a coward. I didn’t know how to help her, and I felt special that I knew something nobody else knew about her. It was our secret. So I did nothing to help her, and that was where I fucked up. One of my many fuck-ups along the way.
I thought Guy would never forgive me when he found out I kept her secret. And in a way, he never really has. Not fully, anyway. But I haven’t forgiven him, either, for keeping her other secret. He’s my best friend too, but he didn’t tell me about Mason. Sometimes I wonder whose betrayal hurt me more.
This brings me to our third fight. Five weeks ago, I came back to the apartment we were subletting for the summer. Classes had ended and I did so damn good on all my exams I had decided to celebrate. As usual, I went too far. I was shitfaced beyond belief when I came home. I wanted to call Hope. I missed her. I fucking missed her so bad and I wanted to tell her what she did to my life when she walked away. How I used to light up when I thought of her, but now all I associate her with is loss and failure. My loss. My failure. I wanted her to understand that I didn’t love her anymore. Not like I did. But I missed her and what we used to have.
I just wanted to feel again.
Guy doesn’t do confrontation, and he doesn’t get physical, but that night, he had my drunk ass flat on the ground. After he pried my phone out of my hand, he laid into me. Everything that he’d held in all the years we’d been friends, he let it all out.
I listened to him tell me what a shit friend I was. What a shit boyfriend I’d been to Hope. What a loser I was. And then he really went for my jugular. He brought up the biggest fuck up of my life. He looked me in the eyes and reminded me of the night I almost killed him.
He left pissed off and I started packing my shit. The next day, I mov
ed in with Jessie.
I blink, coming out of my bad memories. When I pull into the diner’s lot, Guy looks over at me and smirks.
“Shut the fuck up,” I grind out.
“I didn’t say a word.”
“You were going to.”
He opens the door and starts for the restaurant. I sigh and follow. If he starts his match making bullshit, I’m out. I’m not even playing around. The dude lives for this. That and my embarrassment.
He knows something that most people don’t.
I was a virgin until I came to college.
That girl, Hope, she was my world. My everything. She wasn’t ready and I never pushed her. I was content to wait until she was ready. She never was. Not with me. She met someone that made her—makes her—happier than I ever could. Someone that took—takes care of her better than I did.
I thought if I waited, she would come back. She didn’t. It wasn’t until almost a year later when she went off to college in another state—with the guy she left me for—and I came here, that I finally realized it was definitely over. I went a little nuts. I started drinking worse than I ever did in high school and I started fucking my way through the female population.
The past year is a blur of physical release and emotional torture. I’ve lost myself somewhere along the way, little pieces of who I used to be are spread like breadcrumbs, but I don’t think I’ll ever find my way back.
Guy attempted to set me up several times, but after Hope, I haven’t ever wanted a serious relationship again. That’s laughable, because we were never serious. She didn’t want to label us, which meant I thought she was mine, but she didn’t want to be tied to me. Now the word relationship makes me physically ill. I gave my heart to a girl just for her to rip it out of my chest and stomp it into the dirt. I am never doing that again. Fool me once—fuck you. Fool me twice—I’m a fucking idiot who deserves what I get.
“Guy!” Lucy calls excitedly. She rushes over to give him a hug. I don’t receive the same greeting. She tucks a loose strand of hair behind the ear with all the piercings and smiles. “Hey Park.”
I nod and walk past her to my booth. I forgot my book in the car because Guy threw me off. I guess it’d be rude to sit here with him and read anyway.
I wait for him to join me, but he has his head bent toward Lucy in private conversation. She’s nodding and he’s smiling. I don’t know why it irritates me. I shake it off and start looking at the card advertising some new pie. It doesn’t even look very good, but I read it four times before Guy slides in across from me.
“She is so sweet,” he states matter-of-factly. “She said she’d bring you a milk.”
I look at the window, but all I see is my reflection. It’s the last thing I want to look at right now—then I see her gliding toward me. I turn to face her just as she sets my glass in front of me. “I wanted Coke,” I say curtly.
“Oh,” she says, her brows drawing together. “Okay. Sorry. I’ll take this back.” She gives Guy his ice tea and he shrugs. That fucking pisses me off.
“Don’t do that,” I spit.
He narrows his eyes at me. “What?”
“Don’t apologize for me.”
“I didn’t.”
“You shrugged. You might as well have said: ‘Sorry, Lucy, I don’t have a clue why he’s such a dick.’”
He sighs. “Well, someone has to do it.” And then, as if just realizing what I said, he adds, “Why are you such a dick?”
I grin tightly. “Guess I’m just special that way.”
“If you’re mad at me that’s fine, `cause I’m not real happy with you, either, but don’t take it out on Lulu. She doesn’t deserve your shit.”
My head gets light as all the blood rushes there. “She doesn’t deserve my shit, or I don’t deserve her? Come on, Guy, say what you really mean.”
He takes a drink and sets his glass down so calmly that I want to reach out and tip it over. “You deserve a good woman,” he says quietly. “Because I know you’re a good person. You’ve just buried him so deep I’m having a hard time finding him anymore. You need to get yourself straightened out before you get involved with any girl. If you don’t, you’ll wind up taking her down with you. Do you want to do that to Lucy?”
This is usually where I walk away, but I’m tired. I’m just so fucking tired. “This is it,” I say firmly. I jab the table with my index finger. “I’ve changed. This is who I am now.”
He nods, taking another drink. “You’ve changed, but this isn’t who you are.”
Lucy stops hesitantly next to me and places my Coke down. She puts her hand on my shoulder and squeezes. I flinch at the intimate way she touches me. Like she sees I’m pissed off and wants to calm me down. It’s fucked up that it works. “Do you need me to come back?”
“I think I’m going to take off,” Guy says, his eyes on me. He throws a five on the table and stands. “Lu, take care of my boy.”
She looks at him and nods. “I’m trying,” she says softly.
I flinch again.
Guy leaves and Lulu takes his seat. She reaches for my hand and I draw it back. “Are you all right?” she asks.
I stare at her, trying to understand what her motive is. Why does she continue to be nice to me? “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I snap.
“I don’t know,” she says quietly. “You look upset.”
Upset. Not pissed off. She wasn’t calming me, she was offering me support. I sit back because I can’t decide if I want to yell at her to go away or pull her into my lap. “Why do you care?”
Now she flinches. “I thought we were friends.” She searches my face for something. “It’s like we take a step forward and then you shove me five steps back. Why do you do that? Why do you push me away?”
“I don’t know,” I say truthfully. Maybe because I want you close and it fucks with my head.
Her lips part and her gaze flicks over me again. “Well stop it.” She stands and picks up Guy’s abandoned glass. “I’m stubborn as hell, Park. You might as well make it easy on yourself and just give in to me.”
11
Lucy
Every time Park steps outside to smoke a cigarette, I think he’s going to leave and not come back. I have to keep answering questions from my co-workers about his newly constant presence. Who is he? Does he have a girlfriend? Am I his girlfriend?
Kimmie slides up next to me as I’m pretending to wipe down the counter. Really I’m watching Park watch the stars while he smokes.
“Whatchya doing?” she asks with a huge grin. She knows exactly what I’m doing.
“Math,” I deadpan.
She bobs her red ponytail. “Adding up all the things you’d like to do to him?”
I huff a breathy laugh. “More like subtracting clothing.”
“Oh, I hear ya. He’s going on my list.” She wiggles her eyebrows and smiles wickedly.
I turn my whole body toward her, gripping the counter behind me. “You’re list?”
She nods, picking up the washcloth so she can actually wipe the counters down. “Greg and I have a list of people that we can sleep with and it’s not cheating.”
I press my lips together to keep from laughing because knowing Kimmie, she’s dead serious. “I thought those lists were supposed to be famous people?”
“Yeah, but I don’t know any famous people.”
“I think that’s the point. Isn’t it cheating if you have sex with somebody that isn’t your boyfriend?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “Not if they’re on the list.”
“But couldn’t you just sleep with someone and then add them to the list?”
She cocks her head to the side. “I hadn’t thought of that. I’ll have to keep that in mind.” She winks and saunters over to one of her tables.
Three guys come staggering in and I seat them in Kimmie’s section. Mine is pretty full and I know she needs the money. She gives me a gra
teful smile as I walk back to my station.
Park plops down in his seat and I bring him another Coke. He grins at me. “Thanks.”
“We don’t want a ginger,” one of the drunks bark. “Where’s that other waitress?” I look over my shoulder at the guys I just sat. The one with the goatee waves his hand at me. “There she is. Come here.”
I start over and Park grabs my arm. I look down at his hand wrapped around my wrist and then at his face. He’s staring at the guys. “If you need me, I’m right here.”
I feel my eyes widen. Park can make out with a girl he just met in a bar full of people, groping her for all to see. He can drink his weight in liquor and pass out in front of my door. He can leer at me and make his sexual innuendoes. None of it fazes me. But this—Park offering to have my back…this shocks me.
“Thanks,” I say quietly. He drops his hand and I go on over to their table. “Hey guys. Is there a problem?”
“Not now.” They break out in laughter.
“You can have them,” Kimmie tells me. “They’re drunk as hell.” She pats my shoulder and leaves me to deal with these idiots by myself.
I pull out my pad and pen and cock my hip against the table. “All right, boys. Listen up. I know you’ve been having some fun tonight—”
“Hell yeah,” goatee slurs. His eyes are red and glossy as he looks me up and down.
“And you can keep having fun as long as you’re respectful. If you’re nice to me, I’ll be nice to you.”
He licks his lips suggestively. “Baby I’ll be so nice to you.”
I raise a brow and frown at him. “See, that right there. You can’t do that or I’ll have to ask you to leave. But if you can behave yourselves, we’ll get along fine.” I glance around and the others nod. Goatee just grins stupidly.
“What can I get you to drink?”
The less wasted ones order and when I turn to goatee, he leans toward me, his chiseled arms resting on the table top. “Pretty girl, I’d drink your bath water,” he says. His finger slides toward me slowly and he reaches out, skimming it down my thigh. Then he hooks it under the hem of my shorts. I try to back up, but he slips his other fingers under, tightening his grip. “But the only thing that’s going to quench my thirst is a sip of your sweet, wet—”