Chapter 82
He finally found a microbrew that sounded interesting, and leaned against the counter to try it.
“Good pick, yes?” Mark said, coming out of the bathroom in the hall. A fat burmese cat followed him out, pouncing on his calf every time he tried to take a step. Rather than trip over her, Mark picked her up and carried her into the kitchen. “Greedy thing.” He dropped the cat in front of her food bowl. “We weren’t properly introduced before. I’m Mark.”
Mark actually was quite attractive, tall and muscular, with long, wavy hair, like something off a lurid romance novel cover. He was also almost a foot taller than Andy, and bulky in a way that made even Jason look a bit underfed. He wore a close-cropped beard and clothes that fit an almost steampunk aesthetic, including a vest and pocket watch on a silver chain. He smiled a lot, and his laugh was wholehearted and booming, the sort of thing that encouraged wanting him to do it again. All in all, like a vast and enthusiastic puppy.
“Andy,” he returned, watching Mark cautiously. He hadn’t quite pegged yet whether Mark was a good-natured asshole, like most of Scooter’s friends, or a charming prick. Scooter seemed to lean toward the latter opinion, but most of the others seemed to think it was the first, so Scooter’s opinion might have been a little biased, for whatever reason. Mark hadn’t been offended by Andy’s brush-off earlier, though, which was a good sign.
Mark settled in, leaned against the counter, not quite far enough to be casual, but not actually touching. “I haven’t seen you around before,” he said, raking his eyes over Andy’s body, noting everything from the battered sneakers to Andy’s hair. “It’s always nice to meet someone new. How did you wind up with Scooter’s crew?”
“Washed up on the beach in front of the Dockside,” Andy said. “They fed me, so I followed them home and now I won’t leave.”
“Ah, the tourist dollars, they command us all.” Mark reached around Andy to snag himself a beer and then returned to his spot. “My father owns a couple of the hotels on Atlantic Avenue, so I understand. The almighty out-of-towners. If you remain with us, I’ll tell you, winter’s easier on the back, but harder on the wallet.”
“Always a trade-off,” Andy agreed. “Looking forward to having a little more free time, though, I’ll admit.”
“Stahl keeps you hopping, I’d imagine,” Mark said. “He’s not the sort to let someone skate on their work just because they’re his lover.” He popped the top off his beer and flicked it into the trashcan. The cat investigated, standing up on her hind legs to paw at the stack of discarded chip bags and bottles. “You should come into town. Valhalla has a good bar. Live music. It’s quite entertaining. I’d love to buy you a drink or two.”
And there it was. Andy hid his sigh in a swig of actually-not-terrible beer. “Well, I appreciate not being handed a moldy line this time,” he said. “Music sounds good, but I’m not interested in the drinks.”
“Your loss,” Mark said cheerfully enough. “You must be quite taken with him. I was under the impression that he was out of the game.”
“I don’t do casual anymore. And Scooter’s game is pretty hard to beat, at least from where I’m sitting.”
Mark rocked back on his heels, studying Andy over the mouth of his beer bottle. “Very well then. Bring him along and come listen to the band. I’ll find a new fish and we’ll have some fun.” He clapped Andy on the arm and wandered off with another one of those flashy smiles. A moment later, Andy caught his voice raising in greeting, a flamboyant, “Letty, you look stunning!”
Andy closed his eyes and let out a slow sigh.
Someone took the spot where Mark had been, leaning against the counter. “Hey, babe,” Scooter said, picking up the can of Coke from the counter. “This one mine?”
Andy leaned into Scooter’s warmth. “Yeah. Sorry, got distracted chatting.”
“No worries,” Scooter said. He put his arm around Andy’s shoulder. “Letty’s here, and we’re about to play Zombie Fluxx, the whole group. Last one left standing wins, but as you knock us out of the game, we’ll start chasing you. Metaphorically speaking. You having fun?”
It set off a strange sort of dissonance, not to be grilled about the whys and the whos and the whats of his absence. This is what trust feels like. Scooter trusted him—to come back, to fend off unwanted advances, to not take advantage of that trust. He had to stop, to catch his breath by the tail, and when he met Scooter’s gaze, he thought,this is what love should feel like
“Yeah,” he said around the sense of wonder. “Yeah, I am.” He leaned in and kissed Scooter quickly. “Thanks for bringing me.”
The way Scooter’s breath hitched and his eyes darkened, even at that casual affection, was gratifying. “Well, it’s kinda trial by fire with these idjits. They can be a little intimidating in force like this, but I knew you could handle it. Come on, we’ll probably end up infected in two rounds and then we can chase Kat all over the place.” Scooter kissed Andy again, tongue flicking out to brush lightly against Andy’s lower lip, and then he tugged Andy out of the kitchen as if he had no idea at all what the effects of that kiss were. 31
Hurricane Franklin hit Cuba as a Category Four and flattened it before turning its eye north and raging up the coast. It bumped into Georgia and slowed down to a two before hitting a warm patch of water off the coast of South Carolina and veering toward the Outer Banks, picking up speed.