Breaking Masks

By Josh Aterovis and Dabeagle

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Chapter 5 - Jake

After my morning coffee, I returned to my room, but Foster was still sound asleep. The sheets had twisted around his body while he slept and he was exposed from the waist up.

It could have been worse, I thought to myself. He's not my type, but at least he has a nice body. Still a shame about that face, though.

I decided I didn't want to hang around the room, mostly because I was tired of reading and I didn't want to play video games in case it woke Foster up and I was forced to converse with him again. I opted to wander around the campus.

The juvenile university-planned activities were not on my agenda, but as soon as I stepped outside, I was set upon by Erin. She was trailed by a jaw-droppingly hot guy.

I barely spared a glance for Erin, except to see she was wearing a pair of skimpy gray jogging shorts and a hot pink tank top. Freckles covered every exposed inch of skin...and probably the skin that wasn't exposed. I didn't waste my imagination envisioning it. I was much too busy picturing the hunk without his clothes.

He was beautiful. About my height, maybe slightly taller, which meant he was still dwarfed by Erin. He was broad shouldered and muscular, but not in a beefy way. He was toned and slender, the broadness of his shoulders narrowing to a small waist and long, shapely legs.

He had the face of a model, all chiseled angles, golden skin, and warm dark eyes that made me want to melt on the spot.

His hair was a masterpiece of carefully disarranged chestnut curls with gorgeous golden highlights that I would stake my reputation as a gay boy were not the product of a salon, but real, natural highlights resulting from hours spent playing soccer in the sun.

I could just picture him, running around with his shirt off, chest glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, patting the other players on their pert little butts...

I shook my head to clear it of my little fantasy and realized Erin had been talking the whole time. I caught the last few words, which was enough to figure out that she was inviting me to play some sort of game with them.

"...so we just need one more player from our building and we'll have a team," she was saying with a highly amused expression on her so-homely-it's-cute face. "What do you say?"

I didn't really want to play any more stupid games, but if it meant I got to spend more time with this walking god I'd do just about anything.

"Yeah, uh, sure," I said, still not knowing exactly what I was agreeing to.

"Great! It'll be fun. By the way, Jake, this is Carlos. Carlos, this is Jake. He's a resident in Mohawk."

Carlos held out a hand which I managed to shake without moaning out loud.

"Let's go! The scavenger hunt is about to begin," Erin said as she jogged away.

At least now I knew what it was we were doing. A scavenger hunt didn't sound so bad, especially if Carlos was on my team.

Carlos followed Erin, and I trotted along behind him, enjoying the view of his nicely shaped bottom bouncing under the silky material of his soccer shorts. I was so mesmerized by his buns that I almost ran into him when he came to a stop. I looked up to see we had joined a group of four other kids. We moved to form a circle.

"Okay, guys, this is our team and we're gonna kick ass!" Erin enthused. "Quick introduction. We all live in the same building so we need to get to know each other and learn how to work as a team."

I was beginning to see the point in this little exercise.

She had us go around the circle and introduce ourselves along with our pronouns. There was Chloe, she/her, the chubby blonde with the dirty mattress from my first day. Then there was Alex, he/him, a long-haired hemp hippie sporting a tie-dyed T-shirt and sparse facial hair, smelling faintly of weed. Mira, she/they, was a gorgeous black girl with natural hair and an athletic body. Toshi, the androgynous Asian I'd spotted in the lobby, unsurprisingly used they/them pronouns. They were a pretty little thing with shoulder length hair, a delicate, heart-shaped face, and full, pouty lips shining with pink lip gloss. Carlos (he/him) and I rounded out the team.

Erin quickly outlined the rules, finishing up just as a whistle blew, signaling the start of the game. We spent the next hour running around the campus as if our very lives depended on the recovery of a napkin signed by the cafeteria lady with the pink hairnet. It didn't take me long to realize that, besides forging bonds between my fellow Mohawk residents, the game was designed to familiarize the freshies with the campus.

I'd already taken it upon myself to do that on my own, making the game even more pointless than it already was, but I played along happily since it turned out Carlos was the touchy-feely type. I was a little disappointed to see he was equally demonstrative with everyone, but it didn't really lessen the excitement I felt when it was me he grabbed me in a victory hug as we found another object from the list.

Despite our best efforts, we came in second. Since there was no discernable prize, I wasn't all that disappointed. Unlike Carlos, who, it seemed, was the competitive type. He was absolutely crushed by our first-loser status...and I wanted to be at the front of the line to console him. I was about to offer my services when Erin made an announcement.

"We're having our very first official Mohawk activity night this evening at eight in front of the building," she told us. "It's a pizza party, and I hope you'll all be there. Be sure to tell everyone you see."

"Are you going?" I turned to Carlos and asked.

"I don't have a choice," he said, almost blinding me with a flash of his sparkling white teeth.

Good oral hygiene is always a plus, I thought.

His next words snuffed out any budding hope that I might have a chance with this Adonis. "After all, my girlfriend is throwing the party."

"Oh. You and Erin..."

"Yep," he said, blissfully unaware of my dashed dreams.

Just then, Erin broke away from the conversation she'd been having with Sir Alex of Cannabis and approached us. "So, will you be there tonight, Jake?"

"No, I don't think so," I said flatly.

She looked genuinely disappointed. "Well, if you change your mind, feel free to come on down. The price is right. You can't beat free pizza."

"Thanks." I started back towards the dorm.

You ass, I chided myself. How are you going to make friends if all you do is mope in your room with Foster and the Neanderthal?

I had a point.

Besides, Erin and Carlos seemed like cool people even if they were hopelessly straight.

I turned back. "Hey Erin, I changed my mind. I'll see you tonight."

She lit up like a Christmas tree and waved in acknowledgment.

Feeling much better about my situation, I changed direction and went to get lunch at the Commons. I helped myself to a plate of some sort of stir fry and picked an empty table.

Becca and Adrienne walked by, and, for a second, I thought they were going to sit with me again. Thankfully, Becca settled for a little wave and kept going, much to my relief.

A few seconds later, Foster and Slug dropped into seats at my table.

"Dude, the food here rocks," Foster said while Slug nodded in contented agreement.

They both began to shovel huge gulps of meat and pasta into their mouths — complete with disgusting slurping sounds — and I immediately lost my appetite.

"Yeah, uh, I was just finishing," I said weakly.

"You gonna eat that?" Slug asked, pointing at my unfinished stir fry.

"Help yourself." I slid the plate toward him as I stood. "See you back in the room."

I spent the rest of the afternoon hiding in my room out of fear I'd be dragged into another team building game if I ventured outside.

At eight, I went down for the pizza party and was surprised to find I actually enjoyed myself. A good number of people showed up for the party. Erin had slipped flyers under everyone's door, and apparently teenagers responded positively to free pizza. Who knew?

I spent most of the time hanging out with Erin, who, it turned out, had a wicked sense of humor. We hit it off famously.

I really liked Carlos too, although I kept a little distance between the two of us. I still didn't trust myself to be too close to him without humping his leg or something.

I also got to know Toshi a little more. I was fairly sure they were queer, judging by how they shamelessly — and literally — threw themselves at any guy who moved within arm's reach, including me. They'd clutch your arm and press themselves against your side, while giggling and blushing adorably. Disentangling yourself was a little like fighting off an aggressively flirtatious octopus, but they were so darn cute you couldn't be mad about it.

There was a time when I would have had him in my bed before he had the chance to think twice. That was the old me, though. I was trying to put my slutty ways behind me. Not that there was anything wrong with enjoying sex, but like many things in my life, it had almost become an addiction for me. I craved the validation I received from the guys who wanted me. I thought it filled some yawning void inside me, but in reality, it just left me feeling even more hollow.

I was determined that the next guy I fell into bed with would be someone I'd gone on a real, honest-to-god date with, at the very least. These days I was yearning for connection more than just cock.

Not that I had anything against cock. I was definitely yearning for that too. Especially if it was attached to someone who just happened to look like the beautiful yet tragically heterosexual Carlos.

The party began to dissolve into smaller gatherings as the evening wore on. Some left to watch a movie in their room, while others broke off to play games or chat in more intimate settings. We weren't the only party on or off campus that night, and some moved on to other pastures. It was dwindling down to just me, Erin, Carlos, Toshi, and a few other stragglers when I excused myself to go up to my room.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" Erin asked as I stood up.

"Sure."

She walked away from the remaining group, and I followed her.

Once we were out of hearing range, she turned and faced me. "Okay, this is probably none of my business, but are you gay?"

I was caught off-guard for a second. Not that I had any problem with people knowing I'm gay. I'd been out since I was sixteen, and I certainly didn't intend on retreating into the closest ever again.

"Yeah, I am."

"Hey, don't get me wrong," she said quickly. "I'm perfectly cool with it. I was just wondering." She broke into a broad grin. "I figured you were from the look on your face when you saw Carlos for the first time."

I grinned. No point denying it. I'd been caught red-handed. "Yeah, sorry...but in my defense, he's a yummy piece of eye candy."

"Hell yeah, he is. But he's also a lot smarter than most people give him credit for. They look at him and think that anything that pretty couldn't possibly be blessed with a brain too, but he's here on an academic scholarship."

I loved her fierce defense.

"Well, brains or brawn, you don't have to worry about me trying to steal him away. Maybe once upon a time I would have pulled something like that, but not anymore."

She laughed. "That's not why I asked. It's just good to know these things as your RA. That way I can watch out for potential problems."

I frowned. "Do you expect any?"

"Problems? No, not really. VRU is a pretty liberal campus, but that doesn't mean there aren't a few rotten assholes in every barrel. I just like to be prepared. In other words, don't worry. I've got your back."

I had a sudden impulse to give her a hug, so I did. "Thanks."

She grinned at me again. "Keep that up and it's Carlos who'll be jealous."

I snorted. "Tell him not to worry. You're completely safe with me."

She wriggled her eyebrows. "Yes, but are you safe with me?"

We linked arms and walked back to the group giggling like school girls.

Carlos raised an eyebrow, but took our sudden bonding in stride. I guess when you look like he does you aren't too worried about someone stealing your girl.

I said my goodnights once again and went up to my room.

I opened the door to find the Neanderthal laying across my bed, arms folded behind his head and staring up at the ceiling. Foster was not in the room.

"Uh, hi..." I took a deep breath and forced myself to say it: "...Slug."

He rolled his big dark eyes in my direction — managing to look remarkably like a St. Bernard — and gave me a crooked smile. "Hi Jason."

"It's Jake."

He looked at me blankly.

"My name is Jake, not Jason," I explained slowly.

"Oh. Sorry. Hi Jake."

"Where's Foster?"

"Dunno."

"So, uh, how did you get in the room?"

"Foster gave me a key."

"He did, did he?"

I was going to have to have a talk with Foster about that. At the moment, however, I was more concerned about the fact that the Missing Link had given no indication that he was planning to remove his person from my bed any time soon.

"Yeah, um, did you know that's my bed?" I asked as politely as I could.

"Oh, did you want to get here?"

The idea seemed to catch him by surprise.

"Please?"

It felt odd to request the use of my own bed, but it seemed the saner course of action when dealing with someone named Slug, especially when he was closer to the size of Jabba the Hutt.

He laboriously worked himself to a sitting position, and with a few false tries, managed to get to his feet, where he stood swaying like a sapling in a stiff wind. It became all too apparent that Slug was drunk off his ass.

With an inward groan, I shut the door and steered Slug towards Foster's bed. I'd let him deal with his friend whenever he dragged himself in for the night.

Slug stood next to Foster's bed and stared at it without comprehension. Either this guy was dumber than I'd given him credit for or he was a lot farther gone than he looked.

I gave him a little push in the direction of the bed and watched in horrified fascination as he slowly took a nose-dive onto the bed, looking amazingly like a toppling Sequoia.

He bounced once upon hitting the mattress — testing its weight endurance to the limit, no doubt — and proceeded to pass out.

I was tempted to applaud the performance, but instead, I just turned and changed into a pair of boxers and a plain t-shirt. I was worn out and it wasn't even that late. One bad thing about being an early riser is that you get tired earlier too. When I was in full party mode it didn't really faze me — I'd just collapse every so often and sleep it off for a few days — but it had been a long time since I'd been in full party mode.

I was just about to drift off when Slug started snoring. No, snoring doesn't quite capture the unearthly noises that were emitting from his body. It started off sounding like a sty full of pigs fighting over the last choice bit of slop. It wasn't long before he'd worked up a full head of steam, however, and the noise was more like a 747 landing in the room with me while sucking a whole herd of terrified cows into its engines — maybe with bagpipes thrown in for good measure.

At first, I thought I'd wait it out. If it started suddenly, it stood to reason it might stop just as suddenly. Twenty minutes later, that theory wasn't holding water, and I was seriously considering holding a pillow over his big meaty head until the cacophony ended.

After a couple of hours of unending torture, I was near tears when Foster finally came back, fumbling in the dark and cursing under his breath.

"You might as well turn the light on," I told him, causing him to yip in surprise. "I'm awake and I don't think anything short of a nuclear blast would wake your drunken friend right now."

The light came on to reveal Foster staring fuzzily at his bed and its occupant. "Whatsh he doin' here?"

Great. Now I had two intoxicated idiots on my hands.

"Don't ask me. You gave him the key."

"Ish he makin' all that noise?"

"Apparently."

"Where'm I s'posed to sleep?"

"Oh, for God's sake!" I exclaimed. I leapt out of bed and grabbed my key. "Take my bed, but I swear, if you piss in it, I'll kill you."

"Where're you goin'?"

"Somewhere I can get some sleep."

I stormed out of the room and down the hall to the elevator. I took it to the first floor where an RA I hadn't met yet was on duty.

"Do you know what room Erin is in?" I asked the guy.

He raised an eyebrow but gave me her room number without arguing, and I quickly sought it out. I knocked softly on her door. When she didn't answer, I tried again, louder.

I was just about to give up when a very sleepy looking Carlos opened the door in just his boxers. I felt my jaw drop.

"Jake?" he asked with a great deal of confusion. "What time is it?"

"I, uh, I actually don't know. I just...I was going to ask Erin if I could sleep here, but I'll, uh, I'll go somewhere else..."

I knew my face had to be beet red. He looked even better without his shirt than I'd imagined. His pecs were defined, his brown nipples pert, and a tantalizing happy trail led down the valley created by his perfect six-pack to vanish into the promised land. The asshole even had the nerve to have a V-line, or as I preferred to think of them...cum gutters.

If I stood here another second, I'd be boned up.

I began my retreat, but Carlos called after me.

"Why can't you stay in your room?"

"It's, uh...occupied."

As annoyed as I was with Foster and Slug, I didn't want to get them in trouble. At least not until after I tried talking to them.

"So where are you going?"

I shrugged. "I don't know."

"Then come on."

"No, really, it's okay..." I was imagining myself snuggling between Erin and the nearly naked Adonis, and all my blood was rushing south.

"Come on. You can have the futon. It's not very comfortable but it's better than nothing."

I wasn't sure about that, but there was no way to turn him down without being rude — not to mention obvious. I trudged back to him, feeling like I was going to my own execution.

I stepped into Erin's room and my first thought was that it was a lot homier than mine — and bigger. A carpet covered the floor, a metal-framed futon faced a TV, and a papasan chair sat off to one side to create a conversation area. Beyond that, her desk had been situated in such a way to separate the sitting area from her bed. Framed posters and photographs adorned the walls.

Erin sat up in bed and stared at me as if trying to figure out why I was standing in her room at something o'clock in the morning.

"He got evicted from his room," Carlos said simply.

She nodded sleepily and dropped back down.

"Pull up some futon," Carlos offered.

He helped me convert it into bed mode and offered me a pillow, which I didn't accept since they only had two and both were already in use. I dropped to the lumpy mattress and squeezed my eyes closed.

A few seconds later, the light turned off, and I heard Carlos climbing back into bed with Erin. My eyes immediately popped open. Sleeping in the same room as that walking Michelangelo sculpture was going to be worse torture than staying in my room with Foster and Slug.

I don't know how long I laid there awake, staring at the wall and desperately trying to pretend that Carlos wasn't sleeping practically nude mere feet from me. I finally drifted off to sleep in the wee hours of the morning.

Unfortunately, my inner clock doesn't really give a damn what time I fall asleep. It woke me bright and early Saturday morning. I sat up and rubbed my aching eyes. I was in desperate need of my caffeine fix.

I got up and put the futon back in its sofa form, being as quiet as possible to avoid waking Carlos and Erin, then I let myself out of her room and took the elevator back up to mine.

I opened my door to be greeted by the symphony from hell that was still emanating from Slug. He didn't look as though he'd moved since I'd dumped him onto Foster's bed.

Foster, meanwhile, had somehow managed to pass out amidst the unbelievable racket and was still sleeping peacefully in my bed. He'd slobbered on my pillow. I was not happy.

I slammed the door but neither of them even flinched.

With a low growl, I yanked some clothes out of my dresser and exited the room, slamming my door again on the way out. It made me feel better even if it didn't really accomplish anything.

I showered, dressed, and shaved, then returned to the room. Neither of the two amoeba brains had so much as rolled over. I wanted to leap on Foster's back and beat him with my fists until he woke up, but I restrained myself with some effort and decided to go get some coffee before I hurt someone — namely myself.

I glanced at my phone on my way out. It was almost nine, about the same time I'd gone to The Morning Rush the day before. I wondered if that cute klutzy kid would be working again this morning.

What was his name? That loud woman had said it. Ah yes, Kody with a K.

The coffee shop was pretty much the same as I'd found it the day before — practically deserted.

Kody was behind the counter again but he was distracted by the shop's sole customer, a crotchety looking geezer with more hair coming out of his ears than on top of his shiny head. The guy was complaining that the coffee was too hot, a complaint I found to be absurd. If you want cold coffee, then order an iced coffee.

While they negotiated, I took the opportunity to really observe the barista. He was absolutely adorable, but in a quieter way that some people might overlook at first glance. Not the kind of beauty that demanded attention the second someone walked into a room, but the kind that snuck up on you until suddenly you couldn’t stop looking.

He was small, probably six inches shorter than me if I had to guess, with dark brown hair cut short on the sides and left longer on top. It was neatly parted this morning, making him somehow look even younger and more put together at the same time. His skin had a warm ruddy undertone that hinted at Spanish or Italian heritage, and the contrast made his pale gray eyes stand out even more.

And God, those eyes.

They were the sort of soft silvery-gray that almost didn’t look real, framed by dark lashes that most girls would probably kill for. Combined with his sharp cheekbones and delicate mouth, they gave him this strangely pretty, almost fragile appearance that pulled at something in my chest before I could stop it.

He looked like the kind of person the world could bruise too easily.

Not that he couldn't handle himself. He was handling the situation with the grumpy senior citizen very professionally. He remained calm, cool, and patient with the old fart. I was impressed. He didn't seem like the same person at all. He acted like this happened all the time, which it probably did.

They finally seemed to reach some sort of satisfactory compromise, and the old man shuffled off.

I approached the counter, and Kody looked my way. His eyes widened for a second, but then he pasted a professional smile across his face and the momentary look of panic was gone. I almost thought I might have imagined it.

"Hi," he said cheerfully. "You're getting to be a regular here."

"What can I say? I like the company," I said with a big smile. "All by yourself today?"

Nope, I hadn't imagined the panicked look. It was back again.

He laughed nervously and twisted his hands into his apron. "Uh, just for now. Marla will be back soon and Max is coming in...um, whenever. So, uh, what can I get you?"

He was a bundle of nerves. Somehow, it only made him cuter. Was he always like that? If so, how did he function?

"Well, I've had the espresso and the double cappuccino with whipped cream," I said. "What would you suggest I try now? It can be anything as long as it has lots of caffeine. I didn't get much sleep last night."

"I, uh...we have some really good specialty blends," he stammered, his face flushing.

"What's your favorite?" I asked, placing my elbows on the counter and leaning in towards him.

I was flirting just to watch him squirm at this point. I couldn't decide if he was uncomfortable because he was gay or because he was straight, but either way it was too much fun to pass up.

"Hazelnut, heavy on the cream, and a touch of honey," he responded without hesitation. “My, uh, personal favorite.”

"Sounds perfect," I purred, but to be fair, it really did sound good. "I'll have that. Maybe just a little lighter on the cream."

He rang me up and went to work preparing my drink. He handed me the ceramic mug emblazoned with their logo: a coffee mug on wheels with speed lines coming from it.

I raised it to my nose and took a long, deep sniff. It smelled heavenly. Then I took a small sip.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed that Kody was watching me closely for my reaction.

I made an exaggerated disgusted face and exclaimed, "That's horrible! How can you drink this stuff?"

He looked shocked for a moment, before his expression turned to horror. "I'm so sorry! You don't have to drink it. Do you want something else? It'll be on the house."

I laughed. "Kody, calm down. I was just kidding. It's really good."

He jerked when I said his name as if someone had goosed him. He took a deep breath and released it slowly. "So you do like it?"

"Yeah, I really do."

His face lit up with a smile that completely transformed him from cutie to hottie in under a second. I felt my breath catch in my throat, and all I could think about was making him smile like that again.

"Can I get you anything else?" he asked, and I realized that I was standing at the counter staring at him.

My brain was screaming at me to ask him out, but instead, I smiled and said, "No thanks. This is good."

I turned away and walked to what I now thought of as my table.

I don't even know if he's gay, I reasoned with myself in a vain attempt to justify my cowardice.

What was wrong with me? I'd never hesitated to ask a cute guy out before, even if I knew for a fact he was straight. ‘You never know’ had always been my motto.

If I was honest with myself, though, I knew exactly why I hadn't said anything. I hadn't seriously dated anyone since getting out of rehab. There had been a few dates here and there, but every single one of those guys had pursued me first, and I’d made damn sure none of them got too close. No one ever made it past the second date.

Why?

Because I was scared.

Not of them, exactly. Of what came after. The inevitable moment where someone starts looking at you like they might actually stay, and suddenly all the locked doors in your head start rattling.

If I let someone close, eventually I'd have to tell them about my past. And I was terrified of seeing someone's face change when they realized who I used to be.

Addiction was only part of it.

Honestly, the drugs and drinking almost felt easier to explain than everything underneath them. Those at least had names. Rehab. Sobriety. Recovery. People understood those words. They fit into neat little narratives where you hit rock bottom and then bravely claw your way back.

The rest of it was uglier.

The abuse. The murders. The spiral. The shame. The ways I’d let people use me because I didn’t know how to believe I deserved anything better. The constant fear that if someone saw all of me — not just the pretty parts or the funny parts or the flirtatious parts — they'd realize I was too damaged to love properly.

So I kept things shallow. Safe. A couple dates. Some flirting. Maybe kissing if I felt brave enough. Then I'd find a reason to pull away before the other person could decide to leave first.

It was easier that way. Lonelier, but easier.

All that introspection reminded me that I still needed to find a support group. My next therapist appointment was still a week away, and I was feeling a little squirrelly. I knew it was the stress of moving and being away at school, but I felt like my emotions were all over the place. I could have probably texted my therapist and she would fit me in sooner, but that felt like admitting defeat, and I wasn't that bad yet.

I risked a look in the direction of the counter and found that Kody was still watching me. Our eyes locked for a second before we both looked away — him pretending to clean behind the counter, me suddenly finding something infinitely captivating out the window.

This is ridiculous. He obviously likes you so stop being an idiot. It doesn't mean you have to tell him anything. It's only one date.

I stood up with sudden resolve and marched to the counter. Unfortunately, my timing was garbage. Kody glanced up just as he was wiping down the espresso machine. He jumped, yanking his hand back, and in the process snagged the dish cloth on the hot water handle. A jet of scalding liquid hissed out, spraying his arm and all down his front.

He yelped, leaping forward to shut it off, then bit down hard on his lower lip, standing stiff and wet...and obviously very much in pain.

My stomach dropped. “Oh my God, are you okay? I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

“You didn’t,” he ground out between clenched teeth.

“Let me help.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ve got it.”

Naturally, I ignored him and slipped behind the counter anyway. He was gripping the rag so tightly it looked like he was trying to strangle it.

“Did you get burned?” I asked, reaching for his arm.

He jerked away instinctively.

“Hey, it’s okay. I just want to see if you’re hurt.”

This time, he let me take his wrist. His forearm was flushed red but not blistered — bad, but not emergency-room bad.

“Does it hurt?” I asked.

“What?”

“Your arm. Does it hurt?”

“Not anymore...”

“Did it splash anywhere else?”

“Um...my leg?”

I glanced down at his bare calves below his shorts and crouched for a closer look. His eyes went wide as he stared down at me kneeling in front of him.

“Which one?” I asked.

“Which one what?”

“Which leg got the boiling water treatment?”

“Oh. Right. I mean — right as in my left. It was my left leg.”

I ran my fingers gently along his calf. His skin was warm, smooth, sun-browned — like someone who actually did things outdoors.

He shivered, and I jerked my hand away. "Sorry! I didn't mean—"

"You didn't—"

His leg looked fine, better than his arm anyway, but I still lingered.

“My official medical opinion,” I said, glancing up at him, “is that you’ll live. No permanent damage, unless you count emotional trauma.”

“Thanks,” he murmured, breathless.

I tore my eyes away and glanced around. “That’s the good news. The bad news is, uh, the floor looks like Lake Michigan. Do you have paper towels?”

He crouched beside me and grabbed another cloth from under the counter, handing it over without meeting my eyes. I took it, mopping at the puddle like a good Samaritan-slash-idiot who’d just made things ten times worse.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said softly.

I glanced over, caught his eye. “I know. I want to.”

He looked away, shoulders tense. “You really shouldn’t be behind the counter.”

“I feel like it’s my fault. I startled you.”

“Nah. I’m just a space cadet.”

But he didn’t push me out, just started blotting the floor with the dish rag still clutched in his hand.

We worked side by side in silence for a few moments, then he asked, “How’d you know my name?”

“That lady called you by name when she came in yesterday.”

“Oh.” Something in his voice shifted. Was that disappointment? “That’s Max. She’s the manager.”

“My name’s Jake,” I offered.

His eyes flicked up to mine. “Really?”

Why would I lie about that? I didn’t say that out loud, though, instead saying, “Yeah. Jake Sheridan.”

A crooked smile spread across his face, and my heart stuttered in my chest.

“Hi, Jake Sheridan.”

I grinned back at him. “Hi, Kody with a K.”

Just ask him, my inner voice hissed. I took a deep breath and tried to summon my courage.

"So, uh, would you like to—" I was interrupted by the bell that signaled the front door opening.

Kody shot to his feet so quickly you would have thought a jolt of electricity had zapped him in the ass.

"What were you doing on the floor?" the woman I now knew as Max asked.

Kody opened and closed his mouth a few times, but nothing came out. I stood up too, and her face became a comical mask of confusion. She looked back and forth between Kody and me as her expression took on a knowing look.

"Or maybe I should ask what you were doing on the floor with this hunk. Pretty sure he never turned in an application and I know for a fact I'd remember hiring him."

Before I could explain, Kody bolted through the office door, leaving me standing there looking guilty as hell.

Max's face was growing redder by the second.

It looked like I was going to have to talk my way out of this one — and judging by the color of Max's face, I'd better talk fast.

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