Chapter 9

9

Percy

I really need to screw my head on straight.

Too much is happening right now, and it is literally breaking my brain. The bakery's struggling, I have to get a new oven, I've organized all the stores to band together and not sell our businesses to the greedy corporate overlords, and Ben is back in town and looks better than a ten-inch dick – not to mention, how he's making me feel.

He is totally making me feel things, and it's freaking me out. It's unnatural, yet it feels natural at the same time. I'm a hot mess.

What the fuck is seriously wrong with me? He threw me away like I was worthless after making me feel like I was everything. My first kiss – my first touch – my first explosion in the universe. He took it all away. But he had been hurting, too. He had needed help and had no one to tell him that it would be ok.

He apologized, and I really think he was sincere. It felt honest, and he seemed so sad about it, and I'm glad he's happy now. I am! But it's been almost fourteen years since my hands roamed his body and his lips crushed into mine. Why now? Why is he here standing before me and trying to… What is he really trying to do? Date me? That's just… It melts my fucking brain. I have to be misreading his… apology – don't I? No. I think he made it very clear…. My mind melted.

Coffee?

I guess I could do coffee. It's a public place, and he can sit across from me, and it'll be safe, and I shouldn't have to worry. Dinner comes with too many possibilities . I mean, a drink or two, and all of a sudden, my defenses drop, and… No, I can't do that. I won't give him that kind of power over me again, and it would be so easy to slide, even after all these years.

It was sincere, though. I really do think he meant it. But what, if anything, does it change? He was my first, and to be honest, it had become more than friendship to me before that night. My first crush – a powerful thing. Enough power to absolutely destroy me if I let him in again, and it all went to shit.

All of these thoughts had been spinning around my head as I met the other business owners to discuss how we were going to handle saying no to the corporation that was trying to destroy our livelihoods. So far, everyone had decided to stick together, even with one of them walking around and trying to smooth over the deal. Whoever it was knew better than to come into my shop.

Is it a bad deal? No. But these have been our businesses for a long time, and I plan on staying in the building where my family began the bakery all those years ago, before I was even born. I don't want to move. Could I use the money? Duh…

But I am a bull-headed Taurus. They will pry the keys from my cold, dead hand. It would be different if the majority wanted to sell. Then, I would have to think about the majority instead of just myself. But the city does want this resort. It would be good for… I get it. Tourists are not a bad thing. It would help us all. But my roots are here. It would break me to see this place demolished.

My biggest surprise was Susie changing her mind tonight. She had been wishy-washy about selling the Dress Emporium, but tonight, at our meeting, she said that she would stand with us. They can't make us sell unless the city decides to use eminent domain for what they consider the best interests of the community. That would be impossible for us to fight. The mayor has not returned my phone calls, and that is concerning.

It would have been nice if Tim actually came to any of our meetings. I know he's an absent owner of the burger joint, but I can't believe he doesn't care about the people that work for him. Tim is nice , and nice usually cares. He's also incredibly nice to look at.

Jesus… Tammy Sue is right. I am a walking hardon who really needs to get laid.

I have always had this thing for jock boys since I could remember. At one time, we were all really friendly, but high school changed everything. I secretly pined for Ben, who had been one of my better friends before we had our night in the tent. But I had also enjoyed watching Tim as he strutted around the school behind the larger and even more attractive, Ben.

God… I was so messed up. Horniness was a vicious circle.

I grabbed one of the chairs from our small circle and started stacking them on top of each other. I liked to leave a place better than I had found it and the Foggy Basin Auditorium had graciously allowed us to use it for our meeting.

Lockstep – we had to stay in lockstep, or we would lose everything.

"Need some help?"

Ben's voice caught me so off-guard that I dropped the chair in fright and yipped a small scream. It was not one of my best gay moments. Humiliating, actually, especially in front of him.

"Looks like you do." Ben jumped up on the stage, and I picked up the chair before he could get to it and stuck out my tongue – instantly admonishing myself. God, I reverted quickly around him to that silly boy with a crush.

"I got it. What are you doing here? I really think you may be stalking me."

"I might be." He chuckled, and my skin rippled in goosebumps. Damn, he had a sexy… everything. Don't think about the sexy part! That way lay danger.

"Stop it." I admonished and went back to stacking chairs.

"Would that be so bad?" He stacked one of the chairs and turned to me.

"It depends on whether you're a serial killer or not. Remember that I don't know this information. Maybe you are, and maybe you aren't. I'd need proof." I was going to go to hell for flirting, but I couldn't stop myself.

"Proof that a serial killer would go to any lengths to hide? I don't see how that's possible. I mean, I don't have a record." He picked up another chair and added it to the stack.

"Neither would a successful serial killer." I was totally sliding right back to that thirteen-year-old boy with a first crush.

"Ok, this is starting to get really creepy. I am not, nor have I ever been, a serial killer." He chuckled again, and my fucking skin tingled. The hair on my arms stood straight up.

"Well, stalking is just a skip and a jump from slicing and dicing."

"I was having dinner over at the Blue Star and saw you walking in here with a bunch of other people. Are you a cult leader?" He asked quickly. "I might need proof before I decide to continue stalking you or not. Maybe I'll join?"

"Oh, we don't accept himbos into our ranks. It gets too messy. You're all attention whores. No one can join who might take away devotion from the cult leader."

"No one could ever take attention away from you. I don't think you know how people see you. You're too pretty for your own good."

My heart raced. "No himbos."

"Things change. Maybe I don't see myself as a himbo?" He crossed his arms quickly and his biceps and chest both flexed to the point I almost hyperventilated.

"It does not matter what you think," I laughed way too loudly as I stacked another chair. "You are and always will be a himbo by definition. Your shirt looks like it's been painted on."

"I work hard," he said proudly. Another flex almost dropped me to my knees.

"You always did." I whispered.

"What's the point of having muscles if you're not gonna show them off?" He literally popped his arm in front of me, and his bicep was close enough for me to kiss. I stepped back.

"Oh, they are easy to see."

"I'm glad you noticed." That fucking grin of his was so kissable it was maddening. Why was this happening to me right now? I turned around and slowly picked up a chair, just trying to screw my head back on straight. "I chose this shirt today because I remember how much you liked blue. You used to love to lay down on the ground and look up at the sky."

"You remember that?" I slowly turned back to him and looked into his eyes.

"Dude, I remember everything. Don't you?" He took a small step towards me, and I almost dropped the chair. He reached out and steadied it. I could feel his breath on my face.

"I… uh… Yeah. I do." I stepped away and walked over to the large stack of chairs.

"I wonder if your skin still feels as hot as it did back then?"

I dropped the last chair and stepped back as his words took me completely out of myself. All I could do was stare at it lying on the ground. I couldn't glance over at him. If I did, I would be lost.

"Let me get that." He bent down and looked up at me as he hefted it up with one arm – his bicep bulged as he set it on top of the others. "Last chair. Now, what are we going to do while we continue this flirtatious banter?"

"You can't just… It's not that easy." I managed to finally say after a very awkward moment.

"It could be. Don't you think?" He stepped forward.

"I don't know what to think."

"Maybe thinking is overrated." Another step.

"Then how would we function?" He was so close I could…

"Like this." Before I knew what was even happening, his lips were on mine, and his arms circled around my waist, pulling me tightly against his hard body. My hands reached up and grabbed him by the back of the hair as I opened my mouth, and his tongue slid against mine hungrily. His breath was so hot as I bent my neck back and gave myself over to the hunger I felt and had always felt, even through the fear and angsty longing of our twisted past.

The ground beneath me dropped away, and only his arms encircled me, holding me firmly in place. His body against mine and my hand entwined in his hair as he…

I shoved him backward, and without another word or glance back, I ran as fast as my legs could carry me out.

It was too much, and I wanted it too badly. He was visiting, and I lived here. What could come of this but another sad moment with him? I didn't want that , even if I did want him .

I ran back to the bakery and locked the door behind me. I spent the next four hours baking pastries. But all I could think about was how hot his lips and breath were and how my skin tingled as he held me.

Being a coward was my only chance for survival.