5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Jeff

W hile Jeff spritzed the food court tabletop with cleaning solution, his eyes wandered to the clock on the wall, and he heaved a sigh. Fuck. He’d been checking the clock every fifteen minutes since the start of his shift Sunday morning, not to see how much time was left before he could leave, but to see how much time was left for Gary to come return his coat.

Why had he thought that leaving it behind would mean Gary would try to find him? What a ridiculous plan that had been. Rather than showing up at the mall, Gary’d probably either keep the coat or bring it to Jeff’s house, which would mean he’d simply stuff it inside the mailbox once he saw that Jeff wasn’t even home. Despite the fact that Jeff knew his plan was stupid, he still couldn’t stop imagining Gary strolling into the mall, coat in hand, saying something like “Heya, Jeff. I couldn’t stand the thought of you facing the frigid Ohio winter without your trusty coat, so I wanted to return it to you as soon as humanly possible” in that beautiful voice of his.

What a stupid thought that was. Jeff needed to figure out a way to stop this pointless crush. Maybe once he was back home, he’d set his clock radio on fire.

Over the next few hours, Jeff’s thoughts kept circling back to Gary—to his corny humor, cute glasses, and the fact that he had served potato salad in those weird clown bowls—and each time, he kind of wanted to punch himself in the face for fixating on him so much.

By the time Jeff completed his shift, his thigh muscles were throbbing from having been on his feet for nearly eight hours straight. He left for home, trudging out to his car and then sighing with relief the moment he sat down in the driver’s seat. For the entirety of the ten-minute ride home, he continued to chastise himself for purposefully leaving his coat behind. Why the hell had he pulled such a pointless stunt? Nothing could ever happen with Gary. Nothing! Even if , somehow, by some miracle, Gary liked men, and even if, by some other miracle, Gary somehow started to like him . Nothing could happen. Not a kiss. Not a one-night stand. Nothing.

So why couldn’t he stop thinking about the beautiful man from the radio?

Turning the corner onto his street, Jeff automatically glanced ahead to find his house, and when he spotted Gary sitting on his stoop, his heart started thundering in his chest, elation mixing with nervousness mixing with a sense of holy fuck, the plan had somehow worked . Flashing the silliest, most adorable smile Jeff had probably ever seen, Gary stood, holding up Jeff’s coat like some kind of trophy. Jesus.

After pulling the car into the driveway, Jeff cut the engine and took a breath, telling himself to play it cool.

Swinging open the door, he said, “Hey, Gare.”

“Heya, Jeff,” Gary replied before shaking the coat. “You left this behind.”

“Hadn’t realized,” Jeff said, though he was already fighting the urge to cover his bare forearms to shield himself from the wind. Ugh. Ohio. When he started to shiver from the cold, he shoved his hands into his pockets to try to hide it. “Nice of you to bring it, though. ”

“Oh, it wasn’t a problem. I needed the exercise. I think I might try to be a model for one of those muscle magazines someday.”

Even though Jeff knew that Gary was only being silly, that comment had the irritating consequence of making Jeff wonder what Gary’s body looked like under that ill-fitting olive-colored parka of his. Clearly he was no body builder, but Gary had looked fucking fine in the sweater he’d been wearing yesterday. Jeff bit his bottom lip as the memory of Gary leaning over him to fetch the tape recorder flitted into his mind. He’d smelled so nice, like citrus and sweat and—

Gary thrust out his hand that was holding the coat, and the sudden movement pulled Jeff out of his head before some raunchy fantasy could begin to form.

“Here.”

“Thanks.” Jeff took the coat and threw it over his shoulder, even though his body was screaming at him to put it on, especially when a cold breeze blew past. “Do you, uh, want to come in? I have...” He paused, racking his brain for ideas. “...coffee.”

“Yeah?” Gary asked before shaking his body in a comical manner and saying, “Anything to warm up.”

Jeff was about to make some snarky retort, but then he realized his teeth were threatening to chatter, so instead, he turned and hurried inside. Once they were in the mud room, the warmth from his house made him shudder.

Gary chuckled. “Wow, you weren’t cold out there at all, huh?”

“It’s the temperature change.”

“Uh-huh.”

Pursing his lips slightly to keep himself from smiling too much in return, Jeff started toward the kitchen, kicking off his shoes on the way. Gary followed in short order.

“Hey, wait, how about a tour?” Gary asked, coming up behind him .

And Jeff fought back a wince. Honestly, the thought of Gary scrutinizing his home made him feel slightly nauseated. Even though he’d been renting it for years, he hadn’t really decorated or done any renovations or repairs to make the place look like a respectable home for a twenty-something-year-old man.

“Uh, sure,” he said reluctantly, because how big of an asshole would he have been to say no?

Jeff took Gary through the living room, trying not to cringe as he imagined what Gary must think of the horrible fake-wood paneling, and then showed Gary to the bedroom. Thankfully, he had remembered to clean up most of his clothes, save for a pair of briefs left on the floor (fuck), and the room was otherwise unremarkable, littered with records and tapes and a pitiful number of books. And of course there was more hideous wood paneling on the walls. Dammit.

Afterward, while they walked toward the kitchen, Gary poked his head in the bathroom, which was probably the worst room in the house, featuring a chipped sink, light-blue floor tile, and ugly flowery wallpaper that was starting to peel. Throughout this sad tour of what Jeff thought would probably be his forever-bachelor life, Gary seemed... excited, maybe? Or was he trying to mock Jeff with that too-happy facial expression?

Whatever it was, it was cute.

Which was oh-so infuriating. Gary was too Goddamn cute.

Once they were in the kitchen, Jeff set to work on making the coffee, if only to keep himself from obsessing over Gary’s reaction to his house, while Gary continued to scrutinize the room, inspecting the kitchen appliances from the sixties, the weird farm-themed wallpaper, and the permanent stain on the off-white tile floor.

“Do you own the place?” Gary finally asked .

“Oh yeah,” Jeff said, really leaning into the sarcasm. “Don’t you love the style?”

“Shyeah, especially the roosters,” Gary said, clearly and thankfully catching on. “Why, your home should be in some sort of magazine.”

“Think I’d put Martha Stewart to shame?”

“Definitely. I’m sure her home looks like crud compared to this.”

With a light chuckle, Jeff leaned back to rest against the counter, and then he and Gary were smiling at each other in a weird kind of way, one that was making Jeff feel like his heart might fucking melt. Finally, the coffee maker beeped, and Jeff forced his eyes away and turned back around so he could pour them each a cup.

“Milk?” Jeff offered, opening the fridge.

“Nah, I like it black.”

“Oh.” He shut the fridge, feeling pleasantly surprised by this insignificant similarity between them for some stupid reason. “Me too.”

Something about the way Jeff said that—as though the fact that they took their coffee the same way was nothing short of miraculous—must have seemed worthy of some light teasing because Gary responded with a smirk.

“Wow, yeah, what a rarity we are,” he said in the most sarcastic voice possible before tacking on, “Black coffee. Couple of weirdos over here.”

Heat rushed to Jeff’s cheeks, and he instinctively held up his coffee cup to try to hide a little while he sampled the oh-so-rare black coffee he and Gary both seemed to enjoy.

Over the next few minutes, neither of them said much while they sipped their coffee, but Jeff knew that he should probably try to make conversation, especially if he ever wanted Gary to talk to him again .

“So...” Jeff sucked on his teeth while he tried to come up with something to say. “What’s... the hardest thing about running the radio station?”

“Hm.” Gary placed his cup on the counter and began tapping his lip with one of his fingers. “No one’s ever asked me that before. Let me think.”

Gary continued to tap-tap-tap his plump, pink lips, and Jeff couldn’t help but stare. Gary was... wow. He was handsome, but in this incredibly modest way, like he clearly had no idea how insanely cute he was, which only made everything worse. And he had this... this way of being, like he was both cool and dorky at the same time.

Jeff’s heart started fluttering. Stupid. Ugh, he was so into Gary Goddamn Graham.

“Is it, uh, the hours?” Jeff offered, trying to take his mind off of the slightly upsetting revelation that he liked Gary a whole hell of a lot.

“Nah, maybe... trying to keep everyone entertained. I mean, I live for that, and still, it’s— phew —it’s hard. I’m constantly trying to find interesting topics for my shows, and even when I find them, I struggle to keep the facts straight in my head sometimes. I have . . .” He blew out a long, exaggerated breath. “Boy, I have a lot of books.”

Interesting that Gary lived for entertaining people.

“Were you always an entertainer?”

“Uh, yeah, pretty much. See, my mom was sad a lot, especially...” Gary stopped and shook his head. It was like he was trying to catapult some horrible memory right out of it. “Well, she seemed to like when I was silly. At least... when I was little. And, uhm, well, when I was in elementary school, the other kids made fun of me a lot, probably because I was kind of eager to learn and couldn’t manage to hide the fact that I loved school. Eventually, I figured out that when I was funny, and especially when I teased myself, the mean kids left me alone. Mostly. Kind of. Anyway, yeah, those two things combined, I think.”

Taking a sip of his coffee, Jeff let Gary’s words settle in his head. Apparently, nerdy Gary had always been nerdy. Jeff kind of liked picturing him as a kid. He’d probably been pretty cute. Glasses. Button-up shirts. Neatly styled hair. Yeah, little Gary had probably been the poster child for teacher’s pet, especially with that old-people jargon he seemed to like to throw around. “Gee, class today sure was swell!” Jeff had to bite the inside of his bottom lip for a second to keep his burgeoning smile contained. He wondered if they’d have been friends back then. Probably not. Jeff hadn’t been the nicest kid himself. Gary, on the other hand, had probably been the swellest kid around.

Jeff was still picturing little Gary when Gary’s next comment pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Now, well, I like being someone everyone can rely on. You know, for news and weather and conversation. I like that everyone knows me.”

“You like that pretty much everyone likes you, I bet. Everyone needs you, too.”

“Guess you can say that. Yeah,” Gary replied with a smile. Then he glanced up at the cat clock on the wall, and his smile turned to a frown. “Oh boy, I should head back.”

Jeff tried not to let his own disappointment show. “Time for the radio?”

“Almost.”

So, Jeff walked Gary out, and then, once Gary had ridden his bike out of view, Jeff returned to the kitchen. While pouring himself a second cup of coffee, his thoughts wandered straight back to Gary—his bright eyes, his stupid humor, and that beautiful, velvety voice. And once again, he couldn’t believe his stupid stunt—leaving his coat behind at Gary’s place—had actually worked.

***

Later that night, Jeff sat back into the cushions on his couch and listened as Gary Graham rambled on about some new building under construction nearby, the sound from the radio not quite soothing him like it normally would. He’d just returned from a night out with Brandon less than one hour before, and he realized he was still swaying a little. He let out an irritated, rumbly groan. Yeah, he’d probably had too many cocktails.

Good thing Brandon had been the one behind the wheel.

Good thing they hadn’t seen Don either.

Every time he and Brandon went out to a bar, especially if the bar was in Newton Falls, he’d spend the entire time feeling like a tightly wound top—nervous and tense, on the lookout the whole time, his thoughts poised to spiral out of control. But, still, he couldn’t let Don win . And so, he went out with Brandon. A lot. Probably too often. Especially because he sometimes had a couple of beers when he got home too. Or a few fingers of whiskey on the really hard nights.

It wasn’t smart. Jeff knew it wasn’t smart. He had lost his mother to the lure of the bottle. And yet, here he was, swaying while sitting on the fucking couch, having had too many cocktails to manage to stay upright.

As of yet, Jeff never felt the need to drink. Only the want.

But it was probably only a matter of time .

Shame settled over him, heavy and uncomfortable, the emotion only slightly numbed from the whiskey sours he’d had at the bar. Resting his head in his hands, Jeff let himself become lost in Gary’s silly weather forecast while the room started to spin.

“Let’s take a look out the popular weather window. According to my wind indicators, it seems to be a bit breezy out there, seeing as though they’re exhibiting some movement. And, you know, if I can stand to shut my mouth for a moment, I think I’ll hear their faint clanging in a second too.” Gary paused, probably to listen to his wind chimes. “Yup. So, bundle up if you’re heading out tonight, because I’m sure it’s even colder with the wind chill.”

Goofy man, that Gary Graham. Jeff could barely stand how much he liked him. Gary was everything Jeff wanted, even if he’d never known it until now. He was sweet and silly and the embodiment of someone who had probably been the president of the AV club when he was in school. Basically, Gary was the opposite of every other man Jeff had ever been with. He was fucking incredible.

He had to figure out a way to see Gary’s stupidly cute face soon. Maybe he could bring Gary something? Pretend that he had stumbled upon something Gary could use. But what?

After a few more seconds of muddled thinking, Jeff glanced over at the storage closet across the room. Maybe that could work. Slowly, he peeled himself off the couch, his whole body wobbly and tingly, and then he stumbled over and opened up the closet. When he pulled one of the boxes from the closet’s top shelf, the entire stack nearly came crashing down on top of him, but he somehow managed to have the wherewithal to reach out and shove the rest back into place.

Kneeling, Jeff pried the box open. It was filled with a whole bunch of books from his late mother’s bookcase and books his father had mailed him—probably some kind of “I’m still your father” bullshit, even though Jeff hadn’t spoken to his father in years. Shoving the unpleasant memories of his parents to the side, Jeff began riffling through the contents of the box. Mostly fiction. But a couple of random nonfiction books too. One on birds. One on space. One on navigating loss. Yeah, Gary’d like these. He could thumb through them for factoids for his shows.

Quickly, Jeff snatched his backpack from the closet and filled it.

Once he returned to the couch, Jeff continued to listen to Gary’s nonsense show, surprised to find that he was now enjoying most of it, though he still wished he had a set of earplugs for the music portions. While Gary read off a couple of commercials, Jeff closed his eyes and let himself fantasize about what it would be like to kiss the silly man from the radio. God, how he wanted to. Gary’d probably be a fantastic kisser. Better than every other man Jeff had ever kissed. Why had he let himself be with so many complete and utter pieces of shit over the years? It had taken the very worst experience of Jeff’s life to wake him up to his pattern of falling for terrible men. So, maybe Don had given him that, at least—clarity.

And now that Jeff had clarity, he was able to like people like Chris Phillips, the meteorology student from Oklahoma who had been so fucking nice and had taught him everything he knew about storm chasing, and Gary Graham, the corniest, smartest, kindest Goddamn person Jeff had ever met.

So, yeah, it seemed like Don had provided Jeff with the ability to like men who weren’t the least bit terrible. All it had cost him was the ability to ever be happy with any of them. Or happy without them.

All it had cost him was the ability to be happy at all.