1. Chapter One

Chapter One

Roman

“ H ey, Dad,” I call out as I step out of my bedroom. “I’m heading to work.”

I walk into the living room, and the reason I didn’t get a response becomes clear. Dad is passed out on the couch. It looks like he sat down and just slumped over. His head is dropped back, mouth agape, eyes slightly open. I sigh as I stare at him, an ache blooming in my heart as I follow the slow rise and fall of his chest. He wasn’t always like this. I remember a time before Mom left, when he was fun. We would play board games together, he’d sing to me, read me bedtime stories, tuck me in, and check under my bed for monsters. Those days disappeared when she did, though. She left a shell of a man in her wake.

I don’t even remember her. At least not in any real way. There are no pictures of her anywhere, and the memories I do have are fuzzy and distorted. I know that when Dad gets drunk and mad, he tells me how much I look like her; how he can’t stand to see my face because of how much I favor her. It’s not like that’s my fault, though. I don’t recall her voice or if she was nice to me. But I do remember the end—the screaming, things being thrown, the hurtful words. I’d lie in my bed, clutching my stuffed rabbit to my chest, and cry into my pillow, trying to muffle the sounds so they wouldn’t know they had woken me up.

It didn’t much matter after that. She left, and Dad spiraled—lost himself so deep in the bottle that I don’t think he’ll ever find his way out. I asked him once why he thought she didn’t take me with her, why she left in the first place. I couldn’t have been older than nine or ten, but that didn’t matter to him. He asked why he wasn’t enough for me and beat me with his belt. The bruises and welts he left on my body lasted for weeks. Sitting down was torture.

I never asked again.

Shaking myself from my thoughts, I walk past him toward the front door. Nothing good will come from obsessing over what could have been, over what I used to have. All I can do is focus on the here and now. And right now, I have to get to work. I close the door quietly behind me and head to my car.

I pull into the parking lot and shut off my car. As strange as it sounds, working here is the highlight of my day. The moment I walk through the back door, the scent of freshly baked goods wrap around me. Cinnamon and vanilla fill the air, filling my senses. Mia is at the front counter when I arrive, so I grab an apron and slip it over my head, tying it off as I reach her.

Mia and her wife Emily moved here five years ago, and opened this place together. It’s become a fixture in our little town, the place everyone comes to for their coffee and breakfast fix. It wasn’t always like that, though. At the start, it was a mixed bag—the population was torn between accepting the queer couple in town and hating them based on that fact alone. Over the years, though, most grew to love and accept them.

Mia smiles at me the second she sees me. “Good morning!” Her deep blue hair is pulled back in a messy bun that somehow looks artfully styled, her matching blue winged liner perfectly applied, making her vibrant hazel eyes pop. She’s always sweet, but she saves a little extra for me. There’s something almost maternal about her, even though she’s only in her late twenties.

I gesture toward the front counter. “Good morning. Do you want me up here today?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind. Emily’s back there working on a new recipe, and I think she could really use my help.” There’s a playful glint in her eyes that makes me think there’s more to it, but I wave her on with a laugh and take my post.

Like always, I spend a few moments checking out the display case. Emily is the baker of the two and is always trying out new recipes. Some are delicious, and others… not so much. But I like to see what’s on the lineup for the day when I come in.

The door chimes and I straighten my spine, my practiced customer service smile sliding into place. In walks Beck Hart, the object of all of my teen desires and the reason I figured out I am, in fact, one hundred percent gay. My heart does a complicated flip as his eyes connect with mine. I’d love to say this reaction is a new thing, but it’s not. When I first met Beck in our high school gym class during freshman year, my heart tumbled over itself in a very similar way. I was too nervous to talk to him. He was this otherworldly presence. All big blue eyes, overgrown blonde hair, and a smile made of pure sunshine. Cue the start of a crush I haven’t been able to get over to this very day. And even now, he’s still so gorgeous—always wearing that smile—always bright and happy.

My throat goes dry as he approaches the counter. “Good morning, Roman. How are you today?” His lips curve into a sweet smile, and my eyes drop to track the movement.

“I’m fine. Good, even. Great.” I can feel heat creeping up my cheeks. He always gets me so damn flustered. I chuckle, embarrassed, and force my attention from his lips back to his eyes, taking a deep breath to compose myself.

His eyes brighten, his smile spreading as he looks at me. Within seconds, he’s chuckling softly, almost to himself, and the sound of it makes me lose whatever cool I had left. I suck in a sharp breath and choke on absolutely nothing , dissolving into a coughing fit. I hold a hand up to him, gesturing for him to wait. I finally manage to get control of myself. “How are you?”

He’s grinning at me like I’m a fucking loon, and to be fair, I am. I can’t help it—the tiny gap between his two front teeth and the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles takes me out. “I’m good.”

“Good, that’s good.” Ugh, be cool . “What can I get for you today?”

He glances at the case, his eyes scanning the options before he turns back to me with a shrug. “I’m not really sure. Any suggestions?”

“The orange soufflé coffee cake is really good. I don’t think you’ve tried that yet.”

He raises an eyebrow at me. “You keeping track of my orders, Roman?”

The question catches me off guard, and I stumble over my words. “Um, no? I mean yes. I suppose. But it’s… it’s like,” I stammer, heat flooding my face as I struggle, like always, to speak in his presence. His smile grows with each word, and I can’t believe this is happening to me right now. I take a deep breath, trying to get myself under control. “Yes, because it’s my job. I try to keep track of all the orders of our regulars. I’m not like, a weirdo or anything.”

He chuckles, and his eyes light up in a way that makes me a little dizzy. I wonder what it would be like to exude happiness and joy like that, to have that much happiness and joy inside. “Sounds good. I’ll try it. Can I also get a coffee, please? Iced vanilla?”

I think I’m officially done trying to have an actual conversation with him today, so I nod and tell him his total. Once he’s paid, I make his coffee and bag up his coffee cake.

I hold his coffee out to him. He bites his lower lip as he reaches out to take it. “Hey, so do you want to go to the fair with me this weekend?” The question shocks me so much I almost drop the cup, but thank God he’s got a better grip on it than I do because he saves it before it falls to the counter.

“Um, what?” I ask, unable to help the incredulous tone in my voice as I try to process what he said.

“The fair? It’s this week. Do you wanna go with me? We can hang out, ride some rides. Whatever you want.” His smile is endearing and sweet, maybe even a little hopeful, and all I can do is nod because yes, I would very much like that.

“Okay, great. Do you want me to come pick you up, or do you want me to meet you there? Actually, give me your number so I can text you, and we can hammer out the details later.”

He pulls his phone from his back pocket, and I manage to rattle off my number to him without stumbling over my words. Go me.

“Perfect. I’ll text you. What time do you get off today?” I’m honestly starting to wonder if I’ve fallen into an alternate universe. Is he asking me on a date, or does he want to hang out as friends?

“I, um, I get off at four today.” I summon all the courage I can muster. “Is this, like, a date or?”

His eyebrows furrow slightly, and he looks at me in confusion. “I mean, yeah. I kind of thought that was implied.” I can’t get my tongue to work to form words, and his face shifts from confusion to concern. “Oh shit, are you not into guys?”

I shake my head, and his face falls. “No, wait,” I blurt out in a panic. “I am. I mean, yes, I definitely am.” His expression immediately brightens.

“Okay, great. Me too, obviously. Hence the ‘I’m asking you out’ thing. On a date. So there’s no confusion.” He winks at me, and I nod dumbly, stuck in place and unable to say anything. It doesn’t seem to bother him in the slightest because he takes a couple of steps back and says, “I’ll text you, yeah? Talk to you later!” And walks right out the front door.

I stare at his back as he walks away. The second the door closes behind him, I slump against the counter, my heart still racing.

Mia lets out a loud laugh, startling me. “Well, that was traumatizing.”

“Holy hell. Didn’t even see you there. You scared the shit out of me.”

“No, I guess you wouldn’t see me, would you? Too busy staring longingly after Beck.” I turn to glare at her, but the smirk on her face lets me know she’s not the least bit bothered.

I shrug. “I can’t help it, really,” I admit. “He’s just so…” My words trail off on a dreamy sigh, and her nose crinkles.

“Can’t say I see the appeal myself, but I do love watching my little baby gay navigate his first crush. So, a fair date, huh?”

Butterflies take flight in my stomach. “I guess so. Holy shit , Mia. Beck Hart asked me out on a date.”

“Yeah, not surprising, honestly. I’ve been waiting for him to finally do it. That boy’s got stars in his eyes every time he comes in here. Always looks real disappointed when it’s not you working.”

I whip my head around and stare at her, mouth hanging open in shock.

“Close your mouth, honey, you’re going to let flies in.”

I manage to pick my jaw up off the floor, my mouth opening and closing a couple of times before I finally get out, “I had no idea.”

She shakes her head at me, amusement playing in her eyes. “Of course you didn’t, lover boy. I think you were probably too busy mooning after him. That boy’s obsessed. He’s a little cooler about it than you are, though.”

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I fumble to take it out, glancing down at the screen.

Unknown

Can’t wait for our fair date. So excited you said yes.

I’m staring down at my phone with what I’m sure is a dopey smile on my face, my fingers hovering over the reply button.

Me

Thanks for inviting me. Can I ask why, though?

I hit send on the message and save his number. He starts typing immediately, and a few seconds later, my phone buzzes in my hand again.

Beck

I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while. Wasn’t sure how to do it. You seem cool, and I want to get to know you better. The fair seemed like as good a way to do that as any.

I wrinkle my nose at that, my heart doing another one of those complicated flips. I glance up, my mind still reeling that Beck freaking Hart asked me out on a date, and find Mia watching me with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Is that lover boy number two?” she teases with a playful smirk.

I glare at her, but there’s no real heat behind it, and sigh. “Yes, it’s Beck.”

“Hmm, interesting,” she says, drawing out the sound. “He wasted like zero time texting you. He’s still in the parking lot.”

My heart skips a beat, and I jerk my head up, eyes widening as I glance out the window. Sure enough, Beck’s car is still there, and he’s staring down at his lap—probably looking at his phone—waiting for my response. I look back at my screen, unsure how to reply.

“Tell him you think he seems cool, too,” Mia suggests. Her voice is teasing, but also a little encouraging.

“Stop reading my messages, woman,” I grumble, trying to sound annoyed, but not quite managing it.

Her melodic laughter fills the room, bringing a smile to my face. My cheeks are on fire as I type out a message to him and hit send.

Me

You seem cool, too. Better get back to work. Text you when I get home?

I don’t even have time to put my phone in my pocket before it buzzes again.

Beck

Yes, please.

I glance up toward his car again and catch him looking right at me, a goofy smile on his face that I’m sure is echoed on mine.

“Ahh, young love,” Mia muses. “We love to see it.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a menace?”

She gives me a huge grin as she starts to walk toward the back. “Yes. Many times, in fact.” I roll my eyes as she disappears from view, but I can’t wipe the smile off my face.

I tuck my phone back into my pocket, my heart racing, and turn back to the counter, feeling lighter than I have in a long time.