20. Mickey

CHAPTER 20

MICKEY

The first thing Mickey did after that was get a phone. It was a cheap phone with a bottom-of-the-barrel data plan, but he wanted to stay in touch with Ethan. He wanted to be able to do things like send him pictures of the progress he was making on his apartment, even if it didn't feel like his yet. Mostly, he just wanted a way to talk to him.

Ethan was important to him. The days he'd spent away from him with no way to easily contact him had been long and lonely. Mickey did his best not to bother Ethan when he was working, even after Ethan said it didn't matter because it wasn't like Ethan would get fired or anything. But Mickey tried to stay respectful of Ethan's time.

That didn't stop Mickey from sending Ethan racy selfies, though. He'd sent the first one on a whim. He'd just finished painting and was going to get into the shower, shirtless and sweaty and splattered with paint. He'd looked at himself in the mirror and a bit of the old Mickey came back.

The old Mickey that thought he was good looking. The one that had confidence. The one that didn't hate everything about himself. He took a picture and to commemorate the occasion, a typical bathroom mirror selfie, because why not, right? For the heck of it he'd sent it to Ethan and then he'd set his phone down and hopped into the shower.

He came back to a string of compliments and a couple of heart-eyed emojis. After that, the shirtless selfies increased in frequency. He never pushed Ethan to return the favor as he knew Ethan had some hang-ups about their age difference and maybe Ethan had always been too busy to really get into the whole naked selfie exchange thing.

In Mickey's opinion, Ethan had put himself last for far too long. He wouldn't say anything, though. It wasn't his place. They hadn't even put a label on what they were doing and Mickey had been too busy to make it back over to Ethan's. One of the other staff members had come down with a horrible stomach flu so Mickey was picking up their shifts. Between the extra hours and the slow progress he was making on the work he said he'd do on the apartment, there hadn't been time for much of anything besides texting.

Being busy actually didn't bother him. Every new thing about his life was weighed and measured against his old life and Mickey realized how much he'd let Lance take from him.

By the time he'd left, he had no friends of his own. No job. No contact with anyone who might help him. Lance had slowly but surely stripped him of every lifeline that he might have had, leaving him feeling trapped and helpless. Even when he'd been at Ethan's those first nights—sick as hell with nowhere to go and no one to lean on besides Ethan—Mickey hadn't felt trapped.

And every day that passed after that had been an awakening for him. He pulled his work shirt on over his head, tucked it into his jeans, then tied the apron around his waist. He was still pretty bad at parts of his job. He couldn't be trusted to carry more than three drinks just yet, but Shane was patient and the patrons were kind to him. Most everyone who came into The Anchor was a local and they were unreasonably nice to him even when he mixed up their orders.

Shane insisted that he improved a little each shift and that eventually he'd get the hang of everything. Instead of arguing, Mickey chose to believe him. He scooped his phone off the counter and sent Ethan a shirted picture, just to change it up, before heading downstairs to work.

Mickey didn't mind that the pass-through door remained locked. If he had it his way, Shane would brick it up. Mickey wasn't the type to jump to the worst case scenario, but he definitely liked that it was locked and no drunk asshole could slip by the staff on a busy night and violate Mickey's space.

The back door was closed and locked so Mickey had to walk around the front of the building. Winter still had her talons in and the wind had to have blown in straight from the Arctic. He was glad to get his ass inside.

"Don't you have a jacket?" Shane asked when he laid eyes on Mickey, who scurried into the bar and made a beeline for the warm kitchen at the back.

"It's upstairs. I didn't know it would be that cold out there."

Shane shook his head. "Wear your jacket next time."

Mickey tried to be annoyed, but he found himself smiling at the brusque way Shane sometimes showed he cared. "Yes, boss."

It was well after dinner and the bar had been busy all day despite the cold weather, or maybe because of it. Though the days were starting to get longer, they'd had a spell of overcast days, making the world seem dark and cold all the time. Shane had explained to him that sometimes the bar got busier when people were trying to battle the winter blues.

Tonight everyone in town seemed to be fighting the blues. Mickey was run off his feet and he still had hours to go in his shift when Spencer, Jonah, and Damon came through the front doors. They looked around and spotted an empty booth and headed for it. Jonah saw Mickey and smiled at him across the room. He nudged Spencer and Damon and they acknowledged him too. It was nice to feel like he belonged here.

Jonah came to the bar and leaned against it, looking at Shane rather than Mickey.

"Do you ever give your poor overworked staff a break, Shane?"

Shane rolled his eyes at Jonah. "Did you come to order drinks or did you come up here to bust my ass?"

"Why not both?"

"You're as bad as your dad."

Jonah's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Thanks! That's so nice of you to say."

"Mickey, put in your dinner order and when it's ready you can take your dinner break over at Jonah's table if you want." Shane poured two beers and then a soda and set them in front of Jonah. "Soda's on the house as always, but I'm charging double for the drinks tonight."

Jonah didn't take the bait. "Thanks, Shane." He turned his smile to Mickey next. "See you in a bit."

Mickey watched him weave his way back to the table, carrying three drinks with far more ease than Mickey had yet to manage. "Why do I feel like I've been ambushed?"

Shane laughed. "They're in here every few weeks for a night of drinks and darts. I'd have taken the dart boards down a long time ago if it weren't for them. No one seemed to have much of an interest in them when I first took the place over. But then those three came in and, after a few drinks, they decided to play darts. They don't even keep score half the time. I think they just like to throw shit." Shane poured a soda and handed it to Mickey. "I'll bring your dinner out in a minute."

"Bacon cheeseburger?"

"If you insist. Now go sit down before you fall over. You've worked your ass off tonight." Shane clapped Mickey on the shoulder then ducked into the kitchen. Mickey felt strange about going to sit in the main part of the bar to have his break instead of taking it in the back like usual.

Jonah and Spencer sat side by side, of course, leaving Mickey to slide in next to Damon.

"I see Shane released you." Jonah beamed. He looked a lot like Ethan, but there were features there that weren't Ethan's. Jonah had a softer sort of bone structure, but the eyes were Ethan's. And the smile too.

"I thought winter would be slower than this." Mickey took a sip of his drink and when he realized how thirsty he was, he ended up drinking half in one go.

"It usually is, to be honest. But every so often I think everyone has the same idea of not wanting to be trapped at home anymore, so we all end up here," Damon said.

"So who's the best dart player?" Mickey asked. It was strange to have a group of people to sit with. He wasn't sure if they were quite friends yet, but he wanted them to be.

Damon and Spencer both pointed to Jonah.

"It's the one thing I was better at than Colby," Jonah said. "He was hell to grow up with sometimes. The competitive jock in him had to make everything a competition."

"It's classic middle child syndrome. I've seen it a million times. They have to be better, faster, stronger, than everyone else. Especially their siblings." Spencer wrapped his arm around Jonah's shoulder and pulled him in closer.

"Aren't they gross?" Damon rolled his eyes.

"You're just sad that we made you leave your love nest." Jonah looked at Mickey. "We barely see him anymore. He's always with Taylor and Nash."

Shane appeared with Mickey's dinner, said a quick hello to the rest of the table, and then disappeared again. So far, Mickey had ordered the same thing every day. A bacon cheeseburger with fries and an extra pickle on a sesame seed bun. He was sure that the other food on the menu was equally delicious, but he'd gone so long without burgers that he felt like he was making up for lost time.

The conversation around him flowed, and they tried to pull him into it, but Mickey was busy eating. Until his cell vibrated in his pocket. He pulled the phone out and smiled when he saw Ethan's name pop up on his screen.

The diner would be closed the next day, so Ethan was asking if Mickey wanted company when he got off work. The answer was a resounding yes. After making arrangements for Ethan to swing by after Mickey got off shift, he tucked his phone away.

"Well, someone sure is happy tonight," Jonah said, smiling at Mickey.

Mickey, who sat grinning like a fool. He didn't even feel guilty that he'd started seeing Ethan and that Jonah was still in the dark about it. Ethan's kids were adults. Happily coupled-up adults. Mickey didn't imagine they'd begrudge their dad a bit of happiness.

Damon nudged Mickey's arm. "Someone was probably texting a love interest."

Mickey thought it was nice that Damon didn't want to assume his sexuality. "I was texting a guy, yes. And that's all I'm saying."

"Well, you're no fun. Ouch—Spencer, what the fuck?" Damon reached down to rub his shin. "That hurt."

"Don't be a pain in the ass. Leave Mickey alone," Spencer said. "Not everyone wants their lives to be snooped on."

Jonah was quiet about the whole thing and Mickey wondered if Jonah knew about Mickey and Ethan. It was a dumb thought. There was nothing to know about them. They hadn't had time to see each other since Mickey was over there last.

"It's new or I might say more, but I don't want to jinx it. I really like the guy." Mickey hoped Jonah remembered this conversation if he ever did find out about him and Ethan. A glance at the time had him standing up and grabbing his glass and his plate. "My break is over, but can I get you anything?"

"We'll take another round of drinks and an order of those onion rings," Spencer said. "An extra large one."

"You got it. And thanks for inviting me to your table. I appreciate it." Mickey felt a bit stupid saying stuff like that, but he needed to build bridges and gratitude was a good start.

He went back to work, counting the minutes until the end of shift. The next few hours were going to feel like days.