Chapter 3

I surveyedthe selection of snacks available in Zach’s pantry. He had the usual bag of Doritos and box of Cheezits, along with microwavable bags of popcorn. But I’d had a rough few days. I needed something sugary.

“It’s your week to choose the movie, Austin,” Jordan called from the living room.

“You choose. I don’t care!” I shouted back, intent on finding the good stuff, which Zach had probably hidden in the hopes I wouldn’t eat it.

Ah, there!

I shoved aside the bag of pistachios that had moved in when Tristan did and seized the cookies. I snatched the whole bag and headed for the living room, where the rest of my friends had settled into the best seats.

I looked at Tristan, settled into the corner of the sofa—my corner before he came along—and internally grumbled about boyfriends invading the friend zone. Correction: Tristan was a fiancé now. Zach was gazing down at their linked hands, his engagement band catching the light, a goofy grin on his face.

But then, I’d grin too if I had someone that special in my life. My last girlfriend hadn’t lasted long enough to even meet my friends. She was more interested in a guy who could “provide” for her than an emotional connection. Considering I ran a small store with thin margins, I was not that guy.

I took a seat on the floor in front of the sofa, leaning against Becca’s legs. We’d thought about dating for a hot minute, but one kiss had told us the chemistry just wasn’t there. She was too wholesome and sweet for me; I usually ended up with women who had more attitude.

Though maybe I should try to break that cycle…

“Hey, when did Oreo make a bisexual cookie?” Jordan asked, eyes on the bag in my hand.

I glanced down at the cookie stuffed with pink and blue cream filling. Then the front of the package. “It’s some sort of space edition.”

“Sure it is,” Ellis said with a giggle.

I glanced at the other new addition to our friend group. He sat on the footstool by Jordan, and as usual, I couldn’t tell if they were just friends or something more. Jordan wasn’t much for dating, but Ellis was so pretty he almost made me look twice, and I wasn’t into guys. I grew up with a gay great-uncle, had lots of queer friends, and had even kissed a guy a time or two while drunk, usually at the urging of some woman I was into, but there were never any sparks.

I shrugged and took a bite of cookie then moaned at the crackle of Pop Rocks hiding in the cream. “Amazing,” I mumbled.

“That’s what he and she said,” Becca joked.

Zach pulled up the movie screen and went to click on You’ve Got Mail. “Okay, time for Austin’s favorite—”

“Wait,” I said. “Anything but that.”

All my friends looked at me in surprise. And no wonder. I usually didn’t care what movie we watched, but when it was my turn, I always picked You’ve Got Mail. Mainly for Meg Ryan. She was in other movies, of course, but something about her chemistry with Tom Hanks as they sniped at each other did it for me.

“Do you feel okay?” Becca asked, lowering the back of her hand to feel my forehead.

I pushed it away. “I’m fine. Just not in the mood to watch this.”

“But it’s like the only rom-com you like,” Zach said.

I shrugged and shoved another Oreo in my mouth. My friends exchanged looks.

“Okay, spill,” Jordan said. “What’s up with you?”

“You’ve been moody all night,” Zach added.

“’m not moody,” I mumbled through my mouthful of cookie.

Becca nudged me with her foot. “Liar.”

“Fine.” I swallowed. “It’s not a big deal. I’m just having a bit of business angst, and this movie will only make me dwell on it.”

“That store across the street?” Zach asked. I’d told him about it the night he and Tristan got engaged.

“Yeah.” I ran a hand through my hair. “The owner came in yesterday. I guess to scope out all my inventory so he can more effectively wipe me out.”

“Surely that’s not why he was there,” Ellis said, looking horrified.

I shrugged. “Dunno. He didn’t exactly announce who he was. I saw his name on his card when he was checking out, and once I put it together, he left in a hurry.”

“So he bought something? Maybe he was just shopping,” Becca said, but then she was always looking for the best in people.

“He bought two albums that were nothing alike. He either has very eclectic taste or he just used that as a cover to spy on me.”

“Well, you like all kinds of music,” Becca pointed out.

“Yeah, but he’s a record store owner,” Jordan said. “It’s kind of a requirement of the job.”

“Thank you,” I said. “But it’s true I’m not the only polyjamorous guy out there.”

Jordan snickered. “Aw, cute, you’re trying to be queer with us.”

I flipped him the bird and carried on. “But this guy grabbed the second album without really looking at it. Pretty sure he didn’t care what he picked up.”

Because he was staring at me.

I wasn’t going to say that part, but I had definitely noticed the way Chase Fox’s gaze had latched on to me and lingered. His niece had announced he was gay, so it wasn’t totally surprising. I was a decent enough looking guy. But there had been an intensity to his interest that I hadn’t experienced from anyone before, male or female.

“Well, damn. Do you really think that store will put you out of business?” Jordan asked.

“I don’t want to believe it, but business hasn’t been great for a while. The last thing I need is some mega entertainment store moving into the neighborhood.”

Becca squeezed my shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Zach said.

“Yeah,” Ellis echoed. “That sounds so stressful.”

“I know someone who writes for a Seattle business blog,” Becca said. “Maybe they could write something that would drum up support for indie businesses.”

“And I could research if there’s any legal regulations they’re violating,” Ellis added. “My ex-boyfriend has access to a whole legal library. Maybe he’ll help.”

Jordan rolled his eyes. “Don’t count on it. He’s pretty busy dating that snobby rich chick, Blaire. I take Business Law with her, and she’s so pretentious.”

Jordan was taking business and law courses, with the plan to go into corporate law. It sounded godawful to me, but he thrived on brainiac stuff that required burying his nose in a book.

Ellis looked pained. “That’s temporary. Once I get into law school with you guys, he’ll see that I can be the right partner for him. I can be more than a personal trainer with a hot bod.”

“It’s a very hot bod though,” Becca said. “No shame there.”

Ellis smiled. “I want a hot brain too.”

“You’ve got one,” Jordan said, scowling. “You shouldn’t have to prove it to Clayton.”

He said the name like it was something disgusting on the bottom of his shoe.

Ellis shrugged. “Enough about me. Let’s see what we can do to save Austin’s store.”

“My firm specializes in business ad campaigns,” Tristan volunteered. “Maybe we could take you on pro bono, sponsor some sort of event that could make a splash.”

“That would be amazing,” I said, surprised. “Do you think your boss would go for it?”

“If not, I’ll just get Celeste and Levi to help me on the down-low. They’d be the ones doing the work anyway.”

His offer warmed me. Tristan was here for Zach, not because he was my friend, and he could have easily sat back in my spot on the sofa and offered nothing but condolences on my dying business. “Thanks, man. You earned that spot on the couch. I want you to keep it.”

“What?” he asked, puzzled.

Zach rolled his eyes. “Ignore him.”

“Seriously, though, thank you all. I don’t know what will happen once they open, but it’s good to know I’m not alone. This store isn’t just a job to me, you know? My great-uncle Charlie was the only reason I got through my teen years. My mom married a bigoted dickhead, and we couldn’t stand to be in the same room. Charlie opened his home to me, taught me his love of music, and entrusted his business to me when he died. I don’t want to let him down.”

“You could never let him down,” Becca said.

“Yeah, he didn’t leave it to you because you’re a great businessman,” Jordan added.

“Thanks,” I said wryly.

“No, I’m just saying, he left it to you because you love it as much as he did,” he said. “No matter what happens, I think he’d be proud of what you’ve done with it.”

“I hope so,” I said.

But what I really hoped was that I could carry on his lifelong legacy for more than five measly years.