Chapter 5

Wash972:

Go to the mattresses!

ShopGuy24:

What? I’m not that kind of boy. I barely know you.

Wash972:

No haha. Go to the mattresses is a quote from The Godfather. It means to fight your enemies!

“Fight your enemies.”I grinned down at my phone. “I like that.”

“Talking to yourself again?” Briar asked from the kitchenette. She was going through the cabinets, but the record-washing fluid had already been changed.

I pocketed my phone. “What are you looking for?”

Briar leaned out of the break room, a guilty expression on her face. “Nothing. Just…organizing.”

I raised an eyebrow. “We’re out of Rice Krispies Treats.”

“I wasn’t looking!”

“Briar,” I said, exasperated, “you can tell me when you’re hungry. I remember being a teen. I was like a black hole.”

“It’s not that. I just kinda…” Briar ducked her head and mumbled.

“You what?” I asked.

“I missed dinner last night, and I didn’t eat breakfast.”

“Do I need to be worried?”

“No,” she said defensively. “I’m fine. Mom and I aren’t seeing eye to eye right now, so I stuck to my room.”

“Is this about you coming out again?” I asked, wondering if I needed to step in. Briar hadn’t had the easiest time at home. Her dad was trying to accept her sexuality, but her mom was having a harder time with it.

“No, we just argued over my stupid curfew.”

Ah, normal teen stuff. That was a relief.

“All right.” I rounded the counter. “I’ll swing by the coffee shop around the corner. Breakfast sandwich?”

“You’re the best boss ever!”

“Yeah, yeah.” I grabbed my jacket off the hook by the door. “There better be fifteen records in the drying rack when I get back!”

I stepped out into a bitterly cold wind. Damn. Spring couldn’t come soon enough. I tugged my green bomber jacket a little tighter around me and hurried down the sidewalk.

There were a handful of coffee shops within walking distance—ranging from bougie to artsy—but the closest one had a mellower vibe I preferred. I popped into Muddy Waters, which was little more than an ordering counter and one cozy seating area.

There was no line, so I stepped up to order myself a coffee and Briar a breakfast sandwich. I hesitated, then threw in a cinnamon muffin because I suspected she could use a treat. It wouldn’t be as good as the giant chocolate muffins at Roasted, where Zach worked, but it would give a nice sugar boost.

“I guess you missed breakfast this morning too, huh?”

I turned to see Chase fucking Fox lift a coffee cup in salute. He sat alone on the purple park bench that had been repurposed for the shop along with a few mismatched chairs, his phone resting on one knee.

I sighed and tipped my head back, getting a good look at the water stain in the shape of a baseball bat on the ceiling. “This neighborhood is going to shit.”

Chase laughed. “Ouch. Is it me or the cock-shaped stain on the ceiling making you say that?”

“That’s not…” I frowned as his words changed the shape I was seeing, and I lowered my head to scowl at him. “Aren’t they one and the same?”

“Oh! He’s got jokes!”

I turned back to the front counter where Rosita was putting the finishing touches on my drink. “Who says it’s a joke?”

Chase clearly didn’t know when to leave well enough alone. He stood and approached me.

“Thanks, Rosita,” I said, lifting the cup to take a sip and humming in appreciation. “You serve the best coffee, but don’t tell Zach.”

Rosita chuckled and swatted my arm. “Oh, you charmer! I’m sure you say that to all the baristas.”

“Nope.” I winked, doing my best to ignore the fact Chase was hovering by my side. “Only you.”

Chase followed me out of the shop, apparently determined to dog my steps. “So, who’s Zach?”

I took another gulp of my coffee in the hopes caffeine would temper my homicidal tendencies.

“He’s obviously someone you know well enough you’ve taken him to Muddy Waters to meet Rosita,” Chase mused. “Maybe a brother?”

I didn’t answer.

“You’re too young to have a kid, surely.”

I slanted him a look against my better judgment. Chase tapped a finger to his lips. “Gotta be a boyfriend, right?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” I gritted out, though it was none of his business.

He perked up. “Ex-boyfriend?”

“No, no boyfriends. As in, I don’t—” I caught myself and gave him a flat look. “Why are we talking about my personal life?”

He shrugged. “Just trying to get to know my neighbor. Isn’t it what people do?”

“Maybe when the new neighbor isn’t a corporate asshole about to undercut hard-working indies.”

“Indies, plural? Or just you?” he asked, cutting right to the heart of the matter.

I picked up my pace, but the fucker had long legs, and he kept up just fine. It wasn’t until we reached my shop that I realized I hadn’t noticed the cold weather once during the walk back.

“Maybe it is just me,” I said before opening the door to my store. “I don’t know all your inventory. Maybe you’ll add a coffee shop and do poor Rosita in too.”

“Don’t worry, Austin.” Chase followed me inside. “Rosita is safe from the likes of me. I’m just a guy trying to keep the family business going.”

I scoffed. “Sure. The family business being a big regional chain. I’m sure you’re all suffering.”

“You really have no idea,” he muttered, giving me a second’s pause.

I dismissed the flicker of doubt. The man was opening a massive store with ten times the amount of inventory I was selling in my little shop. No way he could be doing that badly.

Briar placed a record in the drying rack to drip dry then turned to me with grabby hands. “Oh my god, that smells so good. I thought you’d never get back!”

I crossed the floor and handed off the breakfast bag. “Try not to skip meals just to avoid your mom, okay? It’s not healthy.”

Briar nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. You can take this out of my pay.”

“Nah, kid. You’ve earned a breakfast sandwich. It’s no big deal.”

Briar beamed. “You’re the best! Okay if I take a break to eat this?”

I nodded. “Sure. Chase is just here to spy some more, so don’t worry about him.”

“Hey, I’m not spying,” Chase protested. “I’m just trying to make new friends. It’s lonely being a corporate asshole.”

Briar choked on a bite of sandwich, and I fought a twitch of my lips.

“Tell you what, Chase. Since you want to make friends, how about you give me a sneak peek at your monstrosity of a store?”

“Well, I could, but then I’d have to kill you.” Chase smiled sweetly. “And you’re just too pretty to kill, Austin.”

Briar’s eyes rounded as Chase went out the door, and I gaped after him like a fish out of water.

“Oooh,” she crowed. “The corporate asshole is flirting with you.”

I scoffed. “More like fucking with me. He knows I’m straight.”

“That probably makes it more fun,” Briar mused.

I rounded the counter and sat my ass down at my desk to pull up payroll. “Get busy eating instead of talking or I’m going to steal your cinnamon muffin.”

Briar squeaked. “I’m eating, I’m eating!”

I smiled to myself, but I couldn’t escape the heat creeping up the back of my neck. It wasn’t embarrassment that he was trying to flirt, but irritation.

Even if I went for guys, I’d never go for a man about to put me out of business—and Chase had to know that. The fucker was playing mind games with me, and I didn’t appreciate it.

I pulled out my phone and re-read my last text exchange with Wash972.

It was time to go to the mattresses.