back. Collin, after all his years waiting tables, started filling in the blanks. He liked making up stories about customers, just like he enjoyed taking cars apart and putting them together like big, greasy, irritating puzzles. Customers were unpredictable; cars were, for the most part, totally and completely rational, and together, they made an enjoyable living for a guy who hadn't thought he'd be around this long.
“So, how did you meet Jeff?” Lucas was asking, and Kimmy smiled a little bitterly.
“If I told you I didn't remember, would you believe me?” she asked, and Mikhail and Crick both snorted into their coffee.
“I'd believe you didn't remember a fucking thing about that day, cow-woman,” Mikhail said acidly. “Or I would if you hadn't been coming onto the poor man like a heifer in season.”
Kimmy grimaced. “It wasn't my fault,” she said, blushing, and then she looked up at Lucas and blushed some more. “Oh God. Trust me. You don't want to know that story. Let's stick to you, young'un. How long are you out here for?”
But Lucas wasn't going to be dissuaded that easily. “I'm not that young,” he said quickly, and Kimmy raised her eyebrows.
“Twenty… four? Five?”
“Seven,” Lucas supplied. “And you are… twenty-nine?”
“Thirty-two,” Kim told him, looking a little miffed. She'd been hoping he'd be younger, Collin thought shrewdly, refilling her coffee and trying to be invisible. It was like his own little stage play, and he got to be an extra that nobody knew about. Unfortunately, the damned lead player wasn't doing anything to keep his attention!
“You didn't answer the question,” supporting-player-Kimmy said now. “How long are you out for?”
Supporting-player-Lucas shrugged his impressive shoulders under his denim jacket and T-shirt, and Collin thought wistfully that it was a shame the guy was obviously straight. Not that he'd be interested now , not with Jeff at the next table, but once upon a time, he might have liked to hit that.
Lucas sighed. “Well, as long as I want to, I guess. I was living with my folks when Martin's folks called up and told me that Martin had run away. I can hang here as long as it's friendly and as long as he needs me.”
Kimmy's aloof expression thawed, probably against her will, Collin was willing to wager. “That's nice. My brother and I are opening a shelter for runaways—not every kid on the planet has someone who will look out for him, you know?”
Collin had heard of the place—Promise House. A house on a vacant property had already been renovated over the summer, and the eyesore acreage cleared and made livable. It had four spots open, four filled, a couple of employees, and Kimmy and her brother were close to being credentialed in counseling to make the place work completely. Collin had no idea where the little diva with the curly hair fit into this plan, but he thought that maybe it would be “moral support” for Kimmy's brother.
Hey, that guy could have supported Collin through high school, and Collin would have had no complaints.
But once again, that guy was not Jeff.
And Jeff was, finally, opening his mouth to take center stage.
“Uhm, Martin?”
“Mmmphh?” Omigod! Was that kid still eating?
“I understand….” His voice was shaking. Jeff took a deep breath to steady it and a naked sort of pain crossed his face. Collin realized his own hands were shaking. This man had been his hero for five years and his stalker-crush for one of them, and Collin had never realized how much pain he'd been in, not even a little. “I understand you have a letter for me?”
Martin sent him a look of deadly hostility and then grunted. Reluctantly he stuck his hand into the pocket of his sweatshirt and pulled out an envelope that looked dusty and old.
Jeff nodded as though this weren't the most important thing in the world and reached out to take the paper.
The kid's hand clenched on it, and the look he sent Jeff was decidedly unfriendly. “My
“So, how did you meet Jeff?” Lucas was asking, and Kimmy smiled a little bitterly.
“If I told you I didn't remember, would you believe me?” she asked, and Mikhail and Crick both snorted into their coffee.
“I'd believe you didn't remember a fucking thing about that day, cow-woman,” Mikhail said acidly. “Or I would if you hadn't been coming onto the poor man like a heifer in season.”
Kimmy grimaced. “It wasn't my fault,” she said, blushing, and then she looked up at Lucas and blushed some more. “Oh God. Trust me. You don't want to know that story. Let's stick to you, young'un. How long are you out here for?”
But Lucas wasn't going to be dissuaded that easily. “I'm not that young,” he said quickly, and Kimmy raised her eyebrows.
“Twenty… four? Five?”
“Seven,” Lucas supplied. “And you are… twenty-nine?”
“Thirty-two,” Kim told him, looking a little miffed. She'd been hoping he'd be younger, Collin thought shrewdly, refilling her coffee and trying to be invisible. It was like his own little stage play, and he got to be an extra that nobody knew about. Unfortunately, the damned lead player wasn't doing anything to keep his attention!
“You didn't answer the question,” supporting-player-Kimmy said now. “How long are you out for?”
Supporting-player-Lucas shrugged his impressive shoulders under his denim jacket and T-shirt, and Collin thought wistfully that it was a shame the guy was obviously straight. Not that he'd be interested now , not with Jeff at the next table, but once upon a time, he might have liked to hit that.
Lucas sighed. “Well, as long as I want to, I guess. I was living with my folks when Martin's folks called up and told me that Martin had run away. I can hang here as long as it's friendly and as long as he needs me.”
Kimmy's aloof expression thawed, probably against her will, Collin was willing to wager. “That's nice. My brother and I are opening a shelter for runaways—not every kid on the planet has someone who will look out for him, you know?”
Collin had heard of the place—Promise House. A house on a vacant property had already been renovated over the summer, and the eyesore acreage cleared and made livable. It had four spots open, four filled, a couple of employees, and Kimmy and her brother were close to being credentialed in counseling to make the place work completely. Collin had no idea where the little diva with the curly hair fit into this plan, but he thought that maybe it would be “moral support” for Kimmy's brother.
Hey, that guy could have supported Collin through high school, and Collin would have had no complaints.
But once again, that guy was not Jeff.
And Jeff was, finally, opening his mouth to take center stage.
“Uhm, Martin?”
“Mmmphh?” Omigod! Was that kid still eating?
“I understand….” His voice was shaking. Jeff took a deep breath to steady it and a naked sort of pain crossed his face. Collin realized his own hands were shaking. This man had been his hero for five years and his stalker-crush for one of them, and Collin had never realized how much pain he'd been in, not even a little. “I understand you have a letter for me?”
Martin sent him a look of deadly hostility and then grunted. Reluctantly he stuck his hand into the pocket of his sweatshirt and pulled out an envelope that looked dusty and old.
Jeff nodded as though this weren't the most important thing in the world and reached out to take the paper.
The kid's hand clenched on it, and the look he sent Jeff was decidedly unfriendly. “My
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