Page 11 of Reaching Roland

A slow smile spread across his handsome face. “What time should I pick you up?”

Chapter Five

KENNY

“This is no big deal. You're a big boy, Kenny. You’ve been hanging out with platonic friends your whole life.” Unlike talking to myself. That was a relatively new addition. Maybe I needed to buy myself a goldfish. They didn’t have to be walked, I didn’t need to change their litter, and I’d have something to address my never-ending commentary to, so I wouldn’t feel so silly. But that wasn’t what was important here. Unwrapping aBlow Pop, I sucked it into my mouth and settled it into the side of my cheek. There, that was better.

Roland would be here any moment, so I took one last look at myself in the full-length mirror on the back of my bedroom door. I didn't know why I was bothering because this wasnota date. He’d offered to take me to the Strawberry Festival, and why shouldn't we go together? He declared it himself at the tavern. We were friends. Sure, new friends, but friends all the same, and friends—buddies, pals, comrades—they did stuff together. It didn't matter that until a few days ago, Roland was simply my client, the beautiful silver fox who occupied my chair every Thursday night, because now we were officially friends. Twomen, surrounded by couples, who needed someone to hang out with. Bros. I snickered to myself at the idea of anyone calling Roland bro, or even better, bruh. I laughed harder. Now I was just being ridiculous.

The sound of a car out in the driveway pulled my attention. Roland was here. One last quick peek in the mirror ensured that my green shorts, with my short-sleeve red button-down with black polka dots, were the perfect attire for our adventure today. Not wanting to wait for him to come up and knock—which would feel too much like a date—I sprinted to the table by the front door, shoved my wallet in my back pocket, and grabbed my sunglasses, keys, cell phone, and a couple ofBlow Pops. Check. Check. Check. And check. I was good to go. I walked out of my garage apartment and hightailed it down the steps, seeing Roland messing with the gate that led onto the path toward my stairs. “Don't worry,” I called. “There's a trick to getting it undone.”

Roland stepped back and planted his hands on his hips. “You should be able to lift the latch easier than this.”

I waved him off. “I know, but it's stuck or something. I tried WD-forty, but that didn't work.”

He shook his head, still staring down at the latch for the gate. “No, it feels like something broke off in there.”

Laughing, I fiddled with the handle and popped it down right when I heard the click, and it swung open easily. “See, you just have to know how to do it.”

Roland stepped back, his eyes finally focusing on me. “Well, look at you, Kenny. You look kind of like a strawberry yourself.”

Good enough to eat, I wanted to ask, then shook off that silly notion. This wasn't a date. We were two guys hanging out and going to pick some fruit. No big deal. How many times was I going to have to remind myself?

Roland frowned, then pointed down at my feet. “What are those?”

Following the direction of his finger, I looked down at my red cowboy boots. I'd purchased them for a Halloween costume a few years ago when I went as a rancher, but I hadn't had very many opportunities to wear them since. Smiling up at Roland, I said, “Aren't they great? I figured since we were going to a farm, they were perfect. Plus, they match my outfit.” I gestured from the top of my head down to my toes.Oh. I opened my red-framed glasses with the black arms and plopped them on my face. “See?”

He chuckled. I'd hoped that he'd get a kick out of them when I found them on Amazon Thursday night and had them rush delivered. “You really are perfectly attired for strawberry picking, except…” He trailed off, then stared pointedly at my boots. “Have you worn those enough for them to be comfortable?”

Actually, I hadn't. They were barely broken in, but sometimes you paid a price for beauty. Making a so-so gesture with my hand, I said, “They'll be fine.”

Roland’s large hands made their way back to his hips. “Let me ask you another way. Are you wearing those for comfort or for fashion?”

“Well…” I shrugged sheepishly since he’d obviously figured me out.

He made a spinning gesture with his finger. “I want you to have a good time today, which you won't do if your feet are screaming at you. Go on back upstairs and put on some shoes that won't hurt your feet. You already look cute as a button, so wearing comfortable shoes isn't going to ruin your motif.”

Cute as a button?Not a date. Not a date. Not a date, I repeated to my hammering heart. Trying to distract myself, I went with teasing Roland. “But, Daddy,” I whined around the strawberry candy in my mouth.

The skin around his eyes crinkled in that way I adored. Seeing it now, I internally patted myself on the back. “You and that Daddy talk. I'm really going to have to give you a nickname of your own.” He huffed out a laugh. “Now go change, Kenny.”

“Fine.” With a stomp of my booted foot, I ran back up the stairs and put on my most comfortable sneakers. Lucky for me, they were black with red stripes, so they didn't totally kill my vibe.

When I made it back outside, he smiled with approval. “That's much better. Thank you.”

My insides warmed, knowing I made him happy. But that was no big deal, right? I felt that way with Austin or Michaela when they complimented my work, so it was no biggie. “You're welcome, Daddy,” I teased.

Shaking his head, Roland guided me toward his car. “Let's get going.” He went to the passenger side first and opened the door, gesturing with a swooping motion for me to get in.

“Aren't you a gentleman,” I said, sliding in past him and clicking in my seatbelt as he shut the door.

He came around to the other side and smiled over at me. “I'm so happy you mentioned this. We used to do things like this when Cameron was younger, but I haven't thought about it for years.”

It made me sad to think of him shutting himself away and limiting his activity. Roland was too full of life to be living so small. “There are so many awesome things to do here in the summer, especially if you head down to the shore. You should check out the local activity listings and get out more.”

Roland started the car. “Maybe you’re right. How about you tell me every time you find something interesting. That way, you don't have to go alone, and I’ll actually take advantage of some of the things offered.”

In theory, it sounded like a great idea, but I wasn't going to get my hopes up. Chances were, Roland and I would spend the day together, and then he’d go back to doing whatever it was he did. I couldn't picture him actually finding me that entertaining, plus he'd probably decide I was too immature. Take the boots, for instance. There hadn't been a time yet where I sacrificed fashion for comfort, but I already knew that my feet were going to be very happy with me at the end of the day. Hell, every time Roland came into the salon and teased me about my footwear, I wondered if I was doing myself a disservice. I remembered back to ten years ago when Michaela still wore high heels to the shop. Those days were long gone. She still wore fashionable footwear while coloring hair in the salon, but very rarely was there a heel in sight.

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