Page 1 of Four Letter Feelings

Chapter 1

“Do you mind if I sit here?”

A weary voice disrupted his thoughts. Jeremy slowly pulled his gaze from his phone and gave a quick glance around before settling on the owner of the voice. The game hadn’t started yet, and while Huntsville Alabama wasn’t exactly the hockey capital of the universe, Jeremy was surprised at just how many people had crammed themselves into Buffalo Wild Wings for a Thursday night this early in the sporting season.

There must be another game on tonight, there’s no way everyone is here for hockey – even if it is the season opener!

“Sure,” he answered, gesturing a dismissive hand toward the empty seat facing him. “Go ahead.”

Turning his attention back to Tinder, Jeremy’s stomach grumbled loudly and he wondered just how long he was going to have to wait for his food to appear.

“Thanks, man.” The stranger sounded grateful as he pulled the stool back and sat down, placing his table number next to Jeremy’s. He let out an exhausted sigh. “It’s the only empty seat in the house; must be a baseball game on or something.”

“Season finished last week,” Jeremy replied, not lifting his eyes from his screen. “Basketball, probably.”

“Lil early, no? It’s only the 5th.”

“Pre-season.”

“Ah, my bad. Still a big crowd though, maybe I missed a Freshers’ memo,” he mused as he scanned the busy restaurant.

Jeremy shrugged and hoped that was the end of the polite chit-chat. He was here to eat chicken, wash it down with a few beers while watching the game, and that was it. He’d caught a glimpse of a few beautiful women congregating at the bar, though, and the stirring in his pants reminded him it had been way too long since he got laid.

Like two weeks too long.

The unsolicited guest fell silent and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

Excellent.

Jeremy’s food arrived just as the anthems finished. The teams were settling in for the opening face-off and he realized that his table buddy was there for the hockey game as well. There were TV screens of varying sizes dotted around and there was a different sport showing on each. The guy sitting across from him had angled his chair so he could better see the large screen Jeremy was settled in to watch too. Jeremy smiled to himself as he wondered whether the stranger, who was also wearing his ball-cap on back to front, was cheering for Jeremy’s beloved Toronto Maple Leafs, or the Buffalo Sabres. As the server placed the baskets of steaming food on the table in front of him, he noted the visitor’s eyebrows rise in surprise, probably at the sheer volume of food Jeremy had ordered.

“That’s a lot of chicken,” he commented, with a smile and a disbelieving shake of his head before returning his attention to the game which had finally started.

“I have no shame, man. I’m famished, feel free to help yourself until your food arrives, though,” he offered, with a tilt of his chin toward the table. He found he had to almost shout to be heard over the busy bustle of the sports bar.

What the fuck? Why would you even offer that? You hate sharing your food at the best of times, never mind with a complete stranger!

Stunned at his own offer, Jeremy watched as the stranger cocked his head with a knowing smirk and he wondered if his face was betraying his horror at having made such a crazy offer.

“It’s ok, thanks. I’ll wait.”

“Nah, for real, go ahead. There’s obviously plenty for both of us,” he insisted, feeling a flush creep up his spine. “I mean it.” He was trying to sound genuine but from the look of uncertainty on the visitor’s face, Jeremy was pretty sure he was quickly regretting having sat next to the weirdo with too much chicken. He momentarily wondered if he was giving off ‘murderous don’t-touch-my-chicken vibes.’

“AJ,” the stranger smiled and reached his hand across the baskets of food scattered across the table between them.

Jeremy eyed the outstretched hand with curiosity.

“Well, I kinda figure if I’m gonna eat another man’s chicken wings, I should probably introduce myself first, y’know?” AJ gave Jeremy a lopsided grin.

“Oh! Right, yeah. Don’t take another man’s meat if you aren’t on first name terms – that’s a good rule of thumb, or… eh, wing I guess,” he nodded towards the food with an exaggerated wink as he closed his hand around AJ’s and shook. “Jeremy,” he paused. “Jeremy Lewis.”

“Ah the adventurer has returned!” AJ announced, as he let go of Jeremy’s hand and proceeded to help himself to a chicken wing.

“Uhm… what?” Jeremy paused; chicken wing in hand.

“The hockey team met with the coach a couple days ago, he said our golden boy, ‘hotshot’ hadn’t yet returned from a year abroad and would be a little late to the party.”

As he spoke, Jeremy could have sworn he picked up a slight Canadian lilt to the man’s accent, but considering how bad he was at placing accents, he could as easily have been from Minnesota. He dismissed the thought as a desperate pang of homesickness making him hear things he wanted to hear rather than what was actually said.

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