Page 1 of Bull's Boy

CHAPTER ONE

“It just sucks. I haven’t been on a date in… fuck, I don’t even know how long. And it’s not like I can help how I look, you know.”

Bull paused, a dirty plate in his hand. He wondered if the two people talking realized he was there. The restaurant’s dining room had a wall that jutted out several feet to separate the space into two areas, and Bull was standing right behind it, clearing a table. The only other people in the front were two servers sitting at a table and finishing rolling silverware for the next day.

He recognized the voice of the man who’d spoken, and it confused the hell out of him. There wasn’t anything wrong with the way Malcolm looked. Hell, Bull had rubbed one out more than once, thinking about the younger guy. Imagining Malcolm’s lean body covered in hickeys and spunk had gotten him off more often than he’d care to admit.

“There’s nothing wrong with the way you look!” Dahlia exclaimed, sounding shocked. “You’re adorable.”

Bull agreed wholeheartedly. Malcolm was exactly his type, but there was one little problem…

“Women who are actually into men don’t agree with you,” Malcolm said, a forced chuckle making Bull frown harder.

As much as he was attracted to Malcolm, the guy had only ever expressed interest in women in the six months they’d worked together at Bo’s Bar & Grill. Not that they were close or anything. Bull helped clear tables or run the pass when he wasn’t in the office, and he didn’t say much. Malcolm was a server who’d made friends with the other waitstaff immediately, rarely giving Bull more than an absentminded smile when he noticed him. Bull would be surprised if Malcolm even knew his real name.

Of course, that hadn’t stopped him from wishing things were different or, at the very least, that he could cut out the part of him that couldn’t help but watch the way Malcolm moved around the dining room. The grace in his every step hypnotized him in a moment if he wasn’t careful.

“The last few women I went out with all ended the dates just wanting to be friends,” Malcolm said with a sigh. “One flat-out said she wasn’t into short guys.”

“Why’d she even say yes, then?”

Dahlia sounded outraged, and Bull couldn’t help but smile a little as he gently set the plate he was holding into the tub in front of him. She was a real firecracker when people she cared about got hurt. Her girlfriend, Becca, complained about how protective Dahlia was almost every time she came in for a drink when Bull was working the bar. But she always said it with a smile, so he was pretty sure she didn’t actually mind.

“Screw her. There are women out there who aren’t so shallow and care more about a man’s personality than if he’s over six foot or has a six-pack.”

Malcolm laughed. “Where are all these women? I swear I’d gotten over being self-conscious about my height until I started using dating apps, and then it was like I was back in high school, getting bullied by all the jocks.”

“Ugh. Fuck them. You’re not even that short anyway!”

“That means nothing from you, shrimp.”

Bull bit his lip to stop from snorting out a laugh. The woman couldn’t have been more than five feet tall on her best days. Bull felt like… well, his namesake whenever he stood next to her.

Dahlia gasped dramatically. “Rude!”

“Sorry,” Malcolm said, laughing. “But still. Everyone looks tall to you. But I’m only five five, and apparently, that’s a dealbreaker for a lot of women. Even the ones shorter than me seem unimpressed when they meet me in person.”

Bull was with Dahlia—Malcolm needed to find some less-shallow women. When one of them stood, he hurried to clear the rest of the table, not wanting to get caught eavesdropping on a conversation he was sure wouldn’t have happened if they’d known he was there.

“Becca’s friend?—”

“No, Lia. No setups.”

She huffed, and silverware clinked like she’d thrown a rolled-up set in with the rest. “Fine. What brought this on though? Did something happen?”

“Not really. I just realized that I have Tuesday off and no one to do anything with.”

“Oh. Right.”

Bull frowned as he lifted his full tub of dirty dishes. What was so special about a Tuesday?

“Valentine’s Day is a made-up holiday anyway. It doesn’t really mean anything,” Dahlia said.

“Oh, so you and Becca aren’t going to celebrate?”

Bull nearly chuckled at the dry response. There was no way Dahlia wasn’t doing something with her girl. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if she popped the question one of these days. The two had been together for about eight months now, and according to his moms, that was like eight years for lesbians. He wasn’t sure he believed that, but he’d seen how perfect they were for each other.

Dahlia laughed. “Okay, fine, yes. But plenty of people don’t celebrate it.” She paused and then said in a softer tone, “It doesn’t have to mean anything that you don’t have a girlfriend.”

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