Page 18 of Out of the Storm

Once Jeff’s car was far from view, Gary wrapped his arms around himself to stave off the cold. Then he turned and headed back into his house. The moment the heat from inside hit him, he barely suppressed a shudder, little bumps pebbling over his skin from the temperature change. It was nice to be back inside, out of the late-winter chill.

He knelt to take off his shoes, and when he noticed Jeff’s coat still hanging on the coat rack, the sight of the bright blue-and-black nylon fabric had Gary’s heart pitter-pattering in his chest. Funny that Jeff would forget something like that. Especially since it was only forty-two degrees outside.

Chapter Four

Jeff

While Jeff spritzed the food court tabletop with cleaning solution, his eyes wandered to the clock on the wall, and he heaved a sigh. Fuck. He’d been checking the clock every fifteen minutes since the start of his shift Sunday morning, not to see how much time was left before he could leave, but to see how much time was left for Gary to come return his coat.

Whyhad he thought that leaving it behind would mean Gary would try to find him? What a ridiculous plan that had been. Rather than showing up at the mall, Gary’d probably either keep the coat or bring it to Jeff’s house, which would mean he’d simply stuff it inside the mailbox once he saw that Jeff wasn’t even home. Despite the fact that Jeffknewhis plan was stupid, he still couldn’t stop imagining Gary strolling into the mall, coat in hand, saying something like “Heya, Jeff. I couldn’t stand the thought of you facing the frigid Ohio winter without your trusty coat, so I wanted to return it to you as soon as humanly possible” in that beautiful voice of his.

What a stupid thought that was. Jeff needed to figure out a way to stop this pointless crush. Maybe once he was back home, he’d set his clock radio on fire.

Over the next few hours, Jeff’s thoughts kept circling back to Gary—to his corny humor, cute glasses, and the fact that he had served potato salad in those weird clown bowls—and each time,he kind of wanted to punch himself in the face for fixating on him so much.

By the time Jeff completed his shift, his thigh muscles were throbbing from having been on his feet for nearly eight hours straight. He left for home, trudging out to his car and then sighing with relief the moment he sat down in the driver’s seat. For the entirety of the ten-minute ride home, he continued to chastise himself for purposefully leaving his coat behind. Why the hell had he pulled such a pointless stunt? Nothing could ever happen with Gary. Nothing! Evenif, somehow, by some miracle, Gary liked men, and even if, by some other miracle, Gary somehow started to likehim. Nothing could happen. Not a kiss. Not a one-night stand. Nothing.

So why couldn’t he stop thinking about the beautiful man from the radio?

Turning the corner onto his street, Jeff automatically glanced ahead to find his house, and when he spotted Gary sitting on his stoop, his heart started thundering in his chest, elation mixing with nervousness mixing with a sense ofholy fuck, the plan had somehow worked. Flashing the silliest, most adorable smile Jeff had probably ever seen, Gary stood, holding up Jeff’s coat like some kind of trophy. Jesus.

After pulling the car into the driveway, Jeff cut the engine and took a breath, telling himself to play it cool.

Swinging open the door, he said, “Hey, Gare.”

“Heya, Jeff,” Gary replied before shaking the coat. “You left this behind.”

“Hadn’t realized,” Jeff said, though he was already fighting the urge to cover his bare forearms to shield himself from the wind. Ugh. Ohio. When he started to shiver from the cold, he shoved his hands into his pockets to try to hide it. “Nice of you to bring it, though.”

“Oh, it wasn’t a problem. I needed the exercise. I think I might try to be a model for one of those muscle magazines someday.”

Even though Jeff knew that Gary was only being silly, that comment had the irritating consequence of making Jeff wonder what Gary’s body looked like under that ill-fitting olive-colored parka of his. Clearly he was no body builder, but Gary had looked fuckingfinein the sweater he’d been wearing yesterday. Jeff bit his bottom lip as the memory of Gary leaning over him to fetch the tape recorder flitted into his mind. He’d smelled so nice, like citrus and sweat and—

Gary thrust out his hand that was holding the coat, and the sudden movement pulled Jeff out of his head before some raunchy fantasy could begin to form.

“Here.”

“Thanks.” Jeff took the coat and threw it over his shoulder, even though his body was screaming at him to put it on, especially when a cold breeze blew past. “Do you, uh, want to come in? I have...” He paused, racking his brain for ideas. “...coffee.”

“Yeah?” Gary asked before shaking his body in a comical manner and saying, “Anything to warm up.”

Jeff was about to make some snarky retort, but then he realized his teeth were threatening to chatter, so instead, he turned and hurried inside. Once they were in the mud room, the warmth from his house made him shudder.

Gary chuckled. “Wow, you weren’t cold out there at all, huh?”

“It’s the temperature change.”

“Uh-huh.”

Pursing his lips slightly to keep himself from smiling too much in return, Jeff started toward the kitchen, kicking off his shoes on the way. Gary followed in short order.

“Hey, wait, how about a tour?” Gary asked, coming up behind him.

And Jeff fought back a wince. Honestly, the thought of Gary scrutinizing his home made him feel slightly nauseated. Even though he’d been renting it for years, he hadn’t really decorated or done any renovations or repairs to make the place look like a respectable home for a twenty-something-year-old man.

“Uh, sure,” he said reluctantly, because how big of an asshole would he have been to say no?

Jeff took Gary through the living room, trying not to cringe as he imagined what Gary must think of the horrible fake-wood paneling, and then showed Gary to the bedroom. Thankfully, he had remembered to clean up most of his clothes, save for a pair of briefs left on the floor (fuck), and the room was otherwise unremarkable, littered with records and tapes and a pitiful number of books. And of course there was more hideous wood paneling on the walls. Dammit.

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