Page 1 of When Ben Loved Jace
ChapterOne
My heart is hungry. Which would be a simple fix if it craved frozen yoghurt or any of the twenty-five toppings spread out before me. Somehow I don’t think that’s going to cut it. Even my stomach isn’t interested. I’m cold enough as it is. Working an eight-hour shift at a place like this can be grueling, especially in the dead of winter. Not as many customers come through the door, and with the holidays almost here? Forget it. Sometimes I imagine being found behind the counter, sealed from head to toe in a block of ice. Even then there would be an ember in my chest, one last glimmer of heat, because my heart… It just won’t quit.
I’ve tried to ignore the need. Or to satiate it with a string of guys who fail to hold my interest for one reason or another. Too aloof. Too serious. Too married. Or maybe those are merely excuses I make, when in truth, none can compare. Not to the guy I willingly left behind. And so I stand here, trying to ignore intoxicating memories of a summer long-since past when the impossible had happened and I’d found someone who was able to stave off the cold. For a little while anyway. Once had been unlikely enough. Expecting to be so fortunate a second time is unrealistic. And greedy. I had my chance. I made my decision. Game over. Right?
The front doorbell chimes. I take a deep breath and look up, ready for another miracle. Then I exhale as an exhausted woman presses her back against the door to hold it open. She raises the shopping bags clutched in both hands high enough for three children to scurry underneath them, and it’s like a plague of locusts has been unleashed. The kids run around the store, shouting at each other while careening into everything before they regroup and descend on my counter to press smudgy fingers against the glass. I laugh, grateful for the distraction, because I’m not the sort of person who likes to wallow in self-pity. Okay, maybe just a little, on lonely nights when Allison is out on a date and I have the apartment to myself. But hey, everyone should stare out a window longingly on occasion. Nothing could be more human. No matter how much we have, humans always desire more. That same urge spurred us to spread across the planet and make the leap to the stars. We’re the best kind of crazy.
As the day progresses, my thoughts become less introspective.I put on some of my favorite music, letting it blast over the store speakers, and shake my rump while cleaning. Once I run out of tasks, I go into concert mode, hopping up on a table and singing to a rapt audience of empty chairs that are paralyzed by my stunning performance. I’m just about to blow them away with an encore when I notice a yellow car pull up. Or maybe it’s an SUV? I’m not sure, but the vehicle is small and compact despite being boxy and rugged. I’m still holding an empty waffle cone like a microphone while down on my knees, having ended the last song with a flourish. Now I feel a flush. I’ve got mere seconds to set things right before I humiliate myself, because Iknowthat car. And the driver.
Except I don’t really. He’s just another fantasy. I try not to give names to them anymore. I don’t need another Mr. Blue Shoes. But if Ididindulge in such things, I’d call him Rainbow Sprinkles, because that’s the only topping he ever requests. I scramble to set things right, dragging two chairs at a time and flinging them in various directions, often while hustling backward, like some sort of insane dance. Deciding that being caught in the throes of panic would be embarrassing enough, I dart behind the counter, hastily fix my hair, and smooth down my uniform. I’m ridiculously attentive when facing the door, like one of those cheesy employee training videos. My posture is rigid. Is the big smile too much? I don’t want to come across as desperate. Even though I am.
The setting sun catches golden hair as a tall man steps out of the vehicle. He’s older than me but still in his twenties, I’d wager. He only started coming here three months back as far as I know, and while he’s a regular, these visits are sporadic. I’ve tried figuring out his schedule without success. If there was a pattern, I’d arrange my shifts around them, because I could swear that he finds me attractive too. Of course I don’t have much to go on. Ringing up a cup of frozen yoghurt doesn’t provide much opportunity to bond, but each minute is precious to me because—
The passenger-side door opens. That’s unusual. Rainbow Sprinkles—er, I mean the valued customer—is normally alone. I’ve never seen him with anyone else. My full attention is on the newcomer as the car door shuts again, revealing him fully. My stomach sinks, because he’s hot. Brown hair, bronze skin, beefy muscles that are apparent even underneath the light winterjacket… If a hunky model was needed to advertise a line of outdoor gear, he’d be the ideal choice. He’s also a perfect match for the guy who I officially add to my never-gonna-happen list, because there’s no way my scrawny ass can compete.
I return my attention to Rainbow Sprinkles as the door chime dings and almost crumple to the floor in an inconsolable heap, because he’s wearing a uniform. Navy slacks and a matching blazer are paired with a white dress shirt. My eyes move up the striped maroon tie before darting over to a nametag shaped like wings. Lord help me… He’s a pilot!
My despair doubles as the mountain climber loops an arm around his companion, flatlining my dream. When the pilot shakes him off as if embarrassed, I sign a do-not-resuscitate order in my mind, because I donotdate closet cases. Once was enough.
“Welcome to Lucky Licks,” I say to them with little enthusiasm as they approach the counter. “What can I get you?”
The pilot flashes a smile that, until today, made me feel desired. He doesn’t tone it down in the presence of his boyfriend. I guess he’s like that with everyone. “Just my usual,” he says.
“You’ll have to remind me,” I reply, feigning ignorance.
His green eyes waver with uncertainty. Maybe I wounded his ego. Handsome people are probably used to getting the star treatment, no matter where they go.
“A cup of vanilla with rainbow sprinkles,” he murmurs.
I nod cordially before turning to his boyfriend. “And you?”
“Uh…” He’s staring up at the menu above my head, letting me take in his thick masculine features. Forget my disappointment. I’d pay a week’s wages to watch these guys get it on. What a hot couple! “Give me a double scoop of chocolate yoghurt with caramel, candied walnuts, marshmallows, and graham cracker crumbles.”
“Nothing else?” I ask, some humor returning to my voice. A guy like him must burn through a lot of calories.
“Oh, and some whipped cream too,” he says without a trace of irony.
“Coming right up!”
I can hear them whispering to each other as I work. I’m not sure why they are being so discreet. Most people are happy to chatter openly while awaiting their order. Maybe they’re talking about the steamy sex they have planned that night.
I’m going to dip my wet cock in rainbow sprinkles and make you lick them off. How’d you like that?
Oh yeah? Well I’m gonna spread my cheeks and give you some fresh hot fudge.
I snort, the two guys instantly going silent. I hope they aren’t psychic.
I place two paper cups on the counter. “Do you have your Lucky Licks loyalty card?”
“Yeah.” The pilot reaches for his wallet. I check out the winged badge on his chest while he’s distracted, my heart breaking even more, because Jason is one of my all-time favorite names. “Here you go,” he says, his eyes locking on mine as he presents the card.
I avert my gaze while adding stickers to his card. Previously I always gave him extra, often filling it up to capacity, so he’d be motivated to come back for the freebie and I could see him again. There’s no longer any point, so I add one for each cup, like I would for anyone else. He doesn’t seem to notice when I hand back the card. He’s still staring into my eyes, as if he wants to communicate something important. But when he opens his mouth, all he says is, “Thanks, Ben.”
Wait, he knows my name? He didn’t even check my nametag!
His boyfriend nudges him suddenly. “Dude! I’ve got the best idea. I had Chinese last night and was saving this for you.”
I watch in puzzlement as he takes a fortune cookie out of his jacket pocket and holds it up. “You guys don’t have these as a topping, do you?”
