Page 6 of Mating of Convenience
I didn’t respond to that, because honestly? Aaron was a great friend, but it was still difficult to think about my ‘best friend’ and not having an image of Raphael at the forefront of my mind. In spite of the promises we’d made each other that we’d always stay friends no matter what happened between us romantically, Raph and I hadn’t kept in contact after the break-up. Truth be told, I missed his friendship more than I missed the sex.
Raph and I had been friends for so long it was weird not to have him around. We used to hang out almost every day after school as teens, we went to the same college, and when he finally kissed me just a month before we graduated I figured we would be together forever. I’d spent so many years orbiting around him like a satellite that when I finally landed I wanted nothing more than to stick a flag in him and claim him for myself forever.
And now that he’d left me I couldn’t help but feel a bit lost in space. More so than I would ever admit to Aaron, who was slowly starting to realize that he wasn’t getting a response from me.
“Change of topic?” he asked, finally relenting as we reached Main Street.
“Please,” I said.
“Okay.” Aaron looked around. “I wonder how long that store over there is going to be empty.” He pointed at a storefront across the street. The property between the hair salon to the left and the ice cream parlor to the right had gone up for sale about a month ago.
“I keep forgetting what was in there,” I admitted, breathing in the summer air as a warm breeze whipped through my hair, carrying with it the smell of coffee. Ever since I’d worked at a coffee shop during my time at college, I could detect that heavenly aroma from a mile away. Someone was enjoying a cappuccino from the ice cream place.
Mm, coffee...
I should have coffee later.
“I think it was a shoe store,” Aaron mused. “Old lady Fredrickson ran it, remember? I saw her throw shoes after some guys being idiots once or twice. On second thought, maybe that’s why they closed.”
I nodded, even though I wasn’t really paying attention to what my friend was telling me.
My eyes were fixed on the empty store front. It was almost as if the smell of coffee was enough to wake me up and inspire me. I stopped seeing the store for what it was and instead started imagining what itcouldbe with only a few changes.
Not that I had the spare change to rent the place, much less buy it. How would I, when I only ever worked odd jobs? Aside from walking dogs, my main source of income was substituting for science teachers at the local high school and the pay was less than great.
Once upon a time I’d had ambitions to become a veterinarian, but I could never really get over my fear of needles. The half-done tattoo on my leg was a testament to that.
“Nate?” Aaron asked. “You daydreaming again?”
“Nah, I’m totally focused.”
Tearing my gaze away from the empty storefront, I walked on. Aaron was right. I was a bit of a dreamer, but the dogs needed exercise and this wasn’t the time to be dreaming. Especially considering that ever since Raphael had come back to town I was seeing the same stupid thing every time I closed my eyes.
A dream that I knew could never come true.
4
Raphael
The first couple of days, I thought Conner was doing me a favor by giving me something I could do while staying in Oceanport. He’d said I would be perfect for the job. I wasn’t so sure about that—I had zero experience with trauma survivors after all—but I took him up on the offer anyway, because honestly, I was grasping at straws and I didn’t want to appear ungrateful.
Only one week into working atSecond Chances, though, I realized I was the one doing Conner a favor.
Simply said, we were understaffed. Especially considering this wasn’t a job you could half-ass if you cared at all about people. After all the stories I’d heard in just the few days I’d been here, I felt I was going to need therapy myself.
Not that there was any time for shit like that.
It was nearing 4pm and I hadn’t even had a lunch break yet. When was I going to squeeze therapy in?
Maybe when I was done filling out all the paperwork for the funding we needed to receive from the government, I could grab a couple of donuts on the way to my dad’s house. I wasn’t staying there, but I still checked in at least once a day. Someone had to.
Sighing, I glanced at the stack of papers next to my keyboard.
Better get on with it, even if this was so not the kind of work I wanted to be doing.
The job wasn’t all bad, though. I mean, at least I had cool colleagues. After I’d pushed papers for another ten minutes or so, Conner walked into the office with a large brown paper bag in his hands.
“I brought sandwiches,” he announced. “You probably haven’t eaten yet either, have you?”
