Page 20 of Waiting on Life
“That was a total dick move. Are you always such an asshole to people who ask you a question that makes a lot of sense? You said you were looking forward to a day off, and now here you are. So when someone asks about it, you snap at them.”
He had the decency to blush. “Sorry.” He stood and went to the bar. “Scott, I’m sorry. I’m tired, but I had no business barking at you. Please forgive me.”
Though it was tremulous, the smile came back. “No problem. Did you want something?”
“A glass of orange juice, please.” He turned to me. “Kyle, you want something?”
“No, I have to get to—”
“He’ll have a bottle of water,” Toby answered with finality.
Scott put them up, and Toby carried them back to the table. He handed me the water, then took his seat again.
“I was going to get you a juice, but wasn’t sure if you liked it.”
There was no small amount of exasperation in my voice when I again asked, “Why are you here?”
He shrugged a big shoulder. “I thought I’d done something wrong, so wanted to check in with you.” He sighed. “I’m going to be the first to admit, I’m not much for social interactions. I tend to say or do something stupid, so after you left, I sat there trying to dissect what had caused you to leave so quickly.”
HethoughtIwas upset withhim?
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I promised. “Guess we have the same issue. What you see before you is probably the most fabulous thing on two legs, but that doesn’t mean I’m not worried about saying or doing something that will offend someone. I hate, and I meanhatewhen people are upset with me, and I tend to go overboard trying to fix a problem, be it perceived or real. I left because I thought I’d done or said something stupid.”
“No, not at all,” he assured me. “I really did enjoy the breakfast, and… I don’t know. I wanted to talk with you. To hear what your plans for the day were, what you thought about the bar. I just wanted to hear your voice, I guess.”
I was about to say something when the door opened. A man I’d seen in the bar before strode in, with two other guys at his heel. He saw me sitting with Toby and gave a weird sneer-slash-chuckle.
“See, guys, told you. Toby has a crush.”
Toby’s face went scarlet as he pushed up from the table. “I warned you about that shit,” he grumbled. “All you had to do was come in here, drink, and go home to your wife. Instead, you come in here, denigrate my employees, and try to pass that shit off as a joke. No more. Get out. You’re not welcome here anymore.”
The guy’s eyes widened. “Toby, I—”
“Get. Out.”
“But—”
“Get the fuck out of here,” he roared. “I warned you about doing shit like that. Get out.”
The guy’s friends put their hands on his arms and tried to guide him to the door, but the guy jerked away. He stomped across the floor and got in Toby’s face.
“We don’t want to drink in no fag place anyway,” he snarled. “You hire all these queers, and you think no one knows about you? You probably take them in the back and feed them your dick every night.”
Toby reached for the asshole, but I was there to stop him from doing something he would regret.
“Don’t. He’s not worth it.”
I turned, ready to do what I could to defuse the situation. I didn’t see the fist headed for my face until it was too late.
Fuck, just what I needed, another smack to my perfect nose.
Chapter Seven
Toby
The sound was loud in the now-quiet bar. The smack of flesh on flesh reverberated in my head until it was the only thing I could hear. That fuckwad had punched Kyle in the face, knocking him to the ground. I’d heard of people seeing red before they lost it, and I thought it was just something they said, but nope. I saw Kyle on the floor, his hands covering his nose, and I lost it. I grabbed the guy and rushed forward, driving him into the wall hard enough to rattle the pictures.
“You don’t touch him. You don’t put your hands on anyone that works here, do you understand me?”
