Page 39 of Coming to Grips
He knows just how to arrange himself comfortably on the old sofa. Knows where the lumps and the holes are after many months of sleeping on it. Almost like an old lover—but he doesn’t want to think of lovers right now. Instead, he watches the lightning flash through the partially open mini-blinds, listens as the thunder rolls closer, listens as the next wave of the storm batters the roof of the building and the cars in the parking lot. Listens and watches until he falls asleep, no closer to making any sense of what happened.
* * *
Coffee making procedures rouse Kyle from sleep. He lies there for a few minutes, but the resulting gurgle and the smooth, rich scent lures him off the sofa and into the kitchen. He takes a seat at the small square pub table.
Tyler remains quiet, just pulls two mugs from the cupboard as well as the sugar and assorted creamers. Tyler likes flavored coffee. Kyle usually swills his ranch coffee black—it’s a means to an end on work days—but today he’ll indulge in something a little more flavorful. While the coffee finishes brewing, Tyler pulls a package of waffles from the freezer, drops four squares into the toaster, and sets the table.
He pours coffee and waits for the toaster. It pops a few minutes later and he tosses a pair of waffles on each plate before settling more into the toaster. Then he sits, prepares his coffee and his food, and begins eating.
Kyle does the same and they eat in companionable silence. The window over the kitchen sink is open several inches allowing the bird chatter to float in on the humid air.
Tyler’s hair sticks up in odd directions and his thin tee shirt doesn’t quite hide the fading hickey on his collarbone. He looks the same as he had on many of their own mornings after.
Kyle points his chin towards the mark. “Is my being here going to get you into trouble?”
Tyler shakes his head. “Nah, I texted Alex last night. Told him you were here. So.” He shrugs. “Which side of the scene were you on?”
Kyle’s eyes widen.
“Alex tends bar at Black Gold. He called me on a break and mentioned there’d been some sort of dust-up between a woman and a couple of cowboys. When you showed up on my doorstep at twelve thirty in the morning, I put two and two together and figured you were one of the cowboys.” Tyler blows across the steaming liquid in his mug.
Kyle nods, shovels in a bite of waffle, swallows. “I was on the receiving end.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
Kyle raises an eyebrow and takes another bite. “What’s there to talk about?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.” Tyler takes a bite, chews, swallows. “Who was the other guy?”
“Does it matter?”
“You look like it matters.”
Kyle sighs. He reallydoesn’twant to talk about it. He shoves a wedge of waffle dripping with syrup into his mouth.
Now Tyler’s eyebrow goes up. “So what happened to Chase’s arm?”
Kyle glares.
Tyler grins. “Chase, huh?”
Kyle presses his lips together and nods once. He hates that Tyler knows him so well.
“I thought Chase was straight as a fence post?”
Kyle shakes his head. “Chase is...special.”
“We’re all special, Kyle,” Tyler says with a wink.
“Fuck you.” Kyle slurps coffee and eats another bite of waffle.
“Thanks, but I’m pretty attached to Alex. I don’t think he’d appreciate that much.” Tyler reaches across the table and taps the back of Kyle’s hand with his forefinger. “Tell me about Chase.”
Kyle shakes his head again.
“You know you want to. Whatever happened, you’re still nuts about the guy. Oh...wait...” Tyler cocks his head for a moment, eyes narrowing, mouth pursing. “You’vebeennuts about the guy. For quite some time, I take it.”
“God, I hate you.”
