Last Friday Night

Tyler rubbed his eyes as he stepped out of the diner and into the chilly October air. His head had been throbbing since he’d climbed out of bed over an hour ago. The kitchen had been as empty as his bed in the mornings and, disgruntled, he had dragged his ass out of the apartment and down the street, hoping breakfast would do away with his headache. But as he shuffled back toward home, he couldn’t remember being more wrong in his life. If anything, the food had worsened the ache.

No sooner had he reached his floor than his phone started to ring, the chime shooting a spear of agony through his brain. He growled and ground his teeth, then fished the gadget out of his pocket and answered without caring who was on the other end.

“Speak quietly,” he warned as he stumbled into the apartment.

“Tyler?” The caller spoke barely above a whisper. He knew that voice, no mistaking it.

“Dylan?” His baby brother hardly ever called. Granted, Tyler couldn’t fault anyone but himself for that, but that wasn’t the point. Today, something about Dylan’s voice unnerved him.

Tyler felt his way toward a chair, his headache all but forgotten.

“I know you said not to call unless it was an emergency but…I don’t know where else I can turn.” Dylan’s voice broke.

Tyler sat there, stoic and unmoving. “What’s wrong?”

Dylan was silent on the other end of the line for a long minute, then drew in a shaky breath. “They found out about Sean.”

Tyler rolled his eyes at the mention of the name of the scrawny dude his brother had taken to fucking. He fought his revulsion and tried to focus on the big picture. Their parents were conservative to say the least, and if they had found out about Dylan’s boyfriend—he suppressed a shudder as the word and all its implications rolled around in his already tender brain—that could only mean one thing. “They kicked you out.”

Dylan broke down, and Tyler squirmed. He hadn’t heard his brother really cry since they’d been way younger. The weeping made him uncomfortable now that they were both in their twenties.

“Dylan,” he said, not sure what else to say. He couldn’t possibly talk to their parents; once they’d made up their minds about something, no one could say anything to convince them otherwise.

“I don’t have anywhere to go,” Dylan sobbed.

Tyler sighed. He had reservations about his brother and his…alternative lifestyle, but he couldn’t leave him to sleep out in the cold. “Where are you now?”

“At the park near the house.”

“How much money do you have on you?”

“Probably about fifty bucks and my bank card.”

“They take the car?”

“Tried to. But it’s in my name, so they kinda can’t.”

Tyler sighed once again. “Get your ass over here.” And he hung up before Dylan could say anything else.

He stood and looked around his tiny apartment. There was barely enough room for him in here. How the hell was he supposed to squeeze a whole other person in?

The phone started to ring again and he groaned as his headache returned full force, but he still took the call. “Dylan, I’ll talk to you when you get here,” he said. He could hear the irritation in his voice.

“Tyler?” Same question, different voice.

Eyebrow raised, he looked at the screen and saw Jess’s face. “Shit, I’m sorry. I just got off the phone with my brother. Thought you were him.”

“It’s fine,” Jess said. “I thought maybe we could get together and talk about what happened last night.”

Tyler squirmed. No man had ever said that to him, and he was glad. Those words coming from a man’s mouth made him feel dirty. “Um, sure. Where do you want to meet?”

Jess named a nearby café. “Should I pick you up?”

“It’s fine, I can just walk there.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Just let me hop in the shower and I’ll see you there in a bit.”

Tyler ended the call and dropped the phone on the couch. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling, but he didn’t like it. His insides had inexplicably warmed at the thought of seeing Jess. He brushed it off and headed into the bathroom.

Twenty minutes and a couple aspirin later, he was walking out the front door and tucking his key under the mat for Dylan to find. He sent Dylan a text message to guide him to it.

It seemed to have gotten colder since Tyler had walked into his building. He zipped his jacket as he walked. The last thing he needed right now was a fucking cold. The cars zipping past and the apartment buildings that gave way to the tiny businesses started to blur.

His mind floated back to his brother as he went to the café. He thought he’d done everything right growing up, so how had Dylan turned out queer? It had to be that Sean guy. He’d always been around when they were younger, sprouting up wherever Dylan was like a fucking weed or something. Tyler should’ve known something was up then and put a stop to it. Maybe if he had, Dylan wouldn’t be on his way right now, no doubt in tears once again.

But what if it wasn’t Sean? What if it was something Tyler had done? Or hadn’t done? What if he hadn’t been there to protect Dylan like no one had been there to protect him when—

Tyler shook the thought away and forced the memory back to the recesses of his mind before it could jump to the front. If he didn’t think about it, that meant he didn’t accept that it had happened. Right?

Tyler was so lost in his thoughts he almost strolled right past the café. When he stepped inside, the smell of great coffee jarred him to life the way the crap he’d had at the diner earlier had not. But other aromas reminded him why he avoided places like this like the plague. Coffee wasn’t meant to have a hundred different flavors and scents, and the fact Jess had suggested they meet here made Tyler question the other man’s masculinity.

The man in question stood up and beckoned him toward a table in the center of the café. People bustled all around as he made his way to where Jess stood. It seemed strange that, considering how tiny their town was, more people were packed in here than he’d seen out in the streets. The damned café didn’t even look that large from the outside.

Tyler had never considered himself graceful, but he shouldn’t have had to do the dance of the gods to get through the crowd of other customers. It took nearly a full minute, but he finally reached Jess’s table.

“Hey,” Jess said.

Tyler took a second to study Jess. Untidy mop of black curls, deep blue eyes set an odd distance apart in his face, scruffy along his jawline as though he hadn’t shaved this morning. There was something off about this man, Tyler realized, but he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was. And until he could, he would reserve his judgment.

“Hey,” he replied, interpreting the look on Jess’s face as mild discomfort.

They sat, and a curvaceous blond with legs for days sashayed up to their table, notepad and pen in hand, wearing an apron bearing the cafe’s insignia embroidered on the front. Her name tag read Lilah. “What can I get for you gentlemen?” she asked.

Tyler felt that familiar ache deep in his gut and ignored it. Business now. He could play later. “Coffee. Pitch black,” he said, grinning at her.

She smiled down at him and, just like that, he knew he’d have her in his bed tonight. She turned her attention to Jess. “And for you?”

“Cappuccino. Extra foam.”

Tyler stared at him, incredulous.

“What?”

“What kind of a man drinks cappuccino?”

“This one,” Jess said. He looked back to Lilah. “And could I have a shot of espresso?”

“Sure,” she said. “I’ll be right back.” And she sashayed away. Tyler watched her leave, his mouth watering at the way her skirt clung to hips and ass. Glorious. He was actually entertaining the thought of getting up and following her to the back when Jess snapped a finger in front of his face. Tyler blinked as he came back to reality.

“What?”

“Focus, Casanova.”

“What are you talking about?” Tyler asked, his face growing hot. Jess’s scrutiny was disconcerting, but he couldn’t force himself to say anything about it, or find an excuse to get from under the other man’s gaze. It was almost as though Jess was looking through him.

“Can we get down to business?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

Jess’s stare made Tyler feel as though he was being examined. And he didn’t like it. Not at all.