Ace
The Press Room was a fairly new addition to Wilmingson—at least, within the past ten years. Peter, the owner, had moved to town from outside. Somewhere like Pennsylvania, if Ace remembered correctly. Most of the time, Ace didn’t agree with spending five bucks for a cup of coffee. But his coffee maker had broken that morning, and Ace took it as a sign that he needed to get out and explore the town he’d left so long ago.
It wasn’t as though he hadn’t been back in ten years. He came home for Christmas, and the occasional long weekend. But his time off was limited, so he usually spent three days or so holed up in his dad’s house, before taking the train back to Boston. When he did get out, it was only to run to the grocery store or to grab burgers from Sal’s.
He stared intently at the drink menu, trying to figure out what the hell to get, when someone approached from behind the counter.
“What can I get y—Ace?”
Ace looked up to find a short girl with a pixie cut and a watercolor tattoo staring at him. She looked familiar, but Ace couldn’t place her immediately.
“Tell me you remember me.” She crossed her arms and tried to look serious, but there was a gleam in her eye. He knew her then.
“Jesus Christ, you’ve grown up, Faithie.”
“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Faith?”
“Apparently one more,” Ace said with a grin. “How’s Zach?”
Faith shrugged. “He’s good. Settled down. Married Savannah Marcus, you remember her.”
He did, but he never would have seen that pair coming. They’d hated each other from the moment she’d transferred in, his junior year. Zach, Faith’s cousin, had been something of a jock, and Savannah had been the more academic type. In kindergarten, he would have been the one to pull her pigtails on the playground. In high school, he tried to ask her to prom by giving her a frog heart in anatomy.
“Yeah, yeah I do. You’ve grown up, Faithie.”
Faith scowled and crossed her arms tighter. “I have a boyfriend.”
Ace blinked, and he realized she thought he was flirting with her. He could let her keep believing that. After all, there was a chance that he would leave for New York and they would never need to know that he was gay. But that wouldn’t be fair to Phoenix, and if he were being honest with himself, he didn’t want to hide it.
“So do I,” he said with a smile.
Faith’s eyes went wide. “You have a boyfriend?”
“Yep,” he said, popping the P. It wasn’t exactly official, but ‘boyfriend’ was the best term he had to describe Phoenix.
“Is he here? Do I know him? Tell me everything!”
In spite of himself, Ace smiled. It was kind of nice to have someone who wanted to know about him, even if it was just Faithie.
They had practically been raised together, Ace, Faith, and Zach. She was a few years younger than the boys, so Ace always felt a sort of protection toward her. Clearly she didn’t need it, since she seemed to be doing just fine working at the Press Room.
“I don’t know how much I can tell. It’s still pretty new.”
“Tell me you figured it out sooner than Sam and Ben.”
“Ben Matheny?”
“Yep. He’s dating my manager.”
Huh. So that was who Phoenix was talking about when he mentioned the other gay guys in the town. It made sense that there would be other gay guys, but the number still took Ace by surprise. Even though Wilmingson was a progressive little town, Ace still saw it as backward in some ways. Apparently it wasn’t exactly as he remembered.
“Your manager wouldn’t happen to be named Sam, would he?”
Faith nodded. “Yeah, why?”
“No reason. The guy I’m seeing just mentioned him.”
Pursing her lips, Faith shifted her weight from one leg to the other. “Hang on. Are you dating Phoenix Wrenn?”
Ace felt the color drain out of his face. Damn, she always had been perceptive. “You can’t tell a soul, okay? This is new, and I don’t want things to go wrong.”
Faith seemed to light up. “So you’re the guy he was freaking out about going on a date with. How’d it go? I haven’t had a chance to see him since.”
“It went fine, unless you count some asshole trying to ruin everything. I put him in his place.”
And he’d been damn happy to do it. He wasn’t going to let anyone hurt Phoenix.
“Damn, with those muscles? I bet he ran home crying to his mother.”
Ace laughed, feeling oddly light. Maybe he needed to come into town more often. The door opened behind him, and a bearded man in his forties entered.
“Nice to see you’re hard at work,” he said. His tone was stern, but there was a smile in his eyes. He turned toward Ace. “I haven’t seen you in here before. New in town?”
“Not quite. I grew up here and I’ve come back to stay for a bit. I’m Ace Sherridan.”
“You’re the new reporter on with the Herald. Bud’s mentioned you once or twice. Said you’re doing some articles for the magazine.”
“Yeah, I am,” he said with a nod.
For the time being. The thought of the job in New York still lingered in his mind. He could find a million coffee shops up there just like this. Maybe he’d even be on a first name basis with the baristas. But he wouldn’t know their history. He wouldn’t be able to ask about their cousins or tease about old times when they were kids.
Ace cleared his throat. “Can I get a pour-over of the Columbian?”
“Sure thing,” Faith said with a wink.
She worked quickly, methodically, and Ace took the opportunity to look around. The Press Room was an interesting café, that was for sure. It looked like a hybrid between a coffee shop and a laboratory. A contraption that looked oddly like a still filtered cold brew, and in one corner, caramel sauce was bubbling away in a beaker. But for all its sterility, there was also something cozy about it.
A mom sat in one corner, sipping her drink while she dangled a fuzzy pink pig over the stroller. Along the bar in front of the window, a young couple sat talking quietly. The girl laughed at something the boy said, then leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.
All of them had stories to tell. All of them had hopes, dreams, and worries. They all had their own lives. He had been so adamant that he had gone into journalism to tell the stories of those who around him. Bud had all but promised him a job as the editor-in-chief. But still, there was something that kept him from agreeing. Something that made him want to run away and never look back.
Faith slid his coffee across the bar, and Ace caught it.
“Thanks,” he said, handing her a five.
She handed him his change, and he went to drop it in the tip jar, then paused. The jar on the left said Dragon while the one on the right said Liger.
“What’s this supposed to mean?” he asked.
“Hmm? Oh. Who do you think would win in a fight? It’s something Sam came up with.”
Ace laughed, then dropped his change into the Liger jar.
Faith raised a brow. “Really? Explain that logic.”
“Easy,” Ace said with a shrug. “Dragons aren’t real.”
He turned on his heel and walked out the door, Faith still laughing behind him.