Chapter Eighteen

Brian let the cell phone fall to his chest and blinked at the ceiling of his apartment. He was ready to bike down to the Allegheny River and heave his phone into the water, just as soon as he crawled out of bed and could see straight.

Miranda, who had a shift this morning, couldn’t make it. Her grandmom had been taken to the hospital overnight and Miranda was still there. God, Brian understood. Family was the most important thing.

But he’d also worked every day for the past three days and not the usual six-hour shifts—literally the entire day—all twelve-plus hours. Just him, even during the busiest times. Everyone was either sick or out of town or in the middle of some fucking crisis. A perfect storm of shit descending on the shop. Seemed like it had been that way since his last day off—the day he’d taken Rob to his parents a week ago. Two weeks ago? He wasn’t even sure what day it was. Phone read Wednesday.

Today was supposed to have been his morning off.

Time to stop moping and haul his sorry ass into the shower. He had about twenty minutes to make it to the shop and get it opened. Ideally, he should’ve been there by now, but nothing recently had been ideal.

After the world’s fastest shower, he headed down to Grounds N’at. Didn’t even bother shaving—he could get away with a day’s worth of scruff. Somehow, he managed to get the store ready and unlocked right before eight. He quickly downed three shots of espresso.

A watery Americano wouldn’t cut it today.

Fuck, he was tired. Bone-weary. Not enough sleep, too much caffeine, and too many hours on his feet. He’d had no time to figure out what he needed to cut from the menu now that prices were up—and the comfortable cushion of cash he’d set aside dwindled each week.

Sales were down, too.

On top of everything else, he missed Rob horribly. They’d texted and talked on the phone, and Rob had stopped in a few days earlier, but they hadn’t spent any quality time together since they’d had dinner with his folks. The shop had been nuts, between scheduling conflicts and trying to finish Lamont’s and Rich’s training so they could work on their own.

Beth was up to speed, which was good, but he didn’t feel comfortable about handing her a key to the store yet—he’d done that too soon with Ethan, and look where that had gotten them. Of course losing Vance had also driven him to this point, too.

Regardless, either Mark, Miranda, or he had to open and close the shop.

Right now? It was mostly him. Fitting punishment for his fuckups, but it meant he had hardly any time for Rob.

Sometimes, Rob would pick him up and spend the night, but lately he hadn’t had the energy for anything other than falling asleep. Even mornings weren’t great—everything hurt and he always wanted five more minutes of sleep before he had to slog into the shop and start the day again.

The worst part was watching Rob’s smiles go from honest to pained. He’d seen that with Anita, too, when the shop had swallowed him whole.

Seeing Rob hurt was a kick to the ribs. Especially when he hadn’t any fucking clue what to do to fix it. He’d tried everything.

The shop bell rang and he resisted scrubbing his face with his clean hands.

Eli and Justin, thank goodness. He could be less bright and chipper for them. He got started on Eli’s drink. Justin ordered something different every time.

Both men wore frowns. Justin tipped his head. “I thought you had off this morning?”

“Miranda’s grandmom’s in the hospital.”

Justin’s face fell more. “Shit.”

“Yeah, so here I am.”

Justin opened his mouth to speak, but shook his head instead.

Brian finished Eli’s Americano, and turned back. “Know what you want?”

Justin peered at the board, then shrugged. “I’m going to be dull and mimic my husband today.”

“I am hardly dull,” Eli said. “And you know it.” He hooked his cane over his arm and stirred creamer into his takeaway cup.

There was Justin’s grin, the one that won over every single customer Grounds N’at had ever had. “Yes, dear.”

Eli raised an eyebrow, put the lid on his cup, and drew an imaginary tick mark on an imaginary board.

Justin smiled and grabbed a lid while Eli paid. When Brian handed Eli his change, Eli dropped the whole lot into the tip jar. “Take care of yourself, Brian.”

It felt like an order. “I am.”

Same raised eyebrow, but no tick on any board. He saluted Brian with his cup, then they were both out the door and heading to the office upstairs.

Yeah, maybe he wasn’t. But he was stuck. Nothing to do but ride the situation out until things calmed down.

Hopefully he wouldn’t lose Rob in the process. He pulled out his phone. Rob would be at his desk by now, so he texted the same message he’d sent every day as of late.

Thinking about you. Miss you.

There wasn’t a reply right away. Rob often had a morning meeting—and Brian had customers walking in the door. He shoved his phone back into his pocket.

Even after he waded through the morning rush and checked again, Rob still hadn’t replied.

Brian cringed. That, too, had happened with Anita when their interactions had dwindled to short text messages.

A pain in his chest and a keening in his heart at the thought of Rob breaking things off. Crushing and visceral. He gripped the counter’s edge until the blasted bell on the door rang, and he pushed the turmoil in his soul away, pasted on a smile, and brewed coffee.

Somewhere around eleven, his phone finally buzzed.

So sorry. Long in-person meeting! I miss you too. More than I can say.

Like a lifted weight from his chest.

How’s your morning been?

Brian stared at that text, then typed the truth. Hard. Miranda’s at the hospital w/ her grandmom. So I’m working all day.

The reply was almost instantaneous. Shit. She ok?

Don’t know.

You ok?

He huffed a laugh. Yeah. Tired.

I can imagine. This is day four, isn’t it?

Of working full days. Yup. Of course Rob would know. He knew Brian’s schedule better than Brian at this point.

Yeah. And another tomorrow.

Wow. I’m sorry, love. I know it’s rough.

It was killing him, if he wanted to be honest with himself, which of course, he didn’t want to be.

I’ll be fine.

He wanted to crawl under the counter and cry. He loved the shop, but right at the moment, he hated every single bean and porcelain cup.

A longer pause.

I’m here for you, Bri.

Shaking fingers. I know.

But for how much longer, since Brian couldn’t be there for Rob?

Let me know when you’re free again, and I’ll take off work. Do whatever you want to do.

Sleep. He wanted to sleep and stop having anxiety claw its way through his gut and throat every day. He wanted to stop shaking when the mail came.

I’ll let you know.

Love you, Bri.

Love you, too.

And he did, so much. Brian tucked away his phone and scrubbed his face, then got to cleaning dishes and wiping down the counter and tables before the lunch hour rush began.

Around one thirty, Miranda came in. She didn’t look heartbroken, which was good, but she looked as tired as he felt. “Hey, how’s your grandma?”

She sat down at the counter. When Brian gestured to the espresso machine, she shook her head. “I’m too wired.” She paused. “Grandmom’s alive and . . . okay.” She twisted her lips.

Not good. “What happened?”

“She fell. Lost her balance. Broke her arm, and bruised up her hip real bad.” Miranda cradled her head in her hands. “But the pain meds aren’t good for her. She’s more disoriented than ever and—” She broke off. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen.”

“If there’s anything I can do—”

She waved the words away. “Shit Bri, you’ve kept me on. That’s above and beyond. I’m your most irregular employee ever.”

“You’re also my best.” Utterly and completely true. If she could work more hours, that would solve a ton of issues.

She smiled, but it was pained, as if she understood his thoughts. “Doesn’t help if I’m not here.”

Yeah. “It’s fine. We’re going through a bump, that’s all.”

Her smile dropped away. “Bri, this is worse than before, and you need a break.” She tipped her head. “Everyone can see you’re at your limit.”

He started to reply, but the shop door opened and several people trickled in. Miranda waved him away.

After washing his hands, he took their orders and started in on the drinks. None were that complex and his mood had lightened enough that the smile didn’t feel forced this time. Nor the friendly banter. When they took their seats over by the window he turned back to Miranda.

“I’m just tired.”

“And stressed.”

“That, too.” He shrugged. “Nothing I can do. Maybe over the summer I can hire a few more people. But we have our hands full training Rich and Lamont.”

She nodded, and eyed him. “When was the last time you saw Rob?”

God. It was like she knew him. Then again, they’d worked together for how long? He rubbed the back of his neck. “About a week ago?”

“Quality time?”

She was either asking about conversation or sex, but it didn’t matter. “More like me passing out in his arms.”

A grunt and she pulled out her phone. “You’re working Saturday night, right?”

That was the current schedule. “Yup. Mark in the morning, with Rich, and me in the evening with Lamont.”

“Switch with me, since you’re taking mine today.” Miranda looked up.

He stared back. “Seriously?” She didn’t do Saturday evenings, especially on holiday weekends.

“Yup. I owe you one, and you need a day off.”

“But your grandmom . . .”

She winced. “Well, here’s the thing. Even if she’s out of the hospital, which she should be, she’s going to be in rehab for a while. I’m still gonna need to go see her, but she won’t be home.”

So Miranda had flexibility. “I—don’t know what to say.” Fortune from misfortune.

“Say, ‘Yes Miranda, I’ll switch shifts with you so I can go spend an entire day with my handsome British boyfriend.’”

God the heat in his face. He coughed. “I’ll switch shifts.”

“Good man.” She glanced at her phone again. “I gotta head out.”

“Mir, I’m incredibly grateful . . .”

“Remember that when I start pestering you for more hours.”

“You pester me for more hours, and I’ll come over and mow your lawn and wash your car in gratitude.”

She laughed and rose. “I’m going to remember you said that, Keppler!”

So would he, and if she did ask for more hours, he’d do exactly as he said. Holy fuck, that would solve so much.

He gave Miranda a wave then grabbed a cookie to tide him over. He needed to get food of some kind, but another cluster of customers came in when Miranda left, so he put that out of his mind.

“Hey,” he said to the woman who sidled up to the counter, “What can I get you?”

After this batch of slinging coffee, he’d text Rob the good news.

***

Rob’s phone buzzed in the middle of his weekly leadership meeting. Normally, he’d glance at it, just to make sure it wasn’t an emergency, then ignore it. This time, two words jumped out at him: Off and Saturday.

The room vanished and he must have vocalized something, because Carter stopped in midsentence. “Something wrong?”

Rob looked up and everyone in the room was staring at him. Shit. He must have the reddest face if the heat and embarrassment creeping up his back were anything to go by. “No. Some unexpected news. Not company related.” He clicked the phone off and shoved it into his jacket pocket. “Please go on.”

He was laser-focused the rest of the meeting, even with that text burning through his blood.

Brian had Saturday off. All of it. A freaking miracle, especially given this was a holiday weekend. Memorial Day. The unofficial start to summer. And the beast had released Brian from its claws for a day.

When Rob got back to his office, he put his phone on his desk and slipped off his suit jacket. He shouldn’t be so harsh about the shop. It was a good place. But it was fucking killing Brian, no doubt about that. Every time he tried to pry from Brian what was going on so he could help, Brian shut him down. Didn’t want to talk about it. Got snippy and angry.

I know how to run my shop.

Yes, he did. Something wasn’t working, though. He stared at both the phone and his computer. He should look into the business of running a coffee shop. If nothing else, he could figure out how to help more subtly.

In the meantime . . . He snatched up his phone and leaned back in his desk chair.

Out of my meeting. Of course I want to spend the day with you!

No answer right away. Probably customers. Rob set the phone down, woke his computer, and dug into his e-mail.

A few minutes later his buzzing phone startled him.

Great! I work Friday night. Pick me up?

Always. He’d expected that. Planned for it. Dinner, too?

The way I haven’t been eating? Yes, please.

That he’d noticed. In the past few weeks, Brian had lost weight. Rob saw it and felt it when he held Brian in his arms. It wasn’t bad—but it wasn’t good, either.

We’ll go anywhere you want.

Even Burgatory??

He’d even brave the Waterfront on the Friday night before a holiday weekend. That counts as anywhere, yes? I’ll swing by at 8:30.

I can’t fucking wait. I need a break from here.

Now that was good to hear. Can’t wait either.

Ooof. After school rush. Talk later!

Rob glanced at the clock. Just after three. That made sense. Well, he merely had to make it through the rest of today, Thursday, and Friday.

If he could give Brian one day of happiness, that would be worth all the pain.