Bartosz gave their waiter the side-eye and signaled for more coffee. “He is that.”
“But it’s more than that.” Ajax swallowed and took a sip of his water. “He’s just… real. He doesn’t hide who he is. He seems to like everyone. Makes them feel special.”
“I will say he’s wasted here,” Bartosz remarked while Ajax watched their waiter’s round, firm ass retreat. “Serving pancakes for twenty tables of tourists at a time. His mother must be so proud.”
“His mothershouldbe proud as long as he loves what he does,” Ajax argued. “It’s not the number of people who—”
“How many Instagram followers do you have again?” Dmytro asked slyly.
Ajax lowered his gaze to his nearly empty plate. “Not as many as Cardi B.”
“The boy is aromanticattention whore, Mitya.”
Ajax sought out a clean napkin. “Do you have a pen?”
Dmytro’s brows drew together. “For what?”
“So I can give the hot waiter my number. What did you think?”
Dmytro stared at him in shock. “You have no phone. Plus, he’s far too old.”
“It’s cute how you think that’d be a problem for—Ow.” Ajax rubbed his calf. He glared when Dmytro didn’t apologize for bumping his legagain.
“Don’t stare at the old man,” Dmytro ordered.
“Everyone’s staring at him. He’s amazing.” Ajax laughed at the shocked expression on Dmytro’s face.
“He’s an adequate waiter.” Dmytro arched his brow. “But… twice your age.”
“Is not. He’s… thirty-five, at most. I’ve dated men older. And anyway, my family would be totallyelatedif I found someonenice, even if they were on a first-name basis with Adam and Steve.”
“Hmph.” Dmytro literally grunted while Ajax continued to watch the waiter move gracefully around the small restaurant. Frankly, at that point it wasn’t because he was really into the man; it was because Dmytro looked ready to kill him.
“Let’s find you something to do that doesn’t involve you making trouble.” Dmytro wolfed down the rest of his food before opening the check wallet and laying a handful of twenties in it. “Something without death threats or—”
“And leave you guys without a job?” Ajax asked. “You’d hate that.”
Crack,crack,crack. The window behind Ajax’s head shattered.
Dmytro’s body hit Ajax like a wall of meat, and they crashed to the floor with such force Ajax thought Dmytro might have been hit. Bartosz drew his weapon and hovered over them, searching past the broken window for the threat.
“Dmytro.” Ajax tried to get up, but Dmytro laid a huge hand in the middle of his back.
“Staydown.” Bits of glass rained from his hair.
“But are you okay?”
Dmytro’s “Fine” was music to his ears. “Bartosz?”
Someone shouted, “He’s got a gun!” and pandemonium broke out over the small crowd, People turned tables over, fleeing, slipping in food and spilled drinks and broken glass as they fled toward the back of the restaurant to escape the danger coming from the front.
One woman fell, and Ajax saw the exact moment a man accidentally stepped on her wrist. He winced at the pain on her face as it broke and moaned with her.
“This is all my fault.”
This was because he hadn’t taken the threats on his life seriously. Because he’d never believed the coincidences that led them to this place could be connected. Now he had to face the terrible certainty that he really was in danger, and his only thought washow?
How could this be happening? None of the threads connected, except…
