“I said we need to talk,” he intones through a clenched jaw, and I’m not even sure how it’s possible to talk so seriously without opening one’s mouth.
“And I said not today.”
“Today,” he parrots stubbornly.
“She said she doesn’t wanna talk to you, man.” Archie puffs his chest, and Justin stands up. They look like two baboons on Discovery Channel. All they’re missing are red butts and tails.
"I don't remember asking your opinion," Justin tells him.
“Okay, stop.” I smack the counter. “Justin, I’m not in the mood to talk today. You can call tomorrow, and we’ll set up a time. Archie, thank you for standing up for me, but I deal with shit on my own. And Justin is old shit that I’m used to.”
Justin looks like I just kneed him in the balls while Archie's trying to hide a smile.
“Who’s that?” Justin finally stops this pissing contest—sort of—and asks me.
“That,” I gesture at tall, dark, and handsome, “is Archie, Alex’s friend from the navy.”
Justin's jaw clenches even more, and I fear his teeth are all but cracked. I know he's heard this name before, and he has nothing but respect for the man, but the way they met wasn't really a good start.
“And he is?” Archie asks me.
“And that,” I gesture at tall, blond, and devilish, “is Justin. Alex’s childhood friend.”
I wait for them to shake hands, but they don’t. They’re still two baboons showing each other how big their teeth are. At this point, I'm half expecting them to pull out their dicks and compare sizes.
I don’t understand Justin’s behavior. Why he got so mad at Archie without even knowing him is beyond my comprehension. Maybe it's an alpha thing: two of those can’t be in the same room.
No more cleaning can be done today, so I turn off all the machines, check the kitchen, and return to the bar to grab my bag. They haven’t said a word and still are looking at each other like they’re about to brawl. I roll my eyes so dramatically that I’m sure they’re one step away from getting stuck at the back of my head forever.
“Alright. We need to go. We’ll talk tomorrow, Justin.” I grab Archie’s hand and move to the door, but Justin doesn’t move. I look back—he’s working his jaw from side to side. His eyes are glued to my hand on Archie’s. I’m about to let it go when Archie swiftly moves his, intervening our fingers, and gently squeezes my hand. I let it be. Justin notices this exchange and strides past us without a single word, smacking the door into our newly renovated wall, leaving the picture over the accent table shaking and a massive dent in its wake. He walks toward his shop without looking back and disappears into the dark.
I look over the damage again and sigh—I had a feeling we forgot a few little details. Like door stoppers, for example.
Archie chuckles, and I pull my hand from him. “He wants you so bad.” He shakes his head.
“What?” I startle.
“That guy, Justin,” he nods toward where Justin just disappeared, “he wants into your pants. Bad.”
“Let me stop you right there. He wants something, but it’s not to get into my pants.” I start to walk around the diner to the parking spot usually taken by Marina, but today I was there first.
Archie laughs louder. “Hesodoes. That’s why I held your hand. He wanted to kill me real bad.” I look at him as if he just spurted two—no, three—horns from his head. “What? You don’t believe me?” He chuckles, biting his lower lip. I suppose it’s meant to work to his advantage, making him look like a cute bad boy.
"You're wasting that on me." I point my finger at his face, causing him to laugh even louder. "And that guy hates my guts." I point at where Justin just disappeared.
“He may hate you, but he still wants to fuck you.” His laughter’s dying. Finally. Hallelujah. “And you wanna fuck him. I say go for it. Hate-fucks are the best.” He chuckles.
“I’ve known you for a whole five minutes, and you’re already giving me sex advice. Moving too fast, don’t you think?” I raise a brow.
“Life’s short.” His face sobers, and I get the feeling he knows what he’s talking about.
“I’m rethinking my invitation.” I tap on my chin with a finger. “You’re annoying, so go find Alex yourself.”
He laughs again. “You don’t mean that.” I scowl at him. Damn jokester. “I don’t know shit about cars, and mine’s fucked on the side of the road. I need to find a mechanic or something. Do you know one?”
"Yep." I say, popping the ‘p.’ “You just met him.”
“Fucking small towns.” He laughs again and shakes his head. If he laughs one more time, I’ll gag him with my dirty sock. That thing just went through a full waitressing shift. But I’m an evil person on Tuesdays. Archie's lucky because today's Monday, so instead, I pinch his arm a little harder than I intend to, and his eyes shift with something. And it's not a fucking annoyance. It's…excitement.
