Speed King (Men of Action 1)

“My guess is this isn’t about a bad day. This has lover’s quarrel written all over it. Ace know you’re dressed like that?” Tom refers to the same too tight shirt of Jewls’ I borrowed last week paired with black leggings with slashes throughout the leg showing plenty of skin.

I slam the knife down and pivot to face Tom. “No, Ace doesn’t know I’m dressed like this because it’s none of his business. Like my working here is none of his business. And this is NOT a lover’s quarrel in any way, shape, or form!”

My outburst doesn’t faze him, and he has the nerve to grin knowingly. “Uh-huh.” He slides behind Jewls, going toward the storage room, calling over his shoulder, “I’m bringing the stock up tonight. I want to see some asses in those seats when I return.”

I swallow down my frustration and switch my glare to Jewls, who’s staring at me curiously. “What’d he do?”

I think about giving her an excuse, but know I’ll end up spilling my guts eventually, so I fill her in on the morning and the exchange in his truck. She listens keenly, and when I’m done, instead of showing signs of sympathy, her eyes light with amusement.

“You think this is funny?”

“Not exactly. This happened a lot quicker than I suspected.”

“What does that mean?”

“Yesterday was all unicorns and flowers—literally. You were walking on cloud nine. Lunches, dinners, falling asleep on sofas, and waking up to the man of your dreams. Breakfast with Erik, doing laundry, watching TV… You jumped from not talking for years to making out like teenagers at lightning speed. You skipped a lot of details, and I knew reality would hit at some point.”

“I’m not sure I like where you’re going with this.”

“You shouldn’t because the truth stings, but from what you told me about his showing up on Saturday morning until he left yesterday, don’t you think you avoided some major subjects?”

“What’s wrong with living in the moment? Enjoying what was happening? It’s called new beginnings.”

“Yeah, babe. New beginnings are the fun parts. The giddy, butterfly swarming, hand-holding, stealing-a-kiss type bliss moments.”

“Is there a problem with that?”

“There’s not if you were experiencing them with a stranger or a man more like the chump you went out with a few weeks ago. You and Ace have a long history, most of that with you being head over ass in love with him.”

“I don’t think I want to discuss this anymore with you.”

“Sure you don’t, but straight up, you and he are different people, and anyone that has knowledge of this song and dance knows it will work out. What you’re ignoring is that the decade isn’t water under the bridge. Accept each other as you are today.”

“I’ve always accepted him as he is.”

“Yes, but you are a different person. He’s got to deal with the bombshell, grown-up version of the girl he left behind. He’s got to find his place in your world, and thank God you stood up for yourself today.”

“Wasn’t it immature to stomp away and slam his door?”

“Maybe, but you sent a message. Achilles grew up in shit. He went into the Marines and saw things we only hear about, and continues his life in public service. He’s rough, gritty, and self-deprecating.”

“You don’t know him like I do. He’s deep, thoughtful, loving, and selfless. He fought for his mom, he fought for this country, and now he’s building a career around protecting his community. He may be rough, but to me, it’s everything,” I defend, my anger shifting toward her.

She flashes her perceptive smile and walks forward, grabbing my face and smacking a loud kiss on my forehead. “That’s exactly right, Jay. He’s your everything. Make sure to keep your spunk while taming his beast.”

Her words penetrate deep, and I know she played me a bit. “Sometimes I hate you took all those psychology classes.”

“Being a Social Worker requires a lot of mental adaptabilities. I swear to God, as your best friend, he will figure it out along with you. But know you probably can’t change his possessive tendencies. There’s bound to be a few clashes along the way.”

“You think it’s real this time?” I almost whisper.

“It’s the most real thing I’ve ever witnessed. If we had last night alone, I could have been a little more thorough in my delivery. But don’t become submissive to him. This isn’t even close to being over with him. Have your spat, stand your ground, and be strong. Don’t lose yourself.”

“My barstools are still empty.” Tom appears balancing two boxes, eyeing me carefully.

“I have faith they’ll fill up soon.” I send an apologetic grin.

“Good,” he replies brusquely, “get to work.”

“You know, Tom, maybe you should consider implementing a ladies’ night.” I try to lighten the mood.

“Why the hell would I do that? Ladies’ nights come with too many headaches. I have enough headaches with you two.”