Trouble & the Wallflower (6 page)

Davy’s black V-neck was obviously just an undershirt. It was thin and looked soft, much like Davy. Oh yes, Davy had muscles in all the right places. His pecs were nicely rounded and his biceps bulged just enough to stretch the short sleeves. But he was still soft. He looked like someone you’d hug for hours and never get tired of it. He obviously played some kind of sport or worked out regularly, because that was not a body genetically gifted. And damn if Gavin wasn’t having the hardest time keeping his hands off it.

He was annoyed when Sean looked at his phone and announced it was time for him to go, and Mason followed suit. He wasn’t finished drinking in Davy. He needed more time. He knew no matter how drunk the kid got, he’d never get laid. Dammit if that didn’t make him like Davy more. Who’d’ve known scruples would be a turn-on for Gavin Walker?

After everyone shared bro hugs and agreed they’d do it again, it was just Davy and Gavin again. Gavin paid their tab, telling Davy not to worry about it. “Well, since you paid the tab, let me buy dinner. Is there anything open? I’m starving.” Gavin almost tripped over his own feet, shocked that Davy wasn’t running as fast as possible from spending time alone with him.

“Uh, Dick’s is open.”

Davy sniggered. Oh yeah, he was good and toasted. “Dick’s?”

“That’s very mature of you, David.”

Davy cocked his head, looking at Gavin strangely. “It’s just Davy. No David.” It was delivered very matter-of-factly. Gavin wasn’t sure if he’d just been told off or if it was just a friendly correction.

“Sorry.”

“No. It’s cool. You wouldn’t be the first to make the mistake.”

“Well,
Davy
, do you want Dick’s?”

“Um, I guess. I’ve never eaten there.”

Gavin grabbed his heart in mock offense. “And you say you’ve lived here your whole life?”

“Born and raised here in King County.”

“And you’ve never had Dick’s? It’s, like, one of the treasures of Seattle!”

Davy glared at him quickly, then seemed to pull his shy façade back over him like a comfortable blanket.
Shit.
“Hey, Davy, what’s that all about? What’d I say?”

Davy chewed his tongue for a moment before he responded. “It’s me, really. I’ve never been good with getting teased. I don’t read social cues very well. I, uh, didn’t get to be around a lot of people my age until I got my job at the soda shop.”

“Oh?” Gavin didn’t want to fuck up again. He’d been waiting forever for some little tidbit about this man. He wasn’t sure why Davy was so intriguing. Maybe it
was
because he couldn’t have him. Normally he wouldn’t look twice at someone as shy as this guy was. But he wanted to know Davy, and if it required him keeping his fool mouth closed for once in his damn life, he could do it. So all he did was start walking in the direction of Dick’s waving for Davy to follow.

Davy was silent for the rest of the walk. He didn’t say anything again until he requested a large order of fries and a chocolate shake. Gavin somehow didn’t imagine it was going to help his libido any to watch Davy suck a straw for the next fifteen minutes.

He was right. Those rosy lips wrapped around the straw, Davy’s cheeks caving in as he sucked, and Gavin almost had to excuse himself to the bathroom. Then Davy’s wicked tongue would sneak out to lick the salt off his lips and there was no need for the bathroom. He was fairly certain he’d creamed his jeans. Now a cigarette and a bed would complete the night.

How in the hell did Davy have that kind of power over him?

They ate silently, Gavin watching the crowd thin until there were only two couples other than them. He and Davy finished eating, so he collected their trash and dumped it into the bin. He turned to say something to Davy, but he hadn’t followed. He was still sitting in the booth, eyes downcast. Gavin felt a frown pulling the corners of his mouth.
Please don’t let him be a crybaby drunk.

“Hey, Davy? Ready to go?”

“Can we just sit here for a minute?” Gavin studied Davy for a moment, not sure what to make of him. Davy took it as a no and started stammering. “Never mind. It was dumb. Sorry.” He’d not looked up once since he’d asked if they could stay, and tried to shuffle out of the booth. Gavin placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back down into the booth.

“Dude, chill. I got nothing but time, ’kay? It’s all good.”

Davy gazed out the window looking particularly miserable, embarrassed.

“What’s wrong?” Gavin hated to push, but he really wanted to figure out these weird triggers of Davy’s.

“Sorry.” Davy finally looked at him, eyes a bit watery. “I promise I’m not a crier when I drink. I just don’t do well with people. I hate embarrassing myself.”

Gavin placed his hand over Davy’s on the table and tried to sound as encouraging as possible. “You did nothing embarrassing. I just couldn’t tell if something was wrong. You seem bummed. That’s all.”

Davy stared at Gavin’s hand covering his for a long minute, then pulled his away and put it in his lap. “I was homeschooled. I couldn’t remember if I told you that.”

“No. You didn’t. That’s cool.” It explained it a little, but Gavin knew plenty of homeschooled kids who were way less shy than Davy.

“Not really. It wasn’t cool. I wanted to go to school.” Guilt flashed over Davy’s face. “Homeschooling would have been cool, but my mom wouldn’t really let me do any of the group stuff.”

“Why so?”

Davy grimaced. “She had panic attacks. Uh, something bad happened and she stopped leaving the house. Therefore, neither did I.”

The pieces fell into place so loudly in Gavin’s mind that it sounded like a game of Bunko rattling in his brain. “Is that who you live with now?”

Pure sorrow surrounded Davy. From his posture to his frown. “No. She died about a year ago. Aneurysm. It’s just me now.”

Oh, Davy.

“I’m so sorry.”

Davy’s chin trembled, but he never shed a tear. “Thanks. It was sudden, so I’m still caught off guard by the fact she’s gone, sometimes.”

Gavin didn’t know what it was like to miss your mother. He would never miss his. He was glad it wouldn’t eat at him like it did Davy, but he knew he’d break like this if something happened to Ray. He definitely understood the loss. “What was her name?”

“Mona.” Davy didn’t look up from his hands in his lap. “She was a good mom. I wish she’d done some stuff different, but she was good.”

“I’m sure she was.” Gavin hated seeing Davy so down, so he thought it’d be wise to direct the conversation back to where they’d started. “So what do you do? Sit in your apartment by yourself?” That seemed so sad.

“I work a lot, as you well know”
—
that was pointedly accusatory
—
“and I do online classes. I don’t get much chance to meet people, but I’m sure you’ve noticed I’m not great with people anyways, so I don’t ever know what to do when I get the chance to try to be friends with someone.” He chewed on his tongue, obviously a nervous habit, then laughed derisively. “Like now. You guys were great. You only hit on me the one time. Sean and Mason did their best to help me fit in, and here I am being a freak and dumping my shit on you.”

“Davy, that’s what friends are for.”
Friends don’t want to kiss it all better, though, Gavin.

“I guess, but I still feel like an idiot.”

“Don’t. Just, if you need to talk or just need to sit somewhere and be quiet but have someone else around, I’ll be here, ’kay. Just a friend. No judgment.”

Davy gave a small smile. It wasn’t incredibly encouraging, but it was an improvement. “Give me a sec,” Gavin said. He ran to the counter and asked to borrow a pen. He pulled a napkin out of the dispenser and jotted down his number. He was surprised to find he really had no ulterior motive this time. He smiled at the girl who’d let him borrow the pen and thanked her before returning to the table and passing his number to Davy. “Use it. Please. Coffee, a movie, help with your fucking homework. Me and Sean can take you out and get you drunk. Whatever. You want friends, you got ’em.” He couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. No matter how sexy the guy was, he was clearly not Gavin’s type and vice versa, but friends they could definitely do.

Davy looked at the napkin for a moment, then smiled sweetly. That was definitely an improvement. He folded the napkin neatly and put it away in his wallet. Gavin couldn’t help but smile too. “Can we stay just a little while longer?” Davy asked quietly.

“Of course we can,” Gavin said warmly. “As long as you want.”

D
AVY
LOOKED
longingly out the front windows of the soda shop. After a week of constant gray skies and drizzling rain, they’d had another unseasonably warm, sunny day that had given way to a beautifully clear night. Davy had picked up a second shift to help out one of the girls he worked with, so he’d been in the shop from early morning and would be around until close. He’d been alone behind the counter all day save for the hour or so that the owner, Henry, had come in. It was still off-season and a Tuesday, so even the park had been unusually empty most of the day.

He was surprised how bored he’d been without Gavin or one of his crew popping in throughout the day. Since their night out two weeks earlier, it was as if they’d come in every day to say hello, Gavin reminding him, “I only said I’d stay away if you had a horrible time.” Davy had to admit he’d had a great time. He was still mortified how much the drinking had loosened his tongue, especially with Gavin. There was something else, though, about Gavin that made Davy want to open up to him some.

Davy hadn’t had a friend in a long time. When Gavin stopped with the innuendos and extended an offer of friendship, Davy latched on to it like a love-starved orphan from a third-world country. He was a little embarrassed about how he’d acted at Dick’s, but Gavin made a point of acting as though those last, maudlin moments at Dick’s hadn’t happened. Davy was eternally grateful, especially when Sean and Mason also made sure to pop in the shop on their breaks to say hi or ask if he wanted to have lunch with them. Their other friends Nate and Devon only came when it was the entire group, and Nate was a bit cold in his demeanor toward Davy. Davy wasn’t sure why, but Nate made him uncomfortable. Then again, who didn’t?

Gavin was his most constant visitor, though. Gavin would swagger in after class under the guise of getting peanut-butter shakes for his grandfather, but after a few days, he’d dropped the pretense and would just wander in and sit at one of the stools at the counter and talk about inconsequential things.

Davy learned a few precious details about his new friends. Since he still wasn’t one for talking, they’d talk and he’d listen and smile at their stories. Sean’s parents were from Columbia, but, like Davy, he’d been born and raised in Seattle. When he was annoyed he’d go on tirades in Spanish, but that was rare. Mason was from some small town in Texas and had moved up to Seattle for college but had dropped out after a year and decided not to leave. He was so laid-back Davy was surprised the guy wasn’t catatonic.

Both Sean and Mason worked across the street in the market, Mason in a coffee shop and Sean in the comic store. Then there was Devon, who tossed fish. He was sexy as sin, but his permanent dopey grin and good nature made him approachable. He was, by definition, a total airhead, but he was really nice. Devon was also quiet, like Davy—well, not in a shy way, just in a man-of-few-words way.

Gavin, on the other hand, was a full-time student who lived with his grandfather after moving from Maine. He lived off some trust that he insisted wasn’t impressive, but it was nice enough that he drove around in a rather large new-model Ford truck. Why he needed such a big truck in Seattle was anyone’s guess.

Davy was surprised when he found out Gavin was an art major at the University of Washington. He didn’t seem very artsy or like one for school, but Sean had assured Davy that Gavin was in fact in the top 10 percent of the art department as far as grades went. When he’d found that out, you could have knocked Davy over with a feather.

This had been the first day none of them had stopped in, though. So with the lack of customers or busywork, Davy had time to realize that in just a couple of weeks, he’d actually grown accustomed to having people around—other than his worrywart uncle. Who’d’ve thunk it? Which made not seeing any of them after such a long, boring day a major bummer, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it.