“Holy shit, itis,” I blurted.
Somehow, I hadn’t fully believed it. Maybe I hadn’t wanted to.
I mean, he’d never talked about guys when we were growing up, only an endless parade of women. We’d shared everything back then—he’d been one of the first people I’d come out to when I realized I was bi—but he’d never suggested he was anything but heterosexual. Maybe he hadn’t known yet.
He shot me a sideways look. “You can stop looking at me like a bug under a microscope anytime now.”
“Sorry. Shit, sorry.” I ran both hands through my hair and tried to temper my anger into something supportive. I had a lot of genuine issues with Jay, but this obviously wasn’t one. “For what it’s worth, a lot of guys don’t realize they’re bi until later in life. Take Fenn’s boyfriend, Mason, for example. Or… Do you know the singer Ari Friedrich? He’s fucking phenomenal, andhejust came out as bi last—”
“It’s not new, Rafe,” Jay said dryly. “And I’m not bi.”
“Oh.” I was back to staring at him again. I knew every line of that face as well as I knew my own, even after years of not seeing it. The little freckle behind his ear, the notch in his right eyebrow, the way the ends of his hair curled up when he got sweaty. But I clearly hadn’t known him as well as I thought I had.
Hearing him say those words was like scratching an old wound. With every look and every smile we’d exchanged during our summers together, I’d had to remind myself, “He loves you as much as he can, Rafe. He can’t love you back the way you want him to.” Except hecouldhave. He just hadn’t.
Ouch.
And the fact that he’d kept all that to himself was a painful reminder that I’d been way more invested in our friendship than he ever had… which was why he’d walked away from it.
“Where’m I goin’?” Jay demanded when the rental car’s tires hit the bridge to Cooter Key. He held back his hair with one long-fingered hand, and the muscles in his arms flexed.
“Mitchell’s. Half a mile up,” I said gruffly, disgusted with myself for wanting the guy, even still. “Take a left and it’s on your right.”
He pulled into the parking lot of Mitchell’s Fine Family Dining and found the lone remaining spot in the shade. He contemplated the restaurant in the rearview mirror. “How likely am I to be recognized in there? I’ve got a baseball hat, but it can only do so much.”
I wasn’t the person to ask. I’d recognize Jay Rollins in the dark on instinct alone, even though that was a skill I’d pay someone to take away.
But since the parking lot was half-full, and word of Jayd Rollins crashing the Extravaganza Committee meeting was probably burning up the phone lines on Whispering Key, I had to think I wasn’t the only one who’d spot him.
“Pretty likely that people will be looking for us. It’s too hot for most folks to sit outside, though. Grab one of those picnic tables.” I tilted my head. “I’ll order at the outside window.”
I didn’t wait for Jay to agree or even ask what he wanted, and it wasn’t until I was carrying a plastic tray loaded with cups of beer and plates of delicious fried food to a table shaded by a huge umbrella that I realized he probably didn’t eat conch fritters anymore. His leanly muscled body suggested he ate a diet of organic grass and filtered fairy tears.
Oh, well. More for me.
The afternoon sun really was brutally hot, but the breeze made the temperature almost bearable… for someone used to it, anyway. Jay’s face was already flushed, and his hair curled damply around the bottom of his cap as he engaged in a stare-down with a small flock of seagulls attacking some abandoned french fries nearby.
Unwillingly, I remembered Jay’s phobia of birds, especially seagulls.
“They’re descended from dinosaurs,” he used to say in a fearful whisper. “Don’t let the feathers fool you.”
I dropped the tray in the center of the table with a clatter. Jay reached for one of the beers and downed a third of it without comment while I was still busy contorting my long legs into the bench seat.
“Any other invasive questions about my sexuality you’d like to ask before we get to business?” he demanded the second my ass touched the wood.
I took a fritter from a plastic basket, dipped it in the spicy sauce, and answered frankly, “Tons.” I popped the whole fritter in my mouth and nearly groaned at the taste.
Littlejohn was right; Caroline’s brother couldn’t beallbad if he could make fritters like this.
Jay stared at my mouth as I chewed for a full ten seconds, then looked away in disgust.
“Too bad, ’cause it’s none of your damn business. It’s my turn to get information.” He lifted his hat and dragged a hand through his hair impatiently. “Tell me what’s going on with Aimee. And I mean thewholestory.”
“You’re barking up the wrong tree, Jay Don. I haven’t talked to her in sixteen months.”
“Bullshit.”
My eyes locked on his. “No,” I said slowly. “Not a single phone call, text, or Christmas card. Dead radio silence since the day she left.” And yeah, I was just a trifle bitter about that. “When a Rollins is done with you, they’re done.Youshould know that. You practically invented the rule.”
