Arlo gave a watery smile, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. Dimitri. Arlo lifted his hand, closing his eyes, allowing his own thumb to trace the pattern Dimitri’s had taken just seconds before Holden had ruined everything. Arlo had thought he might kiss him. He’d looked into his eyes with such…intensity.
But that was Dimitri. Intense. He was like some brooding YA hero. Tall and muscled, chestnut hair swept away from his perfectly chiseled square jaw, and pillowy lips that Arlo dreamed of feeling on his. Not that he ever would, especially not after what had just happened in the shop.
Arlo took another swig of his drink just as Dimitri’s voice came from the other side of the door. “You know, I would keep you safe…if you would just let me.”
“What?” Arlo asked, breathless.
There was no answer. Dimitri must have walked away. Who said something like that and then just walked away? Dimitri. He was complex; contemplative and quiet one minute, laughing and joking with moronic frat boys the next. Jekyll and Hyde. Arlo had no way of knowing which was the real Dimitri. He clearly had no ability to gauge who people truly were on the inside.
Arlo’s mother used to joke that if they’d set him loose in a room full of angels, he’d find the demon hiding in their midst. And then, he’d try to date him. She wasn’t wrong. His mom said he was just attention seeking. His therapist called it a destructive pattern. A cycle of abuse. Only, instead of Arlo becoming the abuser, he just kept casting himself as the victim.
Logically, Arlo knew it was true. He knew the signs and even had a whole pamphlet with a handy-dandy checklist with the snappy BuzzFeed-like title, ‘How to Tell if You’re the Victim of Intimate Partner Violence.’That was what they called it now. Intimate partner violence. Was there intimacy in that? Nothing Arlo had ever done with Holden felt intimate anymore. Maybe it never had.
Arlo hadn’t loved Holden. There wasn’t much to love about him. He was a closeted, entitled, one-percenter, who had been told he was a catch his whole life. Still, he’d paid attention to Arlo, complimented him, romanced him. And Arlo knew in his gut there was a barely contained rage brewing just beneath Holden’s surface. But he’d ignored it, like he always did. Why?
Because it felt familiar, normal. Besides, who else was going to want Arlo? He was pretty, too, but not in the way Dimitri was. He was big and strong and fit right in with every crowd. Arlo was too pretty, too feminine, too soft. Too mentally damaged. Too needy. Always so fucking needy.
Holden had made him forget that for a while. The beginnings were always the best. The love bombing, the courtship, the honeymoon phase. It was a roller coaster climbing to the peak, exhilarating. But, inevitably, the car tipped and then came the pain, the excuses, the gaslighting, and just when it felt like Arlo couldn’t take one more second of the abuse, the love bombing started all over again. On and on and on.
He just wanted somebody to love him as he was. Was it so wrong to want just one person to look at him and see something worth loving? His therapist told him love shouldn’t hurt, but it was the only kind of love he’d known.
Except for Dimitri.
Dimitri had been protecting Arlo since they were both little. They’d met when they were practically babies, back when Arlo’s parents were still pretending they had the perfect suburban dream. Dimitri had blown it all up. Literally. But Arlo wasn’t mad. He’d done it to protect him. Dimitri was the only person who’d ever tried to protect him.
Dimitri didn’t think Arlo remembered him. When he’d met him on the first day of work, he’d seen that spark of recognition, but then Dimitri had just held out a hand and introduced himself, so Arlo had done the same. What was he going to say? Aren’t you the kid who set my parents’ bed on fire?
Yet, in the four years they’d worked in the coffee shop, Dimitri had never once mentioned it, never once brought it up. But he was still very protective of him…just in a boring, platonic way. Arlo didn’t blame him. Girls and guys constantly threw themselves at Dimitri, and though he never seemed to be interested in any of them, he definitely enjoyed the attention.
Dimitri’s muffled voice came through the door once more. “Hey, I’m not trying to rush you, but it’s ten ‘til three.”
“I’m coming,” Arlo said.
The three o’clock onslaught was the worst. They would be slammed in waves until closing. He shook thoughts of Dimitri away, splashing cold water on his face and drying his hands before he returned to the front, replacing his apron and hoping his face wasn’t too puffy.
Dimitri was helping a girl in a low-cut top and jean shorts that definitely didn’t cover her ample ass. She stood with her hip cocked against the counter and her arms folded under her large chest. Arlo was somewhat appeased by Dimitri’s seeming indifference towards the ginger-haired girl’s obvious efforts. When he saw Arlo, he caught his gaze and held it before giving him a lopsided smile that Arlo felt like a caress.
After what felt like an eternity, Dimitri returned his attention to the customer, leaving Arlo standing there, adrift. He shook his head, throwing his apron back on and nailing his fake smile into place before turning around.
“I can help the next customer over here.”
* * *
For the next five hours, they worked side by side in the chaos. It was a carefully choreographed dance they’d done a hundred times before, easily slipping around each other, arms touching, sides brushing, Arlo ducking under Dimitri’s arm so he didn’t have to slow his process.
The routine was just what Arlo needed to push thoughts of everything but work aside, and if his mind started to wander, Dimitri would pull him back with a gentle nudge, pointing him towards the throng of people in line.
As always, the coffee shop became a ghost town at nine-thirty, the students abandoning Hallowed Grounds for the Starbucks on the other side of campus. It was a much bigger storefront and was open until midnight. That suited Arlo and Dimitri just fine. They could check off their closing tasks and maybe get out of there at a reasonable time.
Dimitri deserved to get off at a reasonable time. He’d been there since they opened, only staying behind to get out of going to that party with Mandy. “You can go, you know. I can close up here. I don’t mind.”
Dimitri stopped cleaning, pointing his frown at Arlo. “What? No. I’m not leaving you here alone.”
Arlo gave a humorless laugh. “I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”
Dimitri didn’t laugh back, didn’t even so much as crack a smile. “I’m not going. It’s only thirty minutes, then we can leave together.”
Together…Arlo wished.
