“I only did it the first time to help you because I’m an idiot,” Tom hissed angrily. “After that, it’s all on you. We’re not dating. You can’t keep making me do this—”
“I can, and I will,” Junior snapped, getting right in Tom’s face and grabbing his wrist. “You wanna keep working here? You wanna keep your license? Then you’re going to do exactly as I say.”
“Let go of me,” Tom growled, his entire body tensing up.
“Or else what?” Junior scoffed. “You gonna tell Mr. Crosby I was roughing you up? Well, you gotta explain why—”
The keypad sounded the door opening, and Aaron popped back in with a frown. “I thought you were coming back so we could talk about stuffing people with newspaper.” He narrowed his eyes, spying Junior’s hand on Tom. “Hey, what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Tom said quickly, jerking away from Junior.
“Just having a conversation.” Junior scowled.
“Yeah?” Aaron huffed in reply. “How about you go check the fax machine for me? I’m waiting for a death notice confirmation.”
Junior glared, but he wouldn’t dare argue with Aaron. Even though Aaron hadn’t been licensed for very long, he had done his apprenticeship with Gerald, and the crazy ol’ king of dicks loved him.
Probably more than his own dickhole son, Tom had often thought.
“Sure,” Junior spat, backing off with a strained smile. “No problem.” He glanced at his watch, a big and shining hunk of metal that probably cost more than a car. He looked to Tom, saying firmly, “Tonight. Okay?”
“Whatever,” Tom muttered, waiting for Junior to leave and the door to shut before sighing in relief.
“Are you okay?” Aaron asked with a concerned frown. “Is he bothering you?”
“I’m fine,” Tom fibbed.
“Look, I know you guys had a ‘thing.’” Aaron raised his hands to make little air quotes. “But if he’s messing with you, I can talk to Gerald—”
“No, I can handle it.” Tom smiled, trying to exude more confidence than he felt.
Aaron didn’t know what had happened. No one had any idea what sort of trouble Tom had gotten himself into.
After several steamy nights together, Junior had claimed he needed help settling a debt with some bad people. He had bought drugs on credit, and now they were coming to collect. Tom had been so smitten that he was willing to do anything for him. All Junior needed Tom to do was help him sell a few cases of formaldehyde, the bulk of which was kept locked up inside the prep room.
It would only be a one-time thing, Junior promised. One time, and then he was going to get clean.
Now six months later, long after he’d dumped Junior for being a raging asshole, Tom was still trapped peddling embalming fluid for his ex. It was illegal, it was stupid, and Tom had no idea how to stop without also implicating himself in the crime.
“I can totally talk to Gerald,” Aaron stubbornly insisted. “If it came down to keeping you or Junior, I’m pretty sure he would be fine with firing his rotten ass kid.”
“I appreciate it.” Tom gestured to the office door. “So, uh, anyway, why don’t we get back to talking about restoration? You still wanna know?”
“You’re totally changing the subject,” Aaron accused, “but I really wanna know how you do that shit so I’m going to allow it… for now.” He opened the door and held it for Tom, smiling again as he cheered, “So, tell me everything.”
“You got it.”
As Tom led the way, he tried to focus on sharing his years of experience and ignore what was ahead of him later tonight. He could spend the rest of his shift entertaining Aaron, avoiding Junior, and daydreaming about Cypress’s bright smile.
He hoped they would get to see each other again soon. He was dying to find out what Cypress thought he looked like.
Maybe a bank teller? An accountant? No, maybe a comic book artist, something geeky but cool.
Maybe he thinks you look like a good boy…
The mere recollection of the exchange made Tom shiver. No one had ever called him that before, and he still didn’t fully understand why it was having such an effect on him.
Although he was sure Cypress hadn’t meant it to be sexual any more than when he’d told Gerald to suck his dick, there was still a flicker of hope that he was wrong.
