His gaze drifted toward the drink Sier had poured him, the fifth one in the past ten minutes, and Annya’s earlier concern came back to him.
“It’s not Mit Parker,” he asked, voice low and somewhat shaky, “is it?”
Everyone grew quiet and turned to stare at Sier expectantly. Not a single one said anything about that being a wild suggestion. They all must be thinking the same as him. Mit Parker had been the only one who’d shown even a slight interest in the shop these past few months.
Interest in Nate, really.
But…enough to buy the place? Nate had done a decent enough job of rejecting the older man’s advances. He’d hopedMit had taken the hint since it’d been weeks since he’d come around the shop. Could the reason for that be because he’d been getting the paperwork in order? Planning to buy?
Mit Parker was known for being disgusting, but this would be extreme.
Nate internally shook his head at himself and the direction his thoughts had taken. He was self-aware enough to admit he was an attractive person, sure, but he was nowhere near hot enough to justify buying a whole business. He was being ridiculous, his paranoia getting the best of him. No one in their right mind would ever—
“Ah, here he is now,” Sier said, turning to clap as someone slipped into the private corner of the restaurant their group occupied.
Because she hadn’t answered the question, Nate half expected Mit Parker, so when he glanced up and found a tall, young man in place of the withered old dude he’d anticipated, it took his brain a little longer to process his identity.
“Let’s all give a hand to Kazimir Ambrose,” Sier announced as the Devil came to a stop at her side. “The new owner of Quartet Air!”
The mutual hesitation only lasted a moment before everyone seated at the circular booth started to clap, though the confusion lingered. It was obvious in the way everyone was glancing at each other and then over at Nate, their gazes remaining on him a little longer than he would have been comfortable with if he’d been paying them much attention.
Which he was not, because he was far too distracted by the smug expression Kaz had aimed his way.
He’d clearly just come from campus, still dressed in his black button-up silk shirt, the school’s official crest pinned to the belt he wore secured around his matching jeans. In the dimlighting of the restaurant, dressed in all black, he looked like a demon straight from hell come to collect his due.
Only, Nate stood by what he’d said. He didn’t owe the guy anything, and this…this was too much.
He was on his feet before he even processed what he intended, ignoring Annya when she grabbed onto his wrist and tried to tug him back down onto the crimson leather seat. Pulling away from her, he tore his eyes off Kazimir and pushed past the two coworkers who were blocking the exit to the booth. Once out, he turned on his heels and headed toward the back of the restaurant, recalling that there was a door there that would lead to the employee parking lot.
He had enough of a mind not to make a scene here in front of everyone, but there was no way he was staying. No way he was going to sit there and listen to whatever bullshit Kazimir was about to spout.
He’d bought the shop?
Him?
To what end?
Nate ran a hand through his hair, tugging roughly at the dark strands as panic threatened to consume him. This couldn’t be real. All these years, he’d been able to keep his shit together and make it through, and now this? Why? Because he’d lost one race? That couldn’t actually be it…That couldn’t be the reason his entire life fell apart.
Someone called his name but he ignored it, traveling through the back of the restaurant, down the narrow hallway that led to the employee break room and the bathrooms. There was a green door set between where the hall branched off and Nate shoved it open, stepping out into the cold night air.
He’d driven there and parked in the front, so started making his way around the exterior of the brick building, head tipped down as his thoughts continued to gnaw at him. If hemade it to his car within the next three minutes, he could be back home and in his shower in under—
“Hey.” A strong hand grabbed at the collar of his jacket and yanked him back, tossing him hard against the brick. Kazimir crowded him in a second later, his boots crunching in the thin layer of ice and snow on the ground. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Nate didn’t respond, pressing against Kaz’s solid chest in a poor attempt to get him to move. That darkness was still threatening to weigh in on him, and if he didn’t get out of there fast, he might find himself spacing out in a last-ditch attempt to keep his mind from completely drowning in negative thoughts.
Like how he hadn’t been good enough to take Bay’s place during that race and he’d known it. How that should have been enough for him to tell Madden no, but he’d foolishly been excited to give his skills a test of sorts and see how he’d come out.
How he’d been the one who’d drank so much at the bar, and that’s why Kazimir had been able to get the upper hand.
How Silver knew about his racing and was coming for a visit, and his threat that Nate had to get his shit together…
Get his shit together?
He couldn’t even breathe! Forget—
“Hey,” the word held less bite than when he’d spoken it a second ago, and Kazimir’s angry look shifted, morphing into one more akin to concern. “Hey, take a breath, Pretty Boy, I don’t like the way you’re looking.”
