Avery, whose brave smile was slipping. “I mean. It doesn’t have to be a big thing. Like, dinner isn’t a big thing. But I like you. I don’t know if you’ve noticed that. I mean. Maybe you have. I guess. But . . .”
Fuck.
“Avery.”
His smile faded more. “Or we could—”
“I’m with someone.”
Avery’s eyes bugged wider, and his mouth dropped open. And then he shivered and snapped his jaw shut. Watching him pull himself together again hurt more than letting him down easy.
“That’s cool.” Avery ran a hand over his hair, and the motion made Oliver’s throat tighten. Had he done that on purpose? Combed it out? Tried to look like someone Oliver would want to go out on a date with?
“I’m really flattered.”
“Is it that guy?”
Oliver frowned. “Which guy?”
“The—” He poked a thumb toward the door. “The fancy...Um, the hot guy who just left? He was, like, really good-looking. I’d understand if you were with him.”
Oliver put his hands on his face and groaned, all efforts to keep this from getting awkward destroyed. Fuck Cooper—again—more—for showing up in the middle of this mess. “No. No, it wasn’t him. It’s someone else.”
“Oh.”
Oliver tried to smile. “I’m really sorry. It’s very flattering, but—”
“No!” Avery raised his hands. “No, it’s cool. I understand. It was just a thought.” He backed away, toward the door, and Oliver let him. Asking him to stay longer would only make it worse for them both.
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
“Totally fine!” Avery’s smile was heartbreaking. “I shouldn’t have asked. It’s fine. I won’t—I won’t bother you.” He stumbled when his shoulder hit the door, and he flung it open, making it crash against the wall.
Oliver winced as the glass rattled. “Avery.”
“No, it’s cool. I won’t—” The poor kid fled.
The shop fell silent.
“Fuck.”
Oliver went to the door and locked it, turning the sign over in the window. They were closed. He was closed. He’d had more than enough for one day, and it wasn’t even lunch time.
He slumped in the chair that Cooper had sat in so recently, growling as he scrubbed at his face with his knuckles.
He pulled out his phone and called Nick.
Hey honey, how’s your day been?
You’ll never guess what happened to me!
I should have let you take me home and fuck me like you wanted to.
If Oliver had let Nick have his way, every way, the night before, how much of this could have been avoided?
The call went to voicemail.
“Hey, it’s me. It’s Oliver. Um...you’re probably asleep after your shift. Call me when you wake up. I want to see you. Okay. Bye.”
