“You were distracting me,” he said, biting his lip as he reached up to brush a raindrop off the tip of Jake’s nose.
“Was I?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“How so?” Jake was still grinning, and his eyes twinkled, warm and kind.
Rye swallowed hard, and his gaze flitted down to Jake’s lips for half a second. A long, drawn-out half a second. “I, uh...”
The rain began to fall harder, but neither of them moved, and for another few seconds, Rye just stared up at Jake, holding his breath.
What would it feel like to have had Jake’s lips brush against his temple, rather than Jake’s fingers? He tensed, waiting for the unpleasant swoop of his stomach that he’d always get whenever he thought about maybe saying yes to Jake, maybe letting Jake kiss him.
But it didn’t come. The opposite happened, in fact—that tiny flutter, a tug of want. He...wantedJake to kiss him?
Maybe not here in the rain. Not here on the street, in public, in the rain.
And maybe... he should sit with the feeling for a little while. Maybe he should wait. Maybe he should be sure.
“We should go?” Jake said, though he sounded uncertain, like it was a question.
Rye blinked and then nodded. “Y-yeah. Yeah, let’s go.”
Thestorewasbusy.Notreallybusy, but busier than normal for a Wednesday afternoon, and Jake and Rye had to park on the street rather than in one of the few spots in the tiny parking lot. When they stepped in out of the rain, Rye immediately looked toward the cash register, expecting his mom’s smiling face to greet them. However, she was nowhere in sight, and instead, Campbell, the other cashier who worked at the store, was behind the cash register.
Rye frowned. He’d been looking forward to seeing his mom, and he wasn’t sure where she might be, although, he supposed, sometimes she had to take her lunch break a little later than usual. That was probably the case today.
Jake’s hand pressed into his back. “Do you have the list?”
Rye managed to get his feet to unstick, and with a nod, he turned and grabbed a small basket from the stack next to the door. He looped his arm through the handles and reached into his pocket to pull out his phone. Then he frowned again. The screen was lit up with a text message notification from his mom.
He held up the phone to show Jake, and then, as they shifted out of the entryway and toward the store’s small produce section, Rye tapped on the notification.
Mom (12:42 p.m.):Hi sweetie! Hope you’re having a wonderful day! I’m going to be out on my lunch break until 2 today, so looks like I’m going to miss you when you come in. Can you ask Jake to call me when you get a chance? I have something I need to talk to you both about (easier than texting, if Jake can call). Thanks! Love you!!! XOXOXO
“Everything okay?” Jake’s hand shifted up Rye’s back a little as Rye stopped again. He nodded, but still frowned as he lifted the phone to let Jake read the message. “...Ah, okay. Want me to call her now, or should we shop first?”
Rye lifted his eyebrows at Jake and shook his head, then he handed Jake his phone.
“Call now? Right, yeah, sorry for the multiple-question question. Okay. Here, let’s...” Jake took the phone and motioned with his free hand toward the produce section. They moved farther into the store together and then stopped as Jake hit the call button and turned on the speaker phone feature, adjusting the volume down to keep their conversation as private as possible.
Rye looked down at the ground as the phone rang once and then twice.
His mom answered, her voice happy. “Oh, I’m so glad you called! Jake, is that you?”
“Yes, ma’am. Rye’s here with me. We just got to the store and got your message.”
“Oh, no, don’t you ‘ma’am’ me, that makes me feel really old,” Rye heard his mom say, and he pursed his lips to hold back a laugh.
Jake slipped his free arm slowly around Rye’s shoulders. “Sorry, Shirley. You’re right. How are you? Having a good lunch?”
“Yes! In fact . . .”
Jake and Rye started wandering forward as Rye’s mom chatted with Jake for a few minutes. Rye picked out a good-sized onion and some chives, then led the way toward where the meat was near the back of the store. Just as they stopped in front of the selection of chicken, Rye’s mom paused.
“So... the reason I wanted you to call was, Rye, sweetie, your aunt invited me to head with her to San Francisco tonight. She’s got tickets to see the symphony. Jon was supposed to go with her, but he’s not feeling well. I think he got hit with that stomach bug Tanya had last week, you remember, dear?”
Rye frowned, but nodded.
