7
Jake
We finally made our way back to The Escape, after several traffic stops and a vandalism call. The venue was far more crowded now, with dozens of kids and their parents filling the alley. I was pretty sure at least half the town was there. A few people were using spray paint to create new designs on the walls. Two boys ran by, chasing a girl with long blonde pigtails, while a group of kids were beating sticks against some upturned buckets like a drum. Amelia and the same woman she had been working with earlier were dancing in the middle of a bunch of girls, each wearing a pair of fairy wings.
As I walked by, I greeted Preston, who was helping a teenager paint a leopard on the wall. I had to glance twice at the boy, his bright pink shirt and bleached blond hair made the thick black lines of his eyeliner pop. He had two silver earrings and a lip ring that gave him an edgy vibe. I’d seen him around and when I asked Brad if he was someone I needed to keep an eye on, he’d laughed and shaken his head, saying Wesley was just another misunderstood teen in their last year of high school who hid their heart of gold under a bad attitude and interesting choice of clothes.
Reyes wasn’t at the HotShots table when we approached. Instead, a young woman in a company shirt waited expectantly, ready to answer any questions.
I paused in front of her. “Excuse me, will Reyes be working tonight?”
She frowned. “I don’t think so, sorry.”
I tried not to feel disappointed; it would have been nice to see him again.
Brad and I made our way over to the long buffet table to buy dinner, but as soon as we pulled our wallets out, the woman running the booth waved her hand in a dismissive gesture.
“Put those away. You guys are covered.”
“Oh, thank you,” Brad said. “Jake, this is Trish Little. She and her wife own The Puffed Puffin.”
“The place you got the cinnamon rolls from?” I asked, excited.
He nodded and I grinned while reaching for a plate. “Well, in that case…”
Trish chuckled. “Help yourself.”
There were a variety of mini sandwiches, pasta and potato salads, fruits and veggies, canned drinks, and a huge display with at least two hundred cupcakes. Those beckoned to me the most, so I reached for one of them first, earning a laugh from Brad.
“Be warned. They’re addictive,” he said.
“If it’s anything like that cinnamon roll…”
I let out a satisfied moan as soon as I took a bite, nearly making Trish’s pale cheeks turn the same shade of red as her hair. It wasdamngood, rich chocolate cake with whipped buttercream frosting and a caramel drizzle on top. I immediately reached for a second.
We wandered around for a few minutes before someone took the stage and gave a heartfelt speech about Elizabeth and The Escape. I saw several of the adults in the crowd wiping their eyes, remembering the girl who seemed to have been well loved in the community. Afterward, Elizabeth’s father sang a song with his guitar, dedicating it to her. I hadn’t known the girl, yet the emotions coming from the people around me tugged at my heartstrings. In a way, it reminded me of how the community knew me as a kid, growing up the son of a police chief.
As the night progressed, the air seemed to shift and crackle with a sort of magic. Everyone was happy and excited to be there, creating a unique kind of energy. There was rich laughter and joyful voices all around me. I also noticed there weren’t the usual cliques that one would typically find at an event like this. Everyone mingled freely, moving easily from group to group, talking and laughing with their friends or making new ones.
A band of five high schoolers dominated the stage for about an hour, performing a great mix of old and new songs. Despite the few missed notes and an occasional crack in the lead singer’s voice, they sounded good. Their confidence and joy making them shine. They even sang a few Indigo Rose songs, which made me wish Rey had been there with me.
Glancing back over at the sign-up table, I couldn’t help but smile. Reyeswashere, leaning stiffly against the wall. He didn’t look at all happy to be here though, feet crossed and arms folded across his chest as if he was defending himself against the world. Damn, he was just as beautiful as I remembered. Maybe even more so tonight than during our date, even with the grim expression. The dark denim of his jeans fit snugly to his hips and the HotShot’s red shirt showed off the ridges of his toned body.
I watched him a moment, feeling slightly unsure if I should go say hi. We hadn’t spoken since our date the week before, but I’d thought about him often. That night had been one of the best nights I’d had in a long time, and it wasn’t just that the sex had been phenomenal. I liked Reyes. That’s all there was to it. I enjoyed his company immensely. I liked his laugh, how he tangled our feet together during dinner, and how the corner of his mouth turned up when something I said amused him. We’d connected. I could feel it even now, when he was dozens of feet away.
As if sensing someone watching him, Reyes began looking around. When he saw me, I smiled and gave a hesitant wave. Some of the tension in his features faded as he waved back.
Reyes didn’t move from his place on the wall, but his gaze lingered, and I took that as a good sign. Stopping at the ice chest to grab a couple sodas, I made my way over and offered one to him. He hesitated but eventually accepted it without saying anything. The music and noise of the crowd made it impossible to hold a conversation anyway, so we let our body language do all the talking. His soulful blue eyes trailed over my body slowly before locking with mine again and that handsome smile appeared a second later. Sexy Eyes was happy to see me.
In between songs he leaned in to speak in my ear, “I saw you volunteered to be on the team.” He tilted his head at the table, which had been pressed up against the wall and off the dance floor.
I snorted. “More like volun-told,” I admitted. “Didn’t have much of a choice.”
He laughed. “I see. Well, I’m looking forward to it either way.” I didn’t miss the flicker of…somethingin his eyes. Excitement? Desire? Anticipation?
“Will you be playing or just helping?” I asked.
“Not sure yet.”
