“I know,” Allen said. “But what else is there? Apps are awful. Bars are the same people doing the same thing. I’m not exactly…I don’t know.” He huffed a laugh with no humor. “I’m not a kid. I’m not the guy everyone turns to look at.”
Jamie’s face tightened. “That’s not true.”
Allen lifted his shoulders. “You know what I mean.”
Connor tapped his fingers on the table and said, “You’re not going to like this, but you’re also picky.”
Allen blinked. “I’m not picky.”
Connor raised his eyebrows. “You are. You want someone who wants long-term. You want someone who’s nice and kind. You want someone who doesn’t play games. That’s picky.”
“That’s not picky,” Allen said. “That’s just basic shit for a relationship.”
Connor looked unimpressed. “In theory. In practice, you’re looking for a rare combination.”
Mark nodded slowly. “Connor’s not wrong, but that doesn’t mean you won’t find it.”
Jamie leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. “And it doesn’t mean you settle for any guy who seems nice.”
Allen’s throat tightened a little at that, which annoyed him. He hated feeling emotional about it. “I’m not settling,” Allen said.
Jamie’s eyes focused on Allen. “Good.”
Mark gave him a small smile. “The right man will come along. You just… you have to be in places where that kind of man exists.”
Allen let out a short laugh. “Where is that? The long-term relationship aisle in Walmart?”
Connor’s mouth twitched. “Probably near the candles.”
Jamie laughed loud enough that the couple at the window glanced over. Allen smiled, and it was real this time, but the hollow feeling stayed underneath it. They meant well. They always did, but when you went home alone night after night, it got depressing.
Jamie nudged Allen’s shoulder. “Look. You’re twenty-two. You’ve got time.”
Allen swallowed. “Yeah.”
“And you’re a good guy,” Jamie added.
Mark nodded. “You are, and you actually want something real, not just one night. That matters.”
Connor said, “It’ll happen when you stop searching for it.”
Allen gave him a look. “That might be the most annoying thing you’ve ever said.”
Connor shrugged. “True though.”
Allen glanced around the café, mostly to break the moment. It was busy now. A few people had come in, shaking off the cold, ordering drinks and finding seats. At the table near the front, a man sat alone with a laptop open and a half-drunk coffee. He looked focused, with tense shoulders and a clenched jaw. Not someone waiting for friends. Someone working. Allen looked away again.
He turned back to his friends, forcing himself into the conversation as Jamie started ranting about the couples challenge again, acting as if it was torture while smiling the whole time. Allen listened and laughed when it was funny, but underneath it all, he kept thinking the same thing.
He just wanted one person. Just someone who wanted to be with him, who laughed at his jokes, and smiled when they saw him. Someone who stayed for longer than a night.
Chapter Three
Rick dragged Graham’s body toward the back of the house until his arms burned. He stopped in the kitchen doorway and listened. There were no footsteps outside. No car doors slamming shut. No voices approaching. He looked down at Graham’s face again and forced himself not to flinch.
He’d killed him. Rick had killed him, and the world hadn’t fallen apart. No alarms or sirens were coming his way. Rick swallowed, grabbed Graham’s wrists again, and pulled. The body slid across the floor with a sound that made Rick’s stomach twist. He tried not to think about it. Tried to keep his head clear the way he did before a show, where he concentrated on the song and the words, and the beat of the music.
He got Graham into the utility space off the kitchen, which was narrow but wide enough for what Rick needed. He noticed a shelf stacked with cleaning supplies and extra paper towels. Rick stared at them, his mind strangely blank.
