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CHAPTER THREE

FORREST

Being a creature of habit, I find it difficult to keep away from the coffee shop downstairs for more than one day. I'd tried a little place down the road yesterday, but the inconvenience was a pain, and the coffee just wasn't as good. Still, even as I plan to go grab a cup from my usual caffeine supplier, I hesitate at the door. Will the new guy be working? I frown. Why does it matter, anyway?

I recall his green eyes, and how they'd widened in surprise when we'd unexpectedly seen each other in the hallway. He hadn't been the only one shocked. What were the chances of the one man I'd noticed since the split with my ex would live directly across the hall? His eyes really were a fascinating, vibrant shade. I immediately follow the thought with a scowl.

“For fuck's sake, Forrest. They’re just eyes. Lots of people have green eyes. His are not special,” I grumble to myself, even though I'm well aware the color isn't common.

He's attractive. Okay, I admit it. That doesn't mean I have to act on it. I can ignore him in the name of good java. It's a non-issue really.

I yank the front door open before I change my mind and force my feet to move toward Quick Fix before I take another unnecessary trip to a different shop.

As I make my way downstairs, I ignore the strange fluttering in my stomach and focus on work instead. I have a mountain of things to get done as soon as I get back and limited time to complete them.

The distraction does the trick, and less than a minute later the ding of the bell goes off over my head as I step inside the shop. I'm engulfed in that rich aroma of fresh coffee I had missed so badly yesterday.

I scan the work area behind the counter, only spotting Gina and another woman who's worked here as long as I've been a customer. I breathe a sigh of relief that oddly feels a bit like disappointment. No, it's definitely a relief, I decide. There's no need to leave with a cup of coffee I hate just because… Well, because apparently the new guy brings out the worst in me for reasons that aren't even his fault.

“Forrest,” Gina greets me while popping her hands on her hips. “You gonna have your normal today, or should I make you another drink you probably dug up in some deep hole on the internet that you'll hate.”

A knowing smile creeps up on her face, but she'll never get me to admit it had been a mistake. Over my dead body. “It was amazing actually, but I'll just take my normal today.”

Gina doesn't even bother to conceal the way she rolls her eyes, nor do I expect her to. “One giant coffee, black and boring, coming up. Croissant as usual?”

When I nod, she quickly pours my coffee and stuffs a croissant in a small, white bag before ringing up my order. She charges me the real price this time, so I guess I was charged a fee for being an asshole last time. Secretly, I don't blame her, so I don't call her out.

“Thank you,” I say and take my leave.

Heading back upstairs, I step around the corner into my hall while sipping the liquid perfection. Without warning, I hear a squeak and then a body slams into mine, knocking me backward. My spine collides with the wall, and the cup crushes between my chest and the one pressed against me. Steaming hot coffee drenches my shirt, and I hiss in pain as I push the person away.

“Damn it,” I growl as I paw at my shirt, pulling it away from my skin before it causes a real injury.

“Oh my god. I'm so sorry.”

The voice immediately registers, and I jerk my gaze up, finding the flustered new kid standing in front of me. I quickly scan his body to see how much of the mess he'd taken. His shirt is even worse off than mine and he's doing nothing about it.

“Jesus,” I grumble and let go of my shirt to pull his away from his skin, revealing the pale flesh of his stomach that has turned an angry red in some places. “Are you trying to burn yourself or something?”

“No, I-I…” he stammers and then goes mute entirely when I meet his eyes. His cheeks are as red as the skin under his shirt as he blushes scarlet. “I'm sorry. I was late for work and didn't see you or even hear you.”

“There are already two people working. And can't you hold your shirt yourself?” I shouldn't be touching him at all, except that the guy seems to have zero concerns for his own safety.

“Gina needs to leave for an appointment and asked me to fill in for a few hours. I can't say no to the money.”

I'm curious about his situation. I’m curious about him in general. His southern accent is thicker than most around here, including mine, and he doesn't strike me as a kid from the city. “Well, you might want to change clothes before you head down.”

He finally glances down at himself and winces.

“Crap.” His gaze then travels to the mess left on my clothes. “Double crap.”

I want to tell him not to worry about it. Accidents happen. But he'd likely take it as some sort of friendly gesture when I need him to keep a wide berth from me, as often as possible.

“Gina is waiting,” I remind him.

“I'll replace the shirt. Just when I get paid?—”

I put up a hand to stop him. “Not necessary, kid.”

“Elliot,” he says, and I frown. “My name is Elliot. Not kid.”

Why did he have to give me his name? I was just fine thinking of him as some random face I'd pass on occasion. I don't know what to say and wonder if he's expecting my name in return. He won't get it.

“And I really do want to replace the shirt…Forrest.” He sounds almost shy as he says my name. A name I had no intention of giving him.

My eyes narrow. I'm going to kill Gina. “Like I said, it's not necessary. I have plenty just like this one.”

“You do seem to like your plain t-shirts,” Elliot mumbles.

My eyes snap back up to meet his. “You've seen me twice.” Technically, I suppose it’s been three times, but two instances had been on the same day. How would he know what I like and don't like?

Elliot shakes his head. “Saw you yesterday when you headed to that shop down the road too.”

“You saw me?” I wrinkle my forehead.

“Well, you did walk by the window and I was clearing tables, so…” He shrugs.

That other place is a block away. He would have had to watch for a while to track where I was going. I want to call him out on it, but I'm unsure where that conversation would lead.

“You're late,” I remind him again, and only when he jerks back do I realize I've been holding his shirt this entire time. The fabric slips from my hand and falls back into place.

“I have to go. I'm sorry about the mess.”

Once again, I'm tempted to comfort him in some way, so I’m relieved when he turns on his heels and rushes back toward his apartment. After his door closes, I glance at the crushed cup and sigh as I prepare for another day of working without my morning caffeine fix. If I go back downstairs right now I might actually say something to Gina about telling the guy my name.

Elliot . I find the name as endearing as he is. Endearing… There's that word again. What’s wrong with me?

I stroll down the hall and let myself into my apartment, clean up, and swap shirts. When I sit at my desk, I huff at the long list of emails waiting for me.

My skin still stings, so I pull up my shirt to examine the injury but it's a dull pink. Nothing serious. I'm more concerned about Elliot. His skin is naturally so pale the red looked painful. The last thing I need to think about is his body in any way, but my thoughts take a turn without my permission.

I glance at the leather couch centered in the living room and imagine all that pale skin on display, every inch of his uncovered. I picture him sitting there just for me, naked and waiting while I work.

This is such a bad idea, but I can't stop myself from unzipping my jeans and sliding my hand into my boxer briefs.

Would he watch me with anticipation lighting up those eyes? I think about him biting that soft lip, stroking his cock lazily to tempt me away from work. I wonder how big or small he is, finding myself not caring either way.

My hand wraps around my dick and I stroke once just to ease the ache building in my balls, but it's not enough. I can't get those wide eyes out of my mind, and how they'd look with him on his knees while his lips are wrapped around my cock.

I stroke faster while imagining his tongue teasing me as he sucks. So eager to please.

My eyes slam shut and a groan rumbles in my throat as I come hard. Panting, I take slow breaths as reality rushes back in and my mind clears.

I just came in my fucking underwear thinking about some young barista I just swore I'd stay away from. I've been single for almost a year and plan to stay that way, possibly forever. I've had no issues even being tempted by a man in that time, so why him, and why now? I'm not in a hurry to let another man into my life, especially one as young as Elliot. Consider that lesson in life learned when I'd gotten engaged to a man around the same age as Elliot. A man who didn't understand monogamy apparently.

I push back in my chair and head to the bathroom to clean up once again, except this time I need a full shower. I also need to make sure one way or another I never run into Elliot again.