Page 8 of Tentacles for Christmas

Dad sighed and turned around to face me. “No reason to be sorry. I’m glad you felt safe enough to tell me about being demi.”

There seemed to be something more he wanted to say. “But?”

“No buts,” Dad replied and then chuckled. “Well, maybe one butt?”

“Geez, Dad,” I rolled my eyes and shoved at his shoulder. “I’ll think about it.”

Dad hugged me and said goodbye, leaving the rest of the beers for me to take home. I closed up my shop and walked a few feet to my home on the water. Once I was inside and cleaned up, I flopped onto my bed.

Cam did attract me more than anyone ever had. They had said something about getting pizza, and it took me a week to realize Cam meant to ask me on a date. A month later and I hadn’t built up the courage to bring up the request again in case they meant as a friend.

Maybe Cam really did mean to ask me on a date?

Closing my eyes, I felt hope bloom in my chest. I had been honest when I said I didn’t want to be around anyone I didn’t choose.

But maybe I wanted to be around Cam more than at the cafe…

Chapter five

Cam

December

AfterthreemonthsinBlue Lake, my favorite customer was Rowen Finley. Like I’d told Pam, he tipped well. But he was also fun to talk to and I liked to make him blush. Every day, I perked up each time the bell announced a new customer, and deflated when it wasn’t him.

Until it was. Because Rowen stopped in every day I worked, which was six days a week. I took Mondays off, and Eddy told me Rowen rarely stopped by when I wasn’t there. I had to hope it meant he was looking forward to seeing me as much as I did him.

My second favorite customers were Channing King and Riley Jones. Not that they were generally together, though Riley was dating Channing’s older brother. It was more their energies I vibed with.

Riley was a writer, and I loved hearing snippets of his current plots or stories from when he was traveling. I’d done a bit of my own globetrotting when I was making Silicon Valley money, but he gaveme great tips on where it was fun and safe. Riley was also an out gay man in Blue Lake, and I considered him a friend.

Channing was full of sass, and could go from friendly gossiping to cutting barbs on a dime. A total Gemini. She was always stopping by on her way out of town for college classes, but wasn’t sure of her major yet. I loved when she brought in her Gramps in his wheelchair. Merle King was a total silver fox and seemed to take my queerness and pronouns in stride, which made sense having a gay and trans grandson.

The three of them—Riley plus Channing and Merle King—were all at the table in the back corner when Rowen stopped in for his mid-morning caffeine boost the first week of December. I was starting to wonder what he did for coffee before Perk Café opened. I was too afraid the answer was some terrible instant coffee mix to ask.

“Morning, Rowen. Your usual?” I asked, already entering the items onto the screen.

“Yes, thank you,” Rowen nodded and I moved to make his caramel latte while he paid. He had switched to hot drinks only after Halloween, but always wanted salted caramel.

“How’s your bike, Red?” Merle called out. “Haven’t seen you on it in a few months.”

Rowen jumped like he hadn’t noticed them even though the shop wasn’t that big. He rubbed at his reddening neck and turned their way, though he didn’t leave the counter. “Oh, yeah. Been too rainy.”

“Fair,” Merle chuckled and turned to say something to Riley.

Merle’s family owned a motorcycle repair shop and all rode bikes together with cute matching jackets with a howling wolf on the back. Though I didn’t think the bikers would like my observation of them as “cute.”

Placing the to-go cup on the counter, since I sensed he didn’t want to stay, I couldn’t help asking about his bike. “What kind of motorcycle do you have?”

“I have aHarley DavidsonStreet Bob one-fourteen,” Rowen recited without hesitation, clearly more confident on this topic than when people tried small talk with him. “Got it new in twenty-twenty-three.”

“Nice,” I complimented, even though I couldn’t picture the exact bike. I’d had my eyes on a Ducati before I decided to quit. “What color is it?”

Rowen started blushing more at that question for some reason. “Red.”

“Makes sense,” I chuckled. Laughing was probably what he was afraid of, but I loved how on brand he was. The way he talked so passionately about it made me want to know more. “I’ve always wanted a motorcycle. Do you think you could teach me how to drive one?”

“I–uh.” Rowen rubbed his beard and nodded to himself before answering, “It would be safer in a controlled setting like a class with instructors.”