Page 6 of Unexpectedly You (Boston Boys Bozok #1)

Chapter Five

Bentley

As promised, Peyton spends the following day helping me unpack.

Well, she’s supposed to be helping me unpack.

What she’s really doing is looking out the peephole every two seconds hoping to catch a glimpse of Alex.

Of course, as short as she is she has to get a step stool to fucking reach it.

It’s been a few hours already and I swear she’s only moved off her perch twice, once because the dinner we ordered had arrived, and the other time because I had to take out the trash that was piling up.

“I thought you were over here to help me unpack, not stalk the neighbor,” I tell her.

She looks back at me from where she's standing on said step stool and grins. “Luckily I can multitask.”

“You’re literally not multitasking,” I point out. “That's the whole point of this conversation. Unless standing and creeping through the peephole is multitasking.”

She ignores me.

“The guy’s not that good looking,” I mumble .

That gets her attention. She turns to me, hands on her hips. “Hush you.”

I roll my eyes and grab the giant bag of trash we’ve been collecting over the last hour. “You’ll have to give up your perch again so I can go throw this out.”

She reluctantly steps down and moves the stool out of the way, letting me out the door. On my way back inside I run into Alex coming out of his apartment and he gives me a wide smile.

“Hey, cowboy, how’s unpacking going?” he asks.

I don’t get a chance to answer because my door opens and Peyton steps out. “It’s going fine, handsome,” she practically purrs, then thrusts her small hand out. “I’m Peyton. Bentley’s friend.”

“Ahh, yes, I remember you from the bar,” Alex says, shaking her hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Alex.”

“You don’t want to come in and lend us a hand do you?” she asks.

“I wish I could but I’m actually headed to work.” He turns to me. “I’ll see you later, right? Supernatural ?”

I nod and he gives me another grin. “Great.” He turns to Peyton. “See you later, too, gorgeous.”

Lord, I think Peyton might pass out when Alex winks at her before he saunters off.

“No,” I say when he’s out the door and Peyton’s gaze is still locked on his retreating figure.

“You’re so mean,” she chides as I grip her arm and pull her back inside the apartment. She turns to me. “Also, did he call you cowboy?”

Jesus Christ. My cheeks flame. “Maybe,” I mumble.

“Uh huh, and what did he mean, Supernatural ?”

I shrug. “He hasn’t seen it so I’m introducing him.”

I swear her eyes have hearts in them. “Ahh, you guys are going to have the cutest little bromance.” She punches my arm.

I have no idea why, but I’m actually blushing. “Work, woman,” I tell her, shoving her towards the mountain of still full boxes. We’ve made some progress, but there’s still quite a bit left to do.

She sighs but grabs the scissors and starts on a box labeled “kitchen” while grousing, “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

I just shake my head and keep unpacking.

Alex

It’s a few days later that I’m sliding my winter jacket on and shoving my feet into my sneakers, ready to head to work for the night.

I’m in a bit of a hurry since I’m running late.

I went on a run this morning, and by morning I mean eleven because I was up past two in the morning working.

After showering and drinking a smoothie I worked on my taxes until I thought my brain was going to explode, and then curled up on the sofa with Marble and Pride and Prejudice, only to proceed to fall asleep an hour later.

And now I’m hustling so my brother doesn’t give me grief about being late again.

He’s a stickler for punctuality. He used to drive me to work, but stopped since I was never ready as early as he wanted me to be.

To be fair, his idea of on time is ten to fifteen minutes early.

Now, though, I’m running about fifteen minutes late and I can just picture the look on my little brother’s face when I walk in.

Tommy might be seven years younger than me, twenty-two to my twenty-nine, but of the two of us, he’s the hard ass.

Well, with me anyway, and our other coworkers, which is why our parents made him the manager as soon as he turned twenty-one.

With his husband, Pierre, he’s a mega softy.

Pierre’s such a sweet guy, though, I don’t think anyone could get mad at him.

I leave my apartment and make my way outside, only to stop in my tracks when I see the mounds of snow on top of my car and encasing it on all sides.

Shit. I tilt my head back and groan. I am going to hear about it from Tommy for sure now. I’m pulling my gloves out of my coat pockets, ready to put them on and get to shoveling when Bentley pulls into the parking lot and glides into the space a couple spots over from mine.

I wave and he waves back, his headlights going out before he climbs out of his car.

I’m just thinking about how not fun it’s going to be to shovel in the fucking dark when he says, “You need a hand?” And what the fuck?

Why is my dick twitching at the sound of his deep southern drawl?

I don’t know, but a shiver races down my spine that has nothing to do with the cold.

I really don’t have time to psychoanalyze that right now, however, so I shove whatever that reaction was aside and dig my phone out of my pocket, ready to text my brother and let him know I’ll be half an hour late. Fuck.

“Yeah, if you have a minute, and an extra shovel, that would be amazing,” I tell Bentley. “I’m late for work and Tommy is gonna bust my balls.”

“Tommy, your brother?” he asks, hands shoved into his thick, thigh length coat, shoulders up around his ears. He has his turquoise scarf on, too, and there’s snowflakes in his hair and beard, and clinging to his long eyelashes. He shivers visibly.

I realize I’m staring at him when his cheeks flush and I clear my throat. “Yeah, he works with me at the bar and he’s a bit anal about being on time.”

“You want me to give you a ride?” he asks, looking like he might just turn into a human popsicle if he doesn’t get inside soon.

It’s cold out, for sure, but being in the low twenties is normal, and I’ve adapted over the years.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I don't stand out here for shits and giggles, but I can tolerate it. “Might be faster.”

“That would be amazing,” I tell him, shoving my phone back in my pocket without texting Tommy, then hurrying over to the passenger side door of Bentley’s car and climbing inside. He slides into the driver’s seat a second later and starts the car, his teeth chattering as he does, making me laugh.

“Cold?” I ask as he pulls out of the parking spot.

He blushes again. “I’m from Georgia, remember? And this is the first winter I’ve experienced up north. You all are crazy for living here on purpose.”

I laugh. “You’ll get used to it. Aren’t you here on purpose?”

“Nah, I’m here because I can’t say no to Peyton.”

That pulls another laugh from me and I feel my chest squeezing when he gives me that soft smile.

“I assume we’re heading to Johnny’s ?”

I nod. “Yep. My home away from home.”

“You and your brother always work together?”

“Yeah, we’ve been working at the bar since we were teenagers in some capacity or other. My parents own it, so…”

He raises an eyebrow. “Is there anything in this town that your parents don’t own?”

I chuckle. “A few things. My brother is gay, and when he came out they wanted to make sure he was safe and that he and other queer people in town had a place where they belonged, so they opened their own queer bar and had official underage nights where they didn’t sell alcohol, but the younger queer crowd could come and hang out and dance.

They still do it once a week and it’s a big hit.

That was after taking him to the pride parade every year and putting rainbow magnets on their cars, and a ginormous flag in their street facing window.

They still make a rainbow cake for him every year on his ‘coming out aversary.’” I put the words in finger quotes, picturing the look on Tommy’s face when our parents “surprise” him with it every year.

There’s the eye roll, and the groan as Mom and Dad stare at him with wide smiles on their faces, and he reluctantly lets us all inside to celebrate.

Sweet Pierre always blushes furiously when they tell him how happy they are that their baby boy found someone so wonderful.

And even though my brother acts like he hates it, I’m pretty sure he’d be disappointed if we ever stopped.

“Your parents sound pretty great,” Bentley says.

“Yeah, they’re characters, but I love them to bits.”

There’s a moment of silence and I take it to appreciate the car. It really is a beauty. Leather interior, bench seats, a tan dashboard and door panels, a cassette player which I honestly don’t know if I’ve ever seen before in real life, and crank windows.

“Nice car,” I tell him, and he grins again.

“Thanks, it’s from Supernatural .”

“Oh, yeah? Wow, you must really like that show.”

“I’m mildly obsessed,” he admits, his cheeks pinkening again as he bites his bottom lip. “Peyton and I grew up on it.”

“Oh, cool. We still on for watching next week? You’ve got me all hyped up now.”

He nods. “But don’t forget Marble. You don’t bring her, you don’t get to eat.”

God, he makes me laugh more than anyone I’ve ever been around, and he’s so easy to talk to.

How is it that we’ve only known each other a few days?

The best part is it feels like he’s already coming out of his shell with me.

There’s no doubt he’s shy and introverted, but I can see more and more of his humor and his kind heart every time we’re together.

“Here we are,” he says, pulling up to Johnny’s and putting the car in park.

“Thanks again, man,” I tell him, climbing out. “You saved my ass. See you later.” I shut the door and wave and he drives off.