Love Will (15 page)

“Peron, go get something with protein. Something,” I plead with him, seeing his slushie and donuts. He shakes his head. I leave my stuff where it is and go back through the store, grabbing two small cartons of milk and some peanut butter and cracker sleeves. “All of this,” I tell the cashier, swiping my credit card. After he sacks my groceries, I sort them, putting Peron’s things in one bag and my drinks in another. “Here.”

“You’re one to talk. Sodas? No sustenance there.”

“I’m going out later. I’ll have something better.”

All the guys stop talking. “Where are you going?” Tavo asks.

“Nowhere.”

“Your mystery hideout? Where you escaped to yesterday?”

“Maybe,” I tell them.

“So this place you go to. It has food. Better food than
this
one?”

“It’s up in the air. Food delivery isn’t happening, apparently, so I don’t know what she’ll have today.”
Fuck
. Maybe they didn’t pick up on that.

“
She
?” everyone asks at the same time.

“The owner. Yeah, the place is owned by a woman. It’s the twenty-first century, big fucking deal.”

“If it’s no big fucking deal, then tell us where it’s at,” Ben says.

I hesitate, not wanting them to encroach on my time at Mrs. Livingston’s Kitchen. Granted, if they stepped outside the hotel and went the other direction just a tad, they’d find the place on their own. I probably can’t keep it a secret forever. But I’ll try. “No.”

“You gettin’ some on the side, Will?” Damon asks.

“What? No!” I tell him. “It’s just quiet there. I’m taking my guitar today. I’m going to try to write while I’m there since Peron won’t let me even play a fucking chord in our room.”

“Everything reminds me of Brooke.”

“Jesus Christ Almighty,” I say, sighing heavily. “Get him drunk again today, okay? He was much more fun when I got home last night than he has been in the previous two days.”

“Can do,” Tavo says, returning to a cooler and grabbing another case of beer.

My leather boots are nearly dry from two days ago; they’re better than my tennis shoes, so I slip them on. I check my hair one last time before grabbing my book and guitar.

“I’ll see you guys in a couple hours.”

“I’m following you,” Damon says, getting up. I let him trail me, but stop him in the hallway.

“Let me have some time, man,” I beg him. “I was feeling some creative mojo yesterday. Let me pursue this and you may have another killer song by the time we get back on the road. I can’t do it if you guys are hovering, though.”

“It’s a woman, isn’t it? You put fucking product in your hair, Will. Don’t lie to me.”

“There’s a woman there, yeah, who was really hospitable. I’d just rather not look like a hoodlum fresh off the streets today, that’s all.”

He glares at me suspiciously. “If you’re not back by nine, I’ll know something’s up.”

“I’ll be back way before nine.”

“All right. I’ll keep Tavo from stalking you.”

“Thank you.”

“You can borrow my coat.” He removes his leather jacket and takes my guitar and book from me. I slip on the garment, already feeling warmer.

“You’re the best.”

“I know. Don’t let me down, now.”

“I’ll try not to.”

All the way to the restaurant, I pray that Shea doesn’t have any customers there. I know that’s bad for business, but I really just want more time with her. Maybe I’m just starved for company other than the guys, I don’t know. Honestly, I look forward to her giving me a hard time again today. It was, like, old-school flirting. I think it was flirting, anyway. Regardless, I liked how we talked to one another. She made me smile and laugh and defend myself a lot. I liked all of it.

OPEN. CLOSING. I wonder if she has to see these signs every day when she comes to work. That must be depressing. Disheartening. Sad. Inside, she waves to me from behind the counter. I open the door and wipe my feet on the rug, longer today than yesterday, respecting her establishment more now than I did then.

“Afternoon, Shea,” I tell her, removing my wet boots when I realize no amount of rubbing them on the rug is doing any good. I’d worn thick socks today, and they’re still
pretty
dry.

“I was wondering if you’d found another place to crash.”

“I think this is the only place with power. Well, this, and the convenience store a few blocks west. We go there for breakfast.” I set my guitar down at the back of the store, and immediately head toward the bookshelf.

“What do you have there?” she asks.

“My absolute favorite book in the whole, wide…
galaxy
.”

“You don’t have to use your space terms around me to prove you’re an astrophysicist. I did my research last night.”

“Did you?” I ask, turning around suddenly. She picks up my copy of
The Ultimate Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
and flips through the huge tome.

“Will,” she says, shaking her head. “What are all these scribbles?”

“I’m the third owner. It was my brother’s dad’s book… Jon gave it to me when we were teenagers. I thought it was time to pass it on to some other science nerd who’d appreciate all the things we’ve added.” I blush as I tell her this, watching her as she reads some of the column notes.

“You can’t just give this away to a stranger,” she says. “What about giving it to Max?”

I like that she knows Max’s name from her research. “He’s not into science like Jon and I are. Or reading.”

“Maybe your kid someday, then…”

“Ha!” I can’t help but laugh at that thought.
The pages of that book will be brittle and yellowed by the time I ever have kids. If I ever have kids
.

“It’s not such a laughable thought, is it?”

“It’s pretty far out there,” I admit. “Surely you learned about my reputation in your Googling.”

“I don’t believe everything I read on the internet. I reserve the right to make judgments of my own, you know?” she says, setting the book back down on the shelf. “I
am
curious why you told me not to get used to your last name…” She heads back to the counter and opens a soda for herself. “Want one?”

“Sure,” I say, taking off Damon’s coat and sitting down on the stool I’d claimed as mine yesterday. “I’m changing my name–legally–next month.”

“Oh? Why? If you don’t mind me asking…”

“Not at all. I guess you read all about the public spectacle of my brother and his boyfriend coming out over the summer?”

“Yes… I would guess that anyone dating Carter McNare’s son would be newsworthy, but for him to come out as gay… that must have been rough.”

“It was really hard on Callen–”

“Max’s boyfriend,” she confirms.

“Right. Well, his parents have had a tough time, as has my mother, but they’re all getting used to their sons being gay. No big deal. They’ll be fine. But my father–and Max’s dad–he, uh… he’s not gonna be fine. He’s disowned Max, and me by proxy. He calls himself a Christian. To me, he’s the worst kind of human.”

“Sounds like it. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” I tell her. “For me… but I feel bad for Max. I feel a little responsible. He’d always tried to maintain a relationship with the asshole, but not me. We had a falling out years ago. I’d only recently reached out to him for help with something, but that was a mistake.

“Anyway, Jon told me in September that Max wanted to change his last name to Scott. And it made sense for me to do the same. I didn’t want to be the only one with the asshole’s last name. So when I go home for Christmas, I’m going to petition the court to make it legal.”

“Will Scott. Is it William?”

“No,” I tell her, even though it technically
is
.

“Middle name?”

I waver on that one. “Kind of. Will
S
.”

“Does it stand for anything?
Spaceman
, maybe?”

I chuckle at the suggestion. “It stands for Scott, actually.” Shea looks at me curiously. “My mom was married to Jon’s dad when she got pregnant with me. She was madly in love with Jon’s dad, actually, but he wasn’t into feelings or anything like that. He never loved her back… so of course she looked elsewhere, right?”

“I guess…”

“Well, by the time I was born, things were already rocky with the asshole. He was insistent on having his last name on the birth certificate, even though he had no intention of being involved in my life. Mom was feeling guilty and embarrassed. She didn’t want people to know that Jon and I had different fathers, so she thought she’d just give me Jon’s last name as my middle name and introduce me to people that way. My dad was livid. He wouldn’t allow that… so she settled on the initial only… but never really used it, thanks to his intimidation tactics.”

“So will you keep the S when you change your name?”

“I haven’t really given it any thought. It used to bug me. It doesn’t anymore.
Wow
. That was a lot to unload on you.”

“Stuff I didn’t learn in my research.” She smiles, showing off her perfect teeth.

“What
did
you learn?”

“The most surprising thing is that your older brother, Jon Scott, is
the
Jon Scott that married Livvy Holland last year. As in the daughter of Jack and Emi Holland.”

“Jon’s just a normal guy.”

“I’m sure he is. But
Livvy Holland
is my fashion idol. You have no idea. When I was fifteen, I would see pictures of her and beg Momma for a sweater like hers, or shoes like hers.”

“You don’t want to know what I would do when I saw pictures of her when I was fifteen,” I tell her.

“Wasn’t she already dating your brother?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“You’re awful!”

“What guy didn’t? C’mon!”

She laughs at my reaction, and finally concedes. “Okay. I hope you’ve dealt with those feelings appropriately.”

“I’ve stepped aside for my brother, yes. But secretly, Liv knows I’m the better man.”

“I’m sure she does.” Shea has a hard time holding back her disbelief.

“We have a really good relationship. She’s great. And she’s perfect for Jon.”

“Good. So… Will Spaceman, what are you hungry for today?”

“Anything you have that’s warm,” I tell her earnestly through the smile that comes naturally from the name she called me. I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t want to put you out or anything.”

“I love to cook, and I spent the morning going through ingredients that I have. How about chicken enchiladas with salsa verde?”

I pause and look at her for a few seconds. “Seriously?”

“No?” she asks, looking disappointed.

I stand up and go behind the counter, crossing my arms as I stand next to her. “It’s not a coincidence that you just suggested my favorite meal, is it?”

She sighs in relief and bites her lip. “You’ve done a few interviews, and they’re not very original with their questions.”

“No, they’re not. You really have all the ingredients for that?”

Shea nods. “I made the salsa this morning.” She strides into the kitchen and puts an apron over her neck, and I can’t help but watch her hips sway from side to side. She really is a beautiful woman.

“What can I do to help?”

“Get out of my kitchen,” she says. “Go sit back down at the counter. I saw you brought your guitar… why don’t you play or write or something? I’m going to do something I love. You should do the same.”

“Okay then,” I agree. “But if you need my help–”

“Can you cook?”

“No.”

“I can’t play the guitar, so I’m going to stay in here. Deal?”

“Got it,” I tell her, picking up my instrument out of its case and reclaiming my seat at the counter. “You’re the boss.”

After a few minutes, Shea joins me in the dining area, resting her forearms on the countertop and leaning in to listen to me strum the chords to
Where Your Horizon Meets Mine.
She doesn’t even know the words, but she’s already moved to tears simply from the music itself. I stop playing and hand her a napkin from the dispenser beside me, and start talking to distract her.

“So Livvy’s been learning how to cook over the past few years. Her latest thing is trying to make baby food. You know, since she has a baby now… she wants to know everything that goes into Edie’s body, so she’s been researching and testing recipes. She doesn’t seem to have it figured out yet. Either that or the baby hates her cooking.”

“Oh, no!” Shea says. “I have about twenty recipes that I put together for my best friend last year. They’re all organic and healthy and her baby
loved
them. I could give them to you to give to her.”