Epilogue
Darren
“When you said you wanted to keep me up late tonight, I definitely wasn’t imagining we’d end up here after your shift.”
Jake’s just parked his Harley outside the diner—his first time here, and maybe my last—and I’m slow to pull my arms from where they’re wrapped around his waist. I hadn’t been on his bike until tonight, almost certainly one more holy moment he’d needed to approach at his own pace. Holy for him, at least. It's been kind of horny for me, the speed and the vibrations and the sheer power between our legs making me grateful Jake doesn't mind my needy dick pressed against him. But the rumble of the engine has quieted now, and we're about to walk into a sacred space of my own. I’m nervous for no reason, and I tease my way out of it when I finally remove my helmet and hand it over.
“If you’ve got a list, we can absolutely work through whateverwas on your mind. In fact, I’d like very much to hear about all the ways I could keep you up. Every filthy detail. Talk slowly.”
“Nope. Now I’m hungry. And not for that.” I pout dramatically until he laughs. “Okay, notonlythat. But I assume we’re here so we can hang out with Sage on her turf, so let’s go grab something to eat before I fall asleep right here.”
Jake’s rarely out at this hour, only staying at Trailhead past closing tonight—or really early this morning—so we could come here as soon as I was done. No matter what time we finally fall asleep when we get back to my place, he’ll be up too early and I’ll sleep too late, but I don’t think either of us minds these days. Whichever house we’re at, he continues to do his thing, and I continue to do mine, but he won’t leave without saying goodbye, and I never demand that he stay much longer than that.
He usually does, though. It’s fun to have lazy sex in the middle of the day.
Now, he follows me into the diner, the bell above the door as silent as ever, and I lead him to the booth that might as well be named after me at this point. We’re a mismatched pair, this stoic badass in his boots and jacket, and my pretty dimples on display alongside anything else I can show off to the adoring public. I don’t know how many heads we’ve turned, though. There are even simpler things on my mind.
“Make yourself comfortable,” I say. “The vinyl’s cracked, but clean. Menus are at the end of the table. Sage already knows what I want, but she’ll slow down for you, old man.”
He flips me off and doesn’t need more than a minuteto figure out what he wants. Sage waves hello as she approaches. “Jake, sorry it’s the middle of the night, but thank you for letting Darren drag you in here. What can I get for you?”
“A stack of blueberry pancakes, a side of bacon, and a cup of decaf. Please.”
She leaves, and I tear off a piece of my napkin, roll it into a ball, and flick it at him. “Since when do you drink decaf?”
“Since I realized I need to balance a 2:30am diner experience with my desire to sleep as soon as I get home.”
“Tomyhome,” I smile.
“Toyourhome, yes,” he agrees. “Where I’ll get my payback by waking you up for something indecent long before noon.”
“Oh, no. How terrible for me. Please don’t wake me up with your mouth around my dick.”
Jake rolls his eyes, and I love it. I lovehim. And so much of this thing between us has been easy, especially once we decided to play by our own rules. There’s no marriage in our future, but more than that, we have no plans to move in with each other, either. We have different work schedules, different sleep patterns, and different habits while we’re wide awake. I think we both know wecouldlive together and compromise in all the small ways so many other couples do, but neither of uswantsto.
If I often end up at Jake’s for days at a time anyway, so be it.
We’re mostly quiet until our food comes, probably because he’s too busy yawning to carry on much of a conversation. I kick his boot just because I can. He sips his coffee while I play with the straw in my shake. And as reliably as ever, Sage returns aftera brief wait, plates stacked on her arms and an adorable smile on her face.
I’d seen her without it the night we'd all gathered in WeHo, when I’d hugged her outside the urgent care clinic and wiped away her tears. I hope I’ve helped with at least some of the worry in the few months since, her family so full of love and chaos, but never enough time and money.
“So, how’s your mom doing? Did she get back to work okay?” I ask her as she pushes the plate of fries toward me and steals a handful.
“She did, yeah,” Sage says. “And she’d still love to know the identity of the angel who sent us a basket full of gift cards for groceries, gas—”
“Oh, sorry, angels are big into the secrecy of it all, and I’d never spoil that for them,” I laugh. “But hey, River’s graduating soon, yeah?”
“He is. And I’m sure he’d like me to thank you—again—for getting him a better job. He’s looking forward to picking up more hours this summer. He’ll work hard and learn a lot.”
I nod and try to dodge brain freeze. The gift cards were probably terribly typical of me—a way to be generous without too many people knowing I can think with something other than my dick—but doing something for River was a bit of a surprise. In a strange turn of events involving the friend of a friend of a friend, I found out about an opening at the same tapas restaurant Jake and I first tried last fall. But really, River did most of the work on his own.
“I didn’t get him the job—I just got him an interview. But I do think he’s about to learn a lot. And I guess that makes two of you.”
Sage takes a deep breath and a few more fries. “It’s fine that I’m nervous, right?”
“It’s absolutely fine, and you’ll be great.”
Jake’s watching us, his mouth full of pancakes, but I can’t reassure Sage any further when another table waves her over for their check. Once she’s gone, Jake swallows.