Golden Boys (Golden Boys, #1)(53)

“Behind you,” Diana says, carrying two giant cups full of Bud Light. She exchanges beer for cash in a flash, and almost immediately, she’s got the next order down.

I dump another round of corn dogs in the draining tray, and I start loading in another batch.

“Behind you,” Jeanie says now. She’s got five full beers in her arms, which she carries to the counter without a tray, never spilling a drop. How are these people even human?

The music is loud, like always. The crowds are rowdy, as always. And I’m kind of over it today. I don’t mind helping out, but so often I feel like I’m in the way, like Jeanie and Diana have to spend more time correcting my mistakes or teaching me how to do something than if they just did it themselves.

“How are we doing, Heath?” Aunt Jeanie asks.

“Okay,” I say, putting on a good face. “I only burned one batch today, so that’s progress.”

“You’re doing great. It’s even starting to die down a bit. Hey, why don’t you go back early? You’ve been working later than we agreed the past few days, and I feel bad. I know I’m not paying you much. Diana loves the company, but she and I can probably take care of things till closing.”

“Are you sure? I really don’t mind. And you’re paying me too much as it is. I should be paying you rent—”

“We’ve gone over this,” she says in mock disappointment. “You’re family; you’ve always got a place to stay for free.”

I laugh, but I feel a blush come over my cheeks at the mention of family.

“Sure there’s nothing else I can do? Any kegs need to be changed?”

“Lug one more of those Bud Lights up here and that’s it for your shift.”

“Not fair!” Diana shouts as she comes across with two more beers. “I’m suing! Child labor laws are strict here in Florida.”

“No laws are strict here in Florida,” Jeanie snaps back.

I try to hide the smirk on my face as I grab the keg and drag it over to the taps. I give them a wave as I leave the place, and head right to the beach. It’s not the fastest way to get back, but it’s a little more peaceful. Except for that time Di and I caught a couple, um, having some cake by the ocean.

I pull out my phone and see that it’s coming up on two in the morning. A whole hour before closing time. I put in my earphones and give Reese a call, hoping that it doesn’t go to voice mail like my last few tries.

A groggy voice reaches the phone. “Heath?”

“Yeah! Hey, Reese. Did I wake you?”

“It’s seven, so yeah. I missed your last few calls, but I kept my ringer on this time so it’d wake me up. You off work?”

I smile, knowing that there’s someone out there who’s willing to get up at seven a.m. for me.

“Yeah,” I say. “Jeanie let me go home early, so I’m walking back now. I miss you.”

A rush of embarrassment floods my body as I realize exactly what I just blurted out. Of course, it’s true, but I didn’t need to tell him that.

“I miss you too. It’s been a while. I guess I’m not in the group chat much anymore either.”

“You’re never in the group chat. But you at least have the Wi-Fi excuse. Not sure what Sal’s is. You know, Gabriel had to ask me for fashion advice? I know I’m his dead-last choice, but I was honored to be asked either way.” I pause. “Sorry, I feel like I’m talking too much. How are you? Have your projects been going any better?”

He groans in response. “Yeah, they have. I think I’m getting used to this whole group-critique thing. I’m working on my final project now. The only prompt is to take something that inspires you and turn it into a garment.”

“What inspires you?” I ask, and I’m met with silence.

“I’m not sure yet. I have some ideas, but I don’t know. When it’s right, it’s right. But Philip has been giving me sewing lessons, which is really saving my ass.”

“Oh, that’s great. Is sewing a big part of the class?”

“About as much as the design stuff we do,” he says. “Oh, and it’s really been helpful to know how the fabrics kind of sew together, which stitch works with which fabric, so I know what the different stitches, threads, and all that will look and feel like on the final product.”

An unusual part of me comes alive as he talks, when he mentions Philip. I know nothing’s going on there, and even if there was, that’s … great for them. I mean, I can’t compete with anyone when I’m frying corn dogs and he’s studying abroad in France. But I feel this jealousy building up inside me, and I want to tell him about hanging out with Cole, just to see what he’d say.

But it’s not like anything is actually happening here. And it’s unfair to hold this over him.

“When do you have to get up?” I ask, because I don’t want this conversation to end.

“I’m up now,” he says with a laugh. “But I should probably jump in the shower in an hour or so. I’ve been trying to get espresso and a croissant at this café nearby every day to really drive home this whole French thing.”

“Sounds wonderfully cliché.” I laugh. “I’m glad you have a routine, though. Do you want to go back to sleep until then? I just got back to the house. I can let you go if you want.”