Heat Stroke (Beach Kingdom, #2)(8)

“Are we just going to pretend you didn’t just concuss yourself?”

“You caught me.” Wincing, Marcus leaned forward and braced his hands on his knees. “Jesus, that fucking hurt.”

Marcus peeked up to find Jamie observing him curiously through his glasses, arms crossed. Might as well admit Jamie looked extra nice today and Marcus had thought nothing could beat Jamie in red lifeguard shorts. But in jeans and a white T-shirt, Jamie wasn’t just good looking, he was comfortable being that way. Most guys their age wore loose jeans. Jamie’s weren’t tight, but they were a size smaller than men typically wore. Just tight enough to make him kind of intimidating. As in, I’ve made it easier to check me out—you’re welcome. His shirt was so lived-in, it had the opposite effect. Made him and the cut muscles of his arms look…touchable. He wore a ball cap, too, but his was facing forward and advertised the New York Public Library. Stray ends of his dark hair stuck out around the sides and made Marcus’s fingers flex.

“Are you going to live, Diesel? We’re going to miss the train.”

“Shit.” Marcus pushed off the wall and they started toward the platform. “You were worried about me a little bit there. You can admit it.”

“If you died, I’d miss the chance to cross Monster Mash off my bucket list.”

“Monster Jam—and I’ll make you another bet.”

“Seeing as how the last one worked out so well, how could I pass?” They reached the platform just in time for the train to arrive and stepped into the air conditioning, finding seats in the middle of the car. “Details, please.”

Marcus had never sat this close to Jamie before and he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands, so he folded them and wedged them between his knees. “If you don’t have a good time watching cars get crushed by big-ass trucks, I’ll…” Marcus tried to think of something Jamie probably wanted more than anything in the world and landed on it right away. “I’ll stop asking Andrew to assign me the chair next to yours.”

Jamie’s gaze shot to his. “You must be pretty confident.”

“Oh I am.” Marcus’s grin was short lived. “You can’t lie and just say you hated it, though. I’ll know if you’re lying.”

“No, you won’t.”

A prickle climbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, probably not. How about I won’t ask Andrew to assign us together on Tuesdays when the beach is quiet?”

Jamie shook his head on a laugh. “Fine. So what if I have the time of my life?”

Marcus leaned back and took a moment to consider. Honestly, he was going to make the stakes easy. Like, making Jamie wear his hat backwards on the ride home or something. But something else entirely came out of his mouth. “You have to help me.”

A few seconds ticked by, the train rocking around them. “Help you with what?”

“I, uh…well.” Marcus shifted in his seat, nerves making his pulse pop. “I got a call before I came to meet you, right? This real estate management company. My application to rent the commercial space on the ground floor was approved, which is crazy, because my credit score is like, not terrible but not spectacular. I sort of abused my GNC credit card trying to look this fucking good. Anyway, it’s a storefront. And I got approved.”

“What?” Jamie turned toward him slightly, his mouth opening and closing. “A storefront for what? What are you going to sell?”

Marcus unwedged his hands from between his knees, swiping his flattened left hand slowly through the air. “Juice.”

The train trundled loudly. “Juice?”

“Yeah. A juice bar. Right across the street from my CrossFit gym. When I saw the open space, it was actually the location that gave me the idea. Plus, I make good fucking juice, Jamie.” Marcus turned all the way in his seat, excitement making it so he couldn’t get his stupid mouth to stop smiling. “The storefront is really small. Maybe enough for a few high tops, but really people are going to take their juice to go. A whole day’s serving of fruits and vegetables in one hand. I’m going to call it the Main Squeeze.”

When Jamie’s mouth ticked up at one end, his gray eyes roaming over Marcus’s face, he was happier than he’d been when the phone call came in that afternoon. “Congratulations, Diesel,” Jamie said. “Your juice is good. I think people will buy it.”

“Yeah?” He cleared the earnestness from his voice and nodded. “Hell yeah they will.”

Jamie was still smiling. It was the greatest day of his life. “So,” Jamie said—and it was impossible to miss the slight hesitation in his tone. “What do you need my help with?”

“Um. You know, like, setting it up.”

“Setting what up? The tables?”

“Or maybe all of it?”

Jamie wasn’t smiling anymore. “Jesus Christ. Exactly how hard did you hit your head?”

Marcus gave him a cajoling look. “Come on, Jamie Prince. It’ll be fun.” He nudged him in the side. “Only the smartest of the smart could pull it off—”

“Oh God,” Jamie groaned. “Don’t do that. Don’t appeal to my superiority complex.”

“I have no choice. Everyone knows I’m a dumbass.” Marcus swallowed the lump in his throat. “I have the money saved, from working summers. My mom left me some, too, when she passed away. But I don’t have the smarts—”