Stirring Up Trouble by Z.A. Maxfield

Author:Z.A. Maxfield [Maxfield, Z.A.]
Language: nld
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: erotic MM, Romance MM
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

ChApter Seven

“Vanity is the food of fools”

Anonymous

Toby gripped the phone and spoke quietly. He’d slipped out

back, after the lunch crowd was over, to where Evan and the

busboys usually smoked, and toed a pile of butts around on

the ground. They needed a bin full of sand back there. “So, if

someone called you junk food, what would that mean, do you

think?”

Deb didn’t answer right away. “Did Evan call you junk food?”

“Maybe.”

“How’d he say it, like, you’re only junk food, and you’re making me

sick? Or you’re junk food and I can’t get enough? ”

“That’s just it! I don’t know.” Toby frowned and took a long

sip of his coffee. “He just said something about me being a

feckless party boy and that I was junk food. But he didn’t follow

that up with anything bad.”

Far from it. Evan had followed those words up with something

so real, so completely honest and forthright that Toby was

currently unwilling to make his phone calls sitting down. It hadn’t

quite been punishment sex. There was no way anyone could have

sex with Evan and not feel cherished. He wasn’t a punishing man.

But he’d been subject to more than a little emotional turmoil and

Toby’s young and willing junk food body had obviously provided

him with some sort of a release.

And what a release it was. Toby’s body still rang like a door chime .

“Then what?” she asked. “What was the context?”

“I told him I liked him. He said he liked me too. Then he said

80 Z.A. Maxfield

I was junk food.”

“Aw, shit.” He could hear Deb put her hand over the phone

and say something to someone else before she spoke to him

again. “That can’t be good.”

“That’s what I thought.” Toby frowned. “I can’t get over the

feeling that I’d better be working on that.”

“Working on what,” Evan asked from behind him. Damn. The

man walked as silent as falling snow.

“Gotta go,” Toby told Deb. He heard her say something like

“good luck” when he hung up. “How’d the bartender interviews

go?”

Evan drew in a deep drag of his cigarette. He looked thinner

than he’d been when Toby first met him and more fatigued. He

leaned against the wall and shut his eyes.

“There are a couple of good candidates. One who was

particularly charming. Mixed drinks well, seemed to know what

he was doing. One problem, though. He told me his specialty

drink was the Peppermint Candida, ‘a tasty and potent concoction

of Wild Turkey and peppermint schnapps.’ Candida’s yeast isn’t

it? Should anyone really call a drink that?”

Toby shook his head. “Probably not. Think maybe we should

keep looking? Wait for the guy that’s ready to bring the world a

Burning Chlamydia?”

Evan’s thin smile transformed his face from tired to resigned.

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing in there, Toby. I drink

whiskey in my coffee. I can identify around thirty-two beers by

taste alone, but you put an umbrella in a drink or a slice of fruit

on it, and…”

“Shh.” Toby pulled Evan in for a brief touch, no more than

the bump of two foreheads together, cupping Evan’s face in

both hands and then letting him go again, nearly as quickly as it

happened.

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