Every Shade by Nora Phoenix

1

No matter how often Alexander ran the numbers, it always came down to the same thing. Funny how that worked with math. The bottom line was that he was fucked. Utterly, completely fucked. Bankruptcy-and-sell-his-house-and-business fucked. He pushed back the keyboard of his computer and got up, taking off his Red Sox cap for a moment to scratch his hair. He needed a haircut, he noted absentmindedly. If he could even still afford one.

Bitterness burned sharply in his stomach. What did he do now? He couldn’t sell. This was his dad’s legacy, the one thing he’d left Alexander. Besides, he’d already failed at his baseball career. He couldn’t fail at this as well. But what could he do? His father might’ve left him the gas station and the little house behind it, but it had come with a shitload of debt that Alexander had not known about. Some kind of investment his father had made that had been a scam. He’d borrowed money for it, and he’d been trying to pay it off since. Was that what had caused his heart attack?

He’d never breathed a word of it to Alexander, always keeping up a good front. Apparently, that ran in the family, as did pride. Unfortunately, pride didn’t pay the bills. Was Northern Lake simply too small to sustain a gas station slash convenience store? In the summer, things were better, and the weekends and breaks in the winter, when the slopes brought in skiers, were good as well. But that left a lot of days where no one would come in for hours.

He looked at the clock. Case in point. It had been over an hour since his last customer, and that had been Tim Capes who’d filled half the tank of his old truck, netting the shocking amount of not even twenty dollars. Yeah, he’d better learn how to cut his own hair. And maybe start baking his own bread and learn how to grow a veggie garden or some shit. Lord knew he had the time between customers.

Should he try to get some substitute teacher jobs again? At least he’d have a bit of extra money to keep him afloat… As long as he didn’t run into another Langley, he’d be fine. That boy had been stubborn as fuck…and too cocky for his own good. Pretty damn sexy too—not that Alexander would ever tell him that. He’d done his very best to stay away from him, knowing damn well that boy was trouble with a capital T.

Langley had left town right after graduation, for which Alexander would be eternally grateful, even if it had taken months before he stopped looking for him every time a black pickup truck pulled up. Temptation had removed itself—although he’d certainly helped that happen with a few harsh words—and Alexander had been relieved. Kind of. He hadn’t seen him in five years, and he probably never would again, which was for the best. Langley had been too young for him, too innocent, despite his attitude.

Speaking of Langley, maybe he should try to set up a meeting with Langley’s father, Nick Malcolm. The man was one of the richest businessmen in the area, and from the grapevine, Alexander knew that he regularly helped neighbors with loans on friendly terms. Maybe if he could get a loan, he’d be able to make it. If he could just pay off the debtors and start from zero…

The motion sensor buzzed, and he looked on the security monitor that showed him the camera feeds outside. He didn’t recognize the sparkling red pickup truck, but for the thing to be this pristine in this weather, it had to be either brand new or just washed. Snow and salt did horrible things to cars.

He walked into the shop in case the customer needed to pay inside. The driver was getting gas now, and he could only see him from the back, bundled up in a winter jacket with a beanie pulled low over his ears. Alexander only guessed the customer was a man based on his height, which had to be well above six feet. But he still didn’t look familiar. Probably a tourist. The ski resort nearby drew a lot of visitors each season.

For some reason, he kept watching through the window, waiting until the man was done filling up. Damn, that was one hell of a nice truck. Brand spanking new, if Alexander had to take a guess. The man closed the gas tank, straightened, and turned around. Alexander gasped, and his heart skipped a beat. It couldn’t be. He’d literally been thinking about him minutes before. It couldn’t be Langley. He was imagining things.

But when the man walked into the store, the bell above the door chiming happily, Alexander’s stomach flipped. It was him. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Langley unzipped his jacket, then stalked toward Alexander, clearly unfazed by Alexander’s rude remark. “Is that how you greet me after five years?”

“What, you expected a red carpet? I told you to leave.”

“I did. I haven’t been back since that day.”

“Then why are you here now?”

Fuck, his eyes were as ice blue as they’d always been, always drawing Alexander in. Ridiculous. He should’ve gotten over this weird magnetism thing years ago.

“I came back for you.”

Alexander’s eyes widened. “The fuck you did.”

Langley slowly shook his head. “Tsk, accusing me of lying, Xander?”

“My name is Alexander, and yes, I am. Besides, I told you to leave and never come back.”

Langley stepped close to him. So close, Alexander could smell his subtle cologne, could feel the warmth of Langley’s breath on his skin. “Now, who’s lying?”

“What do you mean?” Oh, he knew, but he’d hoped Langley had forgotten. He should’ve known better.

“You didn’t tell me to leave and never come back. You told me to leave and come back when I was a man rather than a boy. Well, here I am, Xander.”

Alexander swallowed as he took a step back. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Of course he remembered. Langley had an elephant’s memory. “It’s been five years. Are you seriously telling me you think you’re a man at twenty-three?”

“Mmm, someone has been keeping track again… Did you miss me, Xander?”

“Like a pain in my ass. And stop calling me Xander.”

“A pain in your ass, you say? Interesting. I’d thought you were a strict top.”

“I’m… You’re… That’s highly inappropriate!” Alexander sputtered. Fuck, if Langley only knew.

“Inappropriate?” Langley laughed, and Alexander’s belly did a flipflop. Had he stepped forward again? They were close once again. “We’re not in high school anymore where I had to call you Coach, and you stubbornly kept calling me Mr. Malcolm.”

He’d had to. If Alexander had allowed himself even an inch of liberty, he wouldn’t have been able to resist Langley. He’d been cocky, all six foot four of him, and fuck, his body had been…perfection. Smooth muscles, all athletic and graceful, and Alexander had never so much as looked at Langley in the locker rooms, too scared he’d catch him naked and pop a boner.

“I’m still seventeen years older than you,” he said, jamming his hands into his pockets as he increased the distance between them again.

“Yes, and you always will be. I get it. But I’m no longer in high school, and you’re no longer a substitute, so what reason do you have now to keep me at arms’ length?”

Alexander avoided his eyes. “How about the fact that I just don’t like you?”

Langley grinned, winking at him. “You may not like me, but you sure as hell want to fuck me. You did five years ago, and you still do. But I’ll give you some time to get used to the idea.” He pulled a fifty out of his pocket and held it out to Alexander, who accepted it automatically, then mentally cursed himself. “That’s for the gas. Keep the change. I’ll be back, Xander.”