Prince Charmings (BOOK ONE)

14

"I'll take turkey, on rye bread."

"We don't serve rye," Spencer grunted behind the counter. He looked unimpressed, thick arms folded to his chest. The grey of his eyes was dense, no clouding emotions. The guy had one thought and one thought only.

That he was never, ever, ever, going to rejoin the play. No matter how many sandwiches I attempted to order.

"How about maple-glazed ham... on rye?" I asked and Spencer actually dropped his arms at that, only to reach out behind him to untie his apron. Throwing it on the counter he let out a soft whistle, alerting a girl with a clipboard who stood by the walk-in fridge.

"I'm going on break, Polly," he said, eyes daring me to comment before he swept off to the door adjacent.

I waited all of four seconds before walking out of the store and heading to the alleyway I knew Spencer would be in. As always, he stood resting against a graffitied wall, unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth. Waiting until he lit the end, I lazily made my way over, dragging a hand against the rough concrete wall across from him.

"You should invest in rye bread. It's the only stuff my Mom lets the family eat." I said as a way of announcing my presence.

Spencer peeked open an eye, glare hard as a kitten's, though the clench of his fists were twice as menacing. "I could call my Mom, have her book you for harassment."

"Pretty sure asking for rye bread doesn't class as harassment."

"It can when the offender is someone I have a known history with... Especially if I'm known to them as the guy who enabled their arrest."

"Really?"

"I don't fucking know. Not a cadet remember," he muttered, taking a soft drag before dropping the cigarette to the concrete. "I'm not doing the play."

"Just tell me why, then I'll drop it. I promise," I said, reclining against the wall opposite him. The cement was cold against my back and a little wet which made me regret my actions but I didn't move.

"I'm not kissing you," he said, simply.

"Mildly offended."

"No, Jesus," he huffed, rolling his eyes. "You're a treasure, Beau, a national one. Is your ego happy now? I just meant... I can't kiss another guy."

"Why?"

"It's kind of personal. I'm not gonna pour my heart out to you while on my smoke break." Spencer scoffed, looking down ruefully at his abandoned cigarette. "Listen you said all I had to do was give you a reason, there's my reason. Now, kindly, fuck off."

"It's not a big deal, kissing another dude. It wouldn't make you gay," I reasoned and Spencer sent me a hard look.

"I know that."

"Then I really don't see the issue. Is this about Bella? About her trying to get back at you? Is that why you're being so sensitive?"

"Fuck Bella," he scoffed, rolling his eyes harder. "No, for once Bella is not the center of the universe – though she tries to be. I just, I can't do it. Okay. Now, please, go."

Not awaiting my reply, Spencer shouldered his way back into the store. With a low groan, I followed behind him, just catching the door as it went to swing shut.

"Turkey. Sourdough. All salad, but onions, and extra mayo."

"Jesus– Beau you can't just come behind the counter, it's staff only." Spencer lectured, clearing enough space so I could pass him, ducking under the counter to reenter the customer's side.