Break My Shell, page 4
“We can still work on it.” Max planted a kiss at the back of Dayton’s head. “I… I really liked—I fucking loved yesterday. You blew my mind.”
It was such a shame Dayton couldn’t have really blown anything, because he was tied down, with Max doing all the work. Were he not tied down, however, not much would have happened, and he needed to get off that topic pronto. “I don’t know what you eat for breakfast. I have eggs and Poptarts.”
Max kissed his ear, as if he needed to accentuate each sentence with affection. “Babe, I’ve had brown slosh and a toast for breakfast for the last three years. I’m good with anything. I’d fuckin’ love a Poptart.”
This was yet another reminder that he was now... living with a man who’d spent a few years in prison. Max could be suffering from PTSD, for all Dayton knew, or his interactions with people could be outside of the norm. What would Dayton do if Max turned out to be more than he could handle? Just thinking about it sent his heart rate into a frantic dance.
But then again, he was glad that even with his limited resources, he could give Max something he’d enjoy. Like the chocolate-flavored Poptart.
Max pulled away and grabbed one of the coffees Dayton had made. He made such a pretty picture in only his briefs, with the backlight from the window, and the cup in his hand. It made Dayton imagine what would it be like to actually have a guy like him around every day. But then he noticed the intense way in which Max kept looking at him, and it reminded him of all the dirty things Max had promised to do to him. They were probably playing in front of Max’s eyes right now.
“You think Vanessa would pay me for the week upfront? I don’t wanna leech on you,” Max said.
Dayton froze, curling his fingers around his cup, as if it were a railing keeping him from falling into the empty abyss of his wallet. “I mean... you could ask her, but the inn is not doing so great, and um... she can be flexible with paying times,” he said, even though it was a vast understatement. He’d seen barely any cash since May. “But... you know, at least I have somewhere to stay, and I have an allowance on the food from the kitchen.”
The frown on Max’s face was the last thing Dayton wanted to cause, so he quickly put the Poptarts in the toaster, hoping they would cheer up Max.
“What do you mean ‘flexible’?”
Dayton put sugar into his coffee, one spoonful more than he usually did, as Vanessa hadn’t allowed him to take any creamer this week. “Oh, you know. She pays when there are bigger profits. Within the month.”—Or year.
Max had a big sip of coffee, but his frown only deepened. “That’s not right.” But they both knew Max was desperate for a job that he could start as soon as possible.
Dayton gave a short nod. He’d trusted Vanessa at first, but when he noticed his wages dwindling, he made sure to record all his working times in a notebook and called her out—or rather politely reminded her—on some of his working hours being omitted. They both acted as if it were just a mistake, but Vanessa told him she could not afford to pay him for all the overtime that month.
This kind of situation became a ritual, and each time Vanessa told Dayton she would pay him the remaining balance as soon as the inn started earning a bit more. Instead, the money coming in dwindled, as did Dayton’s monthly payments. Having kept a record of the sums owed him, he knew that if Vanessa paid him all of it at once, he could afford to move somewhere else, where there were more jobs available. A warmer climate maybe? Florida? He’d always wanted to visit Disney World. But he could not risk it now and end up homeless in a place where he didn’t know a single soul.
One time, Vanessa jokingly told him he should treat her debt with him as a savings account for his future, and he politely laughed.
Max grabbed himself a Poptart as soon as it got toasted, but it took him a while to say anything. “I have thirty bucks left. Know of a Goodwill around here?” He smiled, but Dayton could sense the tension in his body. Before Max had gone to prison, he was a promising boxer who surely didn’t have to shop for used clothes.
Dayton needed to finally push Vanessa for the money she owed him, so that Max could ease into life outside again. He deserved this much help from Dayton.
Chapter 4
The restaurant was only halfway filled in the evening, despite being one of only three in town. It was nothing new to Dayton, because the patrons had been draining out of River Inn and favored a casual bar in the town center instead. Too bad Vanessa could not understand why her tacky taste and unreasonable prices scared people away as soon as they saw an alternative.
Dayton wished many times he could tell her in plain words that plaster Cupids, artificial roses, and a piano that sounded like a bag of cats beaten with a club not only did not agree with the locals, but also scared away tourists. Those who came here for a taste of wilderness and simple, delicious food, not recipes that pretended to be Italian cuisine, which Vanessa claimed she loved.
“He is a handsome man, that friend of yours,” said Vanessa, adjusting her brown satin blazer as she joined Dayton at the counter. He’d just returned from the reception and was still squirming from the sneers the guests had given him after having to look for the receptionist all over the inn instead of being greeted upon their arrival. But how was he to blame if Vanessa refused to work the reception desk most days and just wandered around inspecting the work of her employees?
That was about the only thing she seemed to be good at, because interior decoration certainly wasn’t one of her talents.
“Uh... well, I don’t see him that way,” he lied, not wanting Vanessa to get too suspicious.
She sighed deeply and pushed back the one long pink strand of hair at the side of her head. “I can’t believe that. Have you known him since childhood or something? You must see he’s built like a marine…” Her gaze drifted off. “With your tastes.”
Dayton’s face turned as red as the rotting tomatoes at the back of the kitchen. “All right, fine. I can see he’s handsome, but he is just a friend. I don’t want things to be awkward.”
“Knew it!” Vanessa said with a smug smile and started walking off.
Dayton blinked and followed her. “Vanessa, can I have a moment of your time?”
Vanessa looked back at him and returned to the little corridor between the kitchen and the restaurant. “Sure, what is it? Just be quick, because I want to have a walk-around and greet all the guests. Make sure they’re enjoying themselves.”
Vanessa’s beloved ‘walk-arounds’ were the bane of the hotel’s existence. She’d be much better as a hands-off owner, and Dayton was sure River Inn would earn much more if she didn’t talk to guests and ask them uncomfortable questions that forced them to compliment her out of politeness.
He cleared his throat. “I wanted to ask about last month’s pay. I’m out of cash, and with Max here, I need to help him out a bit before he earns his own money.”
She stared at him in the sad way that made him feel guilty about even approaching her about his own damn wages. “I know. We’re really struggling right now, aren’t we?” She definitely wasn’t struggling herself, because he’d seen her come out of a drugstore just yesterday when he went shopping with Max. She’d carried many shopping bags filled with stuff she’d just bought, and her collection of handbags was ever-expanding.
“I know. I need to buy new shoes for myself, so that I look presentable for the guests,” lied Dayton. “And a cat carrier for Cinnamon, for visits at the vet’s...”
“Oh!” Vanessa’s face lit up. “My cat died last year, I can bring you a carrier tomorrow.”
“That’s...”—Lucky me? That was what she wanted him to say?—”Anyway, there’s more things I need. So I would be more than grateful if you paid me.”
Vanessa looked out into the restaurant with that concerned frown back on her face. “I mean, we need to keep the hotel running, Dayton. How about we see how well tonight goes?”
Dayton needed his life running. “I understand, but you haven’t paid me for the last two months. That is a bit long.”
“Oh, haven’t I?” Vanessa’s eyes widened. “It must have slipped my mind. With all the planned renovations and all that. The sooner we get that honeymoon suite done, the sooner it can start earning for us, right? But I’ll at least get you half of last month’s wages tomorrow, okay? Money’s been a bit tight.”
Dayton smiled at her, relieved that he would be able to afford the necessities that he’d been running so low on, possibly even lend Max some money as well. “Thanks. I really needed that.”
“Make sure you do a fantastic job today, Dayton.” She smiled and gave him a patronizing pat on the arm. “Go team!”
“Go team,” he said weakly, as there wasn’t much of a team to speak of. He ran around like a headless chicken, hardly ever having the time to speak with the staff, which now also included Max.
And if that wasn’t bad enough, Dayton’s arch nemesis, Greg Culfer walked in with the two guys he’d hung out with since high school. They were here tonight to watch a football game in the bar area, or celebrate killing a deer, or something equally inane. They were loud and made a big deal of their entrance, disturbing the customers who came in to have their dinner in peace.
Dayton licked his lips and pressed his back against the wall. No. No. Not tonight. He had so much on his plate already!
But without another server to back him up, he gravitated toward the table closest to the television set mounted on top of a plaster statue, smile number 5 in place. “Welcome to River Inn. Do you want to have a drink or eat dinner tonight?”
Greg’s mocking stare landed on Dayton, making him squirm, but one of his friends confirmed Dayton’s earlier suspicions.
“Only if I can get the deer I shot today roasted!” The guy laughed and high fived one of his friends.
“What about you?” Greg asked. “Excited for the hunting season?”
Another guy Dayton knew all too well from school, Patrick, elbowed Greg with a smug smirk. “Maybe he can hunt himself a stud!”
Dayton gave a polite laugh, even though just seeing their faces made something inside him curl up and wish it would never be found. “Just drinks then? What would you like?”
In the end, they all ordered the same beers they always did, and Dayton couldn’t wait to leave their table. The thought that he’d have to come back and serve them was already excruciating. There was nothing to save him from this task, so he dealt with it as quickly as possible, swallowing poorly-veiled comments about him maybe wanting to get them drunk.
He wanted to retch. He’d rather never have sex again in his life than touch Greg, or one of his minions.
With the remaining orders out of the way for now, he sought refuge behind the kitchen doors, and even the sauna-like air would not scare him off. Max was busy chopping carrots with surprising proficiency, so Dayton took his time ogling his broad back. But thinking about what they’d done on the day Max arrived forced back memories of what Greg had done. How was he to ever trust anyone enough to hand over the amount of control required to fulfil his darkest fantasies?
Dayton pushed his back against the door, wheezing slightly as both yesterday and a night years back fused into one, choking his windpipe and forcing him to bend over to breathe with more ease. Blood pulsed in his head as if one of the vessels in his brain was about to burst and make him bleed out through his ears.
The chopping stopped and, moments later, a big hand stroked his back. “Day? You all right?”
He shuddered, opening his eyes to see Max’s sneakers so close to his own shoes. “Y-yes?” he whimpered, wheezing through air. “It’s just t-this Greg guy. He’s always trouble.”
Max glanced at Kathy, the chef, who seemed to be in a world of her own, working on four pans at once. “You mind if I take five?”
She waved her hand at him. “Fine, fine!”
Max wrapped his arm over Dayton’s shoulders as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Come on, let’s take a breather.”
Dayton leaned against him, grateful for someone to notice that he wasn’t feeling well, even if he did not want to alarm anyone and be a bother. Surely, a moment of poor disposition could be excused? “Okay,” he said softly, straightening up to walk, but Max had already taken hold of Dayton’s arm and led him past Kathy.
“Fuck, you’re red all over.” Max put his palm against Dayton’s forehead. “What happened? You need to cool down? Come on, I know just the place.”
Dayton nodded and let Max lead him through the long corridor-like kitchen and into a dark hall in the back, to a large steel door. He put his head against its cool surface as soon as they got there. The relief was so immense he actually whimpered.
But Max didn’t stop at that, and pulled Dayton into the cold room where all the chilled products were kept. The darkness inside instantly enveloped Dayton like a cooling pad on his soul.
Max closed the door behind them and turned on a small blue light, illuminating the metal shelving units filled with food. “I’ve been sneaking out here when the heat gets too bad in the kitchen.”
Dayton leaned against a shelf and shuddered when something cold rubbed against the small of his back. The sudden temperature drop did help him breathe more evenly, and he looked into Max’s face, grateful, confused, and still so very scared of going back for Greg to taunt him some more. “I— just go to the reception desk sometimes. There’s always something to do.”
“Yeah, but does the reception have these?” Max wiggled his eyebrows and pulled out one of the few things off the menu Dayton found genuinely delicious. Kathy’s own creation, uninfluenced by Vanessa—a New York cheesecake ball. A vanilla cheesecake rolled in biscuit crust, with a chocolate center.
Dayton blinked, shocked that someone so carelessly touched Vanessa’s property. “What if they notice you took one?” he asked nervously, even though the dessert not only looked but also tasted delicious, and he’d know. Kathy had given him a bowlful of them for his birthday.
He’d eaten them all that same evening, because he couldn’t afford going out with friends, and it had made him unbearably sad.
Then again, there were no friends to speak of since all the kids he’d been close to in high school had moved out since graduation.
Max shook his head. “Don’t be ridiculous. No one will know.” And as if to prove his words, he pulled one in his mouth and chewed on it with a pleased expression. Dayton kept catching himself sometimes, still unable to comprehend that Max was really here. “Sit down, relax, have a cheesecake ball. No-brainer.” Max pushed Dayton down to a little wooden stool that was usually used instead of a stepladder.
Dayton practically fell down on it, curling up and rubbing his shoulders as the cool air started getting to him. “What if Vanessa sees us slacking off?” he asked and looked up, but anything he wanted to say next died in his mouth in the face of how tall and beefy Max looked like from the stool.
Even the food stains on the white tank top couldn’t make Max any less attractive. If anything, they made him even more of a hottie. He had that ‘I don’t care’ chilled-out look Dayton wouldn’t even attempt achieving.
“She won’t. It’s eight. It’s the time she goes to have a glass of wine and mourn her cat. Kathy told me.”
Dayton laughed and rubbed his face gently. For a person who mourned her pet as dearly as Vanessa declared, she was strangely happy to give its carrier away. “I shouldn’t be laughing, but yeah... it’s eight.” He smiled at Max, slowly relaxing in the seat despite the cool wall behind him.
Max grinned and stepped closer. “Open up.” He put the ball of cheesecake goodness against Dayton’s lips. He was ridiculously sweet for an ex-con, boxer, and killer, and Dayton was too weak to resist two temptations at once. He opened up and bit through the amaretti crust, straight into the softness of the cheesecake.
He murmured to show his appreciation and looked up, at the large, veiny hand, at the tattooed forearms. The sweetness of the cake melted in his mouth, and he wished he were a cat and could guiltlessly cuddle up against Max’s thigh.
“There, you seem much happier,” Max whispered and stroked the top of Dayton’s head as he fed him the other half of the dessert.
Dayton leaned in, taking the piece of cheesecake ball into his mouth. He swallowed hungrily, gathering the remaining crumbs out of Max’s fingers. The sugar rushed to his head, opening up his mind to the pleasure of Max stroking his hair. It was all too nice to be true on an evening such as this.
He didn’t even know what he was doing, but when Max pushed his biscuit-crusted fingers against Dayton’s lips, it was too hard to resist. His face flushed with heat, but he stuck out his tongue and licked the thick thumb, as if it had only happened by accident, even though Dayton’s mind was already flooding with images he should definitely not be thinking off. Especially not at work.
“Lick them clean, Day…” Max whispered, and the cold room seemed like a capsule to another world, where time slowed down, one could have as much cake as they wanted, and only good things came true. Max bowed down and kissed the top of Dayton’s head.
Dayton swallowed the cheesecake and leaned in, hypnotized by the sweet scent clinging to Max’s fingers. His tongue traced the middle of the vast plane of his palm, cleaning off all the remaining crust, only to kiss away bits and pieces of the cheesecake. He was overwhelmed by the relief this act brought him after the horrendous encounter with Greg. Max not only seemed to understand Dayton’s needs but cherished him because of them. Max was the kind of guy who wouldn’t let Greg and his friends talk shit about Dayton if he could help it.
“That’s it. That’s what you need, isn’t it?” Max’s whisper was like a breeze of hot air in the walk-in fridge, and the blue light inside made him look otherworldly, as if they were in a sci-fi movie, far away from reality.
