Grown-up by Kim Fielding Page B

clingy. He didn’t want to fool himself into thinking the thing with Ben was more than it was. And Ben hadn’t made any contact with him either, which broke Austin’s heart, but he understood. Ben wanted to get back to his life. Maybe wanted to forget the night had ever happened. And hell, it was supposed to be a one-night stand. Ben and Austin both knew that. Wasn’t Austin’s fault his heart never got the memo.
    “I’m going to tell Sam,” he said out loud, prompting a passing hipster to stare.
    He walked home quickly, hopped into his car, and prayed it would start, which it finally did. With a raise, maybe he could get the thing fixed. Or better yet, secure a loan for a reliable used car. Sam might be willing to cosign now that there was a good likelihood Austin would make the payments.
    He parked a couple of blocks away from Sam’s Furniture. He could have found a much closer spot, but he was nervous, and a slight delay seemed like a good idea. He walked really slowly.
    He ultimately reached the entrance and had no excuse for remaining outside. Sam and Ben both sat at their desks, and they both looked up as he stood in the office doorway. Neither seemed pleased.
    “Hi,” Austin said quietly, his gaze somewhere between them.
    Ben didn’t answer, but his chair squeaked as he angled himself slightly away. Sam, on the other hand, responded with a resigned-sounding “Hi, Austin.”
    “You’re seeing me here in the middle of the day and you’re figuring I’m about to ask for money.”
    “Austin, I—”
    “I can understand that. But I’m not fired, Dad. In fact, I got a raise today. And a title. I’m now the official Gifted assistant manager.”
    Sam leapt from his chair, rushed over, and crushed him in a bear hug. “I’m so proud of you, kiddo!”
    “I’m an employee at a gift shop, Dad. I didn’t win the Nobel Prize.” His words were slightly muffled by the hug.
    But Sam only squeezed harder. “I don’t care.” He stepped back, but only a little. “You really made an effort to improve. It’s not the size of the achievement that matters to me—it’s the work that went into it.”
    “I…. Thanks, Dad. I didn’t do it myself, though. I had help.” Austin gestured at Ben. “He was my mentor.”
    Sam didn’t look surprised, which was… interesting. But he nodded slightly. “Asking Ben for help was a good idea. He’s a good role model.”
    He’s more than that , Austin wanted to say but didn’t. “He really helped me get my head together.” And pretty much tore my heart apart .
    “Well, how about if we all go out to dinner tonight to celebrate?” Sam asked.
    “I’m busy,” blurted Ben and Austin at the same time.
    Sam raised his eyebrows. “Oh,” he said. And then he looked back and forth between them with a very sharp gaze. He’d never been a stupid man.
    Austin bunched his hands into fists and warned himself to act like an adult. “Ben? Could I talk to you, please?”
    “I’m busy,” Ben said again, scowling.
    “I just need a few minutes.”
    Ben looked as if he were going to refuse, but Sam intervened. “It’s okay, Ben. I can spare you.”
    Ben stood, but he certainly wasn’t happy about it. He spent a moment shuffling papers on his desk before catching Austin’s eyes. “We can go outside.”
    Instead of heading out the front, they walked to the loading dock. The large sectional steel door was shut, so they went out the regular door instead. Someone had set a couple of plastic lawn chairs out on the concrete platform, but Ben and Austin didn’t sit. Ben leaned against the brick wall with his arms crossed on his chest, while Austin hovered uncomfortably a few paces away.
    “What are you busy with?” Austin asked, just to break the silence.
    “The retail space. The architect gave us the plans, but now we have to worry about costs and timelines and permits. Stuff like that. It’s a headache.”
    “But I bet it’ll be great when it’s ready.”
    “Yeah. But