More Than Enough

Chapter 1Bart Smith put another dish in the drying rack and grimaced at the several plates and cups still left in the soapy water in the sink. What he wouldn’t give for the luxury of a dishwasher. His younger sister, Julie, sat at the dinette set in the small faded yellow kitchen doing her homework. She was in the last year of high school. She twirled one finger around several strands of her long red hair. That was something all the Smiths had in common, crimson red hair. The front door of their apartment slammed so hard it rattled the dishes in the drying rack. Julie looked up, her cornflower blue eyes wide with dread. Bart’s stomach clenched as he listened. He held his breath “I’m home, you lazy brats,” Ronnie Smith yelled from the living room. He stomped toward the bathroom in the hallway. “Go spend the night at Desiree’s,” Bart told his sister. “Go now while he’s taking a leak.” Julie didn’t have to be told twice. She scooped up her books and dashed from the kitchen. Seconds later he heard the front door close once more. They’d made something of a routine of this. Julie kept clothes at her best friend’s house so she could flee at a moment’s notice. The toilet flushed and then his father appeared in the kitchen doorway. His red hair stood on end, his T-shirt was stained with yellow and green spots, and his belly stuck out at the end of the too short shirt. His work pants were also stained, with oil and car grease since Ronnie made his living as a mechanic. Bart tossed down the dishrag. “I have to go to work.” “You ain’t finished the dishes.” “I’ll be late for work.” Ronnie belched and walked into the kitchen and headed for the fridge. “Too bad. Wash faster. Finish them up.” Knowing it would be pointless, and likely painful to argue, he turned back to the sink, watching Ronnie grab a can of beer from the freezer. Judging by the stench coming off the man, he’d already stopped at the bar on his way home. “Where’s your sister?” “Staying at Desiree’s.” “She spends so much time over there, they should just adopt her,” Ronnie said, then snorted. “Lucky me having two daughters.” Bart kept the wince off his face with practiced effort. He was used to Ronnie’s jibes. They used to hurt. Okay, maybe they still did. He was just better at hiding it. He worked through the remainder of the dishes quickly, aware the old man watched him the whole time. “What’s to eat?” Bart glanced over at him as he dried the dishes and put them away. “I made you a cheese sandwich.” “Cheese? What the hell happened to meat around here?” “I need to go to the store. I’ll go tomorrow.” “Get some ice cream and cookies, too,” Ronnie ordered. “And beer.” “I’m not old enough.” “f*****g useless,” Ronnie said, then belched again. “I have to do everything around here. Get the f**k out of here and earn some money. Leave those.” He cuffed Bart on the ear with the palm of his hand. Bart ducked away, ignoring the pain in his ear, and grabbed his uniform shirt he’d left on one of the dinette chairs. When he was out the door, he reached into the pocket of his pants and took out the diamond studs he wore in his left ear and put them in. He ran to the opposite side of the parking lot of the apartment building where he’d left his old Nissan Sentra he’d paid five hundred for and got in. For the next few hours, anyway, he was free. * * * * Bart pushed a heavy lock of his hair out of his eyes and pushed the picture of a hamburger on the cash register. He adjusted the headset earpiece. “Will there be anything else?” “That’s it,” the customer’s voice crackled over the loudspeaker. “Seven twenty-five at the first window,” Bart said, massaging his temples. “You look like hell, sweetie,” his co-worker, Annie, said. “Rough day?” “Not like you think.” She gave him a look. “What do I think?” “I wasn’t partying or anything like that.” Far from it in fact. Annie smiled. “Studying?” “Yeah.” Bart preferred to lie rather than to get into his father’s abuse. Annie handed him the bag of food just as the customer pulled up to the fast food window. Bart turned to the customer and stared, his heart nearly stalled in his chest. “Hi. Bart, right?” He said nothing. Just stared at the beautiful blond athletic man in the Honda sedan. The man was gorgeous. Muscular and chiseled. The classic boy next door look. Just Bart’s type. Or would be if he didn’t try desperately to repress it. “I’m Desmond Stratton’s cousin. Remember? I saw you with your friend, Shayne. Evan Caruthers.” “Uh, sure.” He handed the bag of food to Evan since he would have paid at the window before Bart’s. “Have a nice day.” “Wait, Bart.” Evan didn’t drive away. “When do you get a break?” He opened his mouth to say never. Because he didn’t know what Evan wanted, but it couldn’t be good. It never was. Annie leaned over him and glanced at Evan. “In half an hour.” Bart wanted to throttle her. Evan smiled. “Can you come outside? I’ll be waiting with my car over to the right. Will you come?” “Why?” Bart asked. “I’d like to talk to you.” The smile dimmed a bit. He bit his lip. People in the cars behind Evan started honking their horns. “All right.” “Great, see you soon.” Evan pulled away from the drive-through window. Annie nudged him. “Nice going, Bart. That guy is so hot.” Bart nodded. He rested his hand on his queasy stomach. How could he get out of this? Thirty minutes later, Bart stood at the double doors leading outside and peered out. He could see Evan’s car parked to the side. Why was he here? What did he want? It had been Bart’s admittedly limited experience guys like Evan were up to no good with guys like him. This wouldn’t be any different. “Go outside and meet him, Bart,” Annie said, coming to stand beside him. “It’s fine. No one cares.” But I care. She pushed open the doors and then him outside. Bart whooshed out a breath. Might as well get it over with while there were at least witnesses around. He felt for his cell phone in the back pocket of his uniform pants. Maybe he should call Shayne for back up. Evan’s car door opened and he got out. “Bart, come here.” He waved Bart over. He didn’t see a band of thugs with Evan, but he supposed they could be lurking in the backseat of the car. Maybe he was cowardly, but he had come across thugs before. Making his legs move toward Evan took a bit of effort, but he eventually had them going at a normal pace. He stopped several feet away so he could run back into the restaurant if needed. “Hi,” he said in a too squeaky voice. He felt his face burn. Probably matched his damn red hair. “Hi.” Evan smiled. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to come over here.” Bart glanced past Evan toward the sedan, trying to peer inside. “Is there some reason I shouldn’t have?” Evan glanced behind him uncertainly. “Um, no. What are you looking for?” “Just wanted to see if you were alone.” “I am. It’s just me.” Evan bridged the distance between them with just a couple of long steps. “The truth is, I knew you worked here so I came here on purpose.” Bart frowned. “How did you know that?” “I asked a friend of a friend.” “Why would you do that?” “I didn’t know where you lived or your phone number.” Evan shrugged. “You ran out of Henri’s Diner the other day when you and Shayne were there so I didn’t have a chance to ask you.” “Ask me?” He realized he was asking too many questions, sounding too stupid, probably. But questions were all he had. “Out. I wanted to ask you to go out with me, Bart.” And the smile was back. Dazzling and white, like Evan’s parents had paid a fortune for braces for their golden prince of a son. Evan did look like a prince out of a fairytale. Which made Bart, what? The frog? He sank his teeth into his bottom lip. “That’s probably not a good idea.” The dazzling smile wavered but didn’t wink out. “Why? Don’t you like me?” He’d have to be blind not to be attracted to Evan. He was pretty sure Evan had to know how stunningly gorgeous he was. No doubt Evan could have anyone he wanted, male or female, just by smiling at them. So, why in the hell would he be interested in Bart? “Are you even gay?” he blurted. Evan laughed at that. “Um, duh. Why would I ask you out if I didn’t like guys, Bart?” “As a joke,” Bart replied without hesitation. Back in high school a jock even went so far as to f**k Bart just so he could make fun of him. Evan’s laughter faded and he looked suddenly very serious. Even the merriment in his silvery blue eyes had disappeared. He grabbed Bart’s hands before Bart could react. Evan’s hands were warm and soft, like he’d never had to do tough work. “It’s no joke. I’m not like that. I’m asking you out because I think you are incredibly hot and I want to get to know you. We can go see a movie or something. What time do you get off work tonight?” “Ten,” Bart said, without thinking. “I can pick you up and we can see a late showing.” “I have a car here.” Such as it was. Evan smiled. “I can drop you back here after the movie’s over.” He blinked. “Wouldn’t it be easier to meet at the movie theater?” “It might be, but it also would give you the opportunity to stand me up, Bart. And I have a feeling if I left it up to you, you would.” “Well…“ “I’ll come back here a little before ten.” “I didn’t say yes.” That smile flashed again, trying to beat down his barriers. “You didn’t say no either.” Bart thought about it. It’s not like he wanted to rush home to Ronnie. Hell, by ten Ronnie would be passed out on the couch with the television left on. And his sister was safely out of the apartment for the night. Did he dare go with Evan?’ “You want to, don’t you?” Evan squeezed his hands. Bart looked down at them and realized they were still holding onto each other. He tried to tug his hands out of Evan’s grasp, but Evan didn’t let go. “Come on, Bart. Please?” “I have to go back inside,” he whispered. “Not until you say you’ll go with me.” He exhaled slowly. “Okay.” Evan let go of his hands. “Great, I’ll see you at ten.”