Metzger - Tea: A Cup of John, #1

A NineStar Press Publication

Published by NineStar Press

P.O. Box 91792,

Albuquerque, New Mexico, 87199 USA.

www.ninestarpress.com

Tea

Copyright 2019 by Matthew J. Metzger

Cover Art by Natasha Snow Copyright 2019

Edited by Elizabetta McKay

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact NineStar Press at the physical or web addresses above or at .

Printed in the USA

First Edition

January, 2019

eBook ISBN: 978-1-949909-81-4

Print ISBN: 978-1-949909-82-1

Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content, which may only be suitable for mature readers.

Tea

A Cup of John, Book One

Matthew J. Metzger

Table of Contents

In loving memory of David.

Chapter One

FARK THIS, RHODRI said, fer the ace o farking spades.

John grunted, busy watching a Facebook slanging match unfolding on his phone. It had started to snow, whichdespite Sheffield getting snow on a regular basis in the winterensured everyone promptly forgot how cars worked.

A fact that Rhodri backed up by leaning out of the van window and bellowing, Who taught yer to farking drive, yer daft cunt! at a middle-aged man in a BMW.

John snorted, grinning, and squinted out of the slush-smeared windscreen. They were nearly at the high street.

I can walk from here, he said. Turn around and use the ring road, if you dont want to be here all night.

Fark the ring road, Rhodri grumbled in his thick, garbled accent. Itll fark the suspension.

You mean its not already?

Rhodri snarled a defence of his beloved, twenty-year-old death trap of a van, but John firmly stuck by his assertion as the rust bucket was hauled over to the side of the road, and the handbrake screeched like a banshee in an opera house.

Monday for the renovation? John asked as he curled his coat collar up.

Yeah. Gazzers looking fer a spring sale.

Have a good weekend, then.

Fark off.

John grinned and slammed the passenger door on the pseudo-affectionate dismissal. The day Rhodri Campbell started talking nice to his friends was the day hell froze over.

Mind you, John thought, squinting at the black sky, that might not be too far off.

He was supposed to meet his older sister for dinner, but shed be at least another hour. Grimacing at the weather, John decided to find a caf and settle in to wait out the snowstorm. Hunching his shoulders, he broke into a jog, aiming for the first sign he saw, and soon shouldered his massive bulk through the glass door of a tiny, heavenly warm coffee shop.

It was busy inside. Everyone else had had the same idea. The floor was crowded with shopping bags, a buggy thoroughly blocking one aisle. Johns absurd size earned him some dirty looks that were hastily wiped away when he glanced back. Even the barista, when he asked for a large tea, sighed and popped her gum like it would be an enormous bother to cover her wide-eyed stare. The prickle of unease rose under his skin, and he forced it back down.

Keep the change, John told her as he handed over three pounds and folded his arms to wait, knowing thateven in Sheffielda man with biceps like the steel ropes on a suspension bridge was not going to be left waiting for long. Especially if he folded his arms.

That was when he messed up.

He stepped back to glance around for a table, and in doing so, bumped the one directly behind him. A cup banged. Someone swore. And John felt the hot flush of shame flood his face, even as he spun on his heel to try to fix the damage.

Im so sorry. I

Its all right. I think it missed me.

Here, let me get you anotherwhat was it?

And then the man looked up from patting down his jeans and T-shirt with a napkin and smiled right into Johns face.

And John just stopped.

Staring.

The way the man smiled wasbreathtaking. Literally. The air caught in Johns chest, his lungs seizing for a brief moment, when a crooked smile spread across narrow features, creasing a pale face from good-looking into gorgeous. It was like the sun bursting over a still sea, like the car dashboard when the ignition was first turned in the dark. A sudden spark lit behind an attractive face to make it utterly beautiful, and John stared.

The stranger was tall and lean, with a halo of messy black curls that surrounded his face and threw the ethereal beauty of that smile into sharp relief. The smile itself was formed out of the most ridiculously kissable mouth John had ever seen. And the face. God. It blazed with the brilliance of that beam, and above it lay the burn of eyes the colour of an endless summer sky.

Damn.

A mocha with peppermint and a double shot of espresso.

Awhat? John asked, still staring stupidly.

The man chuckled, and John died. His soul ascended into heaven on the back of that sound. Jesus. Holy goddamned Jesus.

Just ask for Chriss regular.

T-thats you, then?

Uh-huh.

Um. John. Nice tonice to meet you.

The touch of his hand was like a cattle prod. John felt it all the way up to his brain, and the most inappropriate parts of his brain too. He had to learn how to breathe again. His heart was pounding. He wanteddesperately, stupidly, urgentlyto reel Chris in and kiss him as if they were the only two people in the room.

He didnt.

Obviously.

He let go and ducked back into line to ask for the guys regular. Tipped double. And when he took it back to the table, John knew for his own sanity and safety he should apologise once more, take his tea, and go.

Instead, he said, Mind if I join you? and instantly hated himself for it.

And then didnt, when Chris smiled a little wider and said, Please.

I am sorry about that. Im not usually that clumsy.

Just an accident. It sounds busy in here.

Itis, John said slowly and frowned.

Then it clicked. That brilliant blue was as vacant as a summer sky too. And hed never once looked John quite in the eyes. John glanced about. There was a cane leaning up against the table. A glint of a gold medical bracelet around one thin wrist. And the way Chris slid his hand across the table, heels together and fingers spread, until he found the coffee cup

Are you sheltering from the weather too?

Uh, yeah, John said, snapping out of his reverie. Its snowing. Im supposed to meet my sister for dinner later, but Im stupidly early, sohere I am.

Lucky me.

John blinked.

What?

Sorry, sorry. Chris waved a hand. Ignore me. Big important family dinner, is it?

No, not really. She probably just wants to have a whine about our mum. Mumswell, Mum.

Lets pretend for a minute I dont know your mum

John chuckled, ducking his head. Mumsshe loves us, she wants the best for us, but her best and our best doesnt always mesh, you know?

Ah, one of those. Yes, I know. Chris raised his cup in a saluting gesture. To parents running interference.

Shes very practical, John said. Veryyou know, we ought to all marry well-off, well-educated folks with careers and good ankles. And Noramy sistershes cocked that up a bit. Then he winced at his crass phrasing and started to apologise.

Chris talked right over it. Cocked it up how?

Well, shes currently divorcing her well-off, well-educated, well-ankled husband for a bloke who makes sandwiches.