Chapter 4: Ice

Grayson had never gotten along well with hyper-masculine men before. Something about the testosterone seems to make their critical thinking skills flawed, veiled under their desire for an infinitesimal body fat percentage. He didn't know why he expected a small-town, small-minded, incredibly tall, crushingly handsome, absolute specimen of a man to be different—even though he appeared to get along with every other person in town. It was an insular thing then, possibly. Harsen was really a front for a cult, and even though they make most of their money from tourist season they…try to make them feel unwelcome?

Grayson wasn't a tourist though, so why the very broad cold shoulder? Jude didn't try to run him out of town or anything; he just told him to "stay away" from Amelia. Whatever that means. Does he want Grayson to quit and leave Amelia high and dry again? That didn't make any sense. The more Grayson helped out around the bar, the less stressed Amelia seemed to get.

Grayson shakes himself out of his head, thinking in circles will get him nowhere.

'Flirting with your boss's brother is getting you nowhere.' A treacherous thought creeps up on him. He starts looking for the closest wall to bash his head into when Amelia tentatively walks up to the bar.

"Hey, bud. You've been weird for like…a few days now. So what's up with that?"

"You have the subtlety of a rhinoceros."

"I'd like to think we're past that by now. You aren't exactly a master of the niceties yourself."

"Fair enough. I just have a headache I think."

She makes a face. "And this has nothing to do with the other night? Where you begged me to take you out and you barely spoke?"

He shrugs. "I spoke more than your brother."

"That dumb*ss, did he—" She goes quiet as the doors swing open and Jude steps through. He looks rugged, like he hasn't shaved in a few weeks, instead of the maybe three days since Grayson saw him last. She looks between the two for a moment before speaking. "We're about to start closing down, Jude."

"I know, do you mind if I hang out for a bit?" He looks at the empty bar around them. “I can leave if you’re busy.”

Amelia sighs. "No, don’t leave. I have some stuff to take care of in my office, though. Y'all can stay here."

Grayson nods as Amelia flashes him a 'say the word' look, and disappears to the back.

"So, how’ve you been?" Grayson makes himself busy polishing a single glass, refusing to look up.

“Fine.” Jude’s tone turns monotone.

“You look like hell by the way. Does your hair always grow that fast?”

"What?" There’s a note of panic in his voice as he slaps a hand on his chin. "Oh. Right, yeah. I suppose."

Grayson rolls his eyes. He had never felt that at ease bantering with another person before then he had in that brief window with Jude. Now, that feeling was rapidly disappearing under the thick fog of discomfort; as if it had never existed at all. He knew that Jude is stand-offish, it had been obvious from the first moment they met. He just thought that if Jude would let him in he would see that Grayson wasn't the enemy.

Grayson wasn't stupid; he understood that some people are destined to never get along. That being said, he couldn't ignore the side of him that knew this wasn't the case. Jude was pushing him away…he just doesn't know why.

Jude sits awkwardly on his stool, looking down at the counter and staying completely still. Grayson can see that his eyes are wide with discomfort but it's the only indicator on his otherwise blank expression.

They sit in silence for a few minutes before Grayson feels something snap inside him. He tosses the rag he had been holding on the counter between them.

“Augh, I can’t do this with you. Is this just our thing now? I’m not going anywhere, and if you think you’re going to scare me off you’re dead wrong.” He stares Jude down, face set in determination.

“I’m not…I wasn’t trying to scare you.”

“Yeah, right.”

Jude looks down. “I'm not trying to be an a*shole, here, Grayson. I'm her brother; it's my job to make sure she's taken care of.”

"I don't think it is, Jude. You're both adults. Your twenty-seven-year-old sister doesn't need you to dictate who she's allowed to be around."

"That's not what I'm doing." Jude's voice is low and strained.

"How do you figure? Do you think that just because you say it to me means it isn't controlling?"

Jude opens his mouth to argue but snaps it shut. "Is that really how I sound?" he asks, his hand clenching at his side.

"Yeah, pretty much."

Jude sighs. "I'm…sorry. Either way, I shouldn't have made it your problem."

"Right… apology accepted, but only if you explain what you actually meant by it. Do you mean in a literal proximity way? Because I can keep a couple of feet difference if it's like, she gets sick easily and you don't want her catching any big city germs. Or did you mean in a friends way, because you think I'm the worst? That one I feel is unfair, because you've spoken like ten words to me in total, so it's a pretty strong judgment call."

Jude looks bewildered. "I meant more in the 'if you hurt her you'll have to answer to me' way. Which I suppose is still a strong judgment call…You're right, Amelia is a grown woman. I'm just so used to defending her from people who don't know what it's like to be different."

"And I," Grayson gestures wildly to himself. "And everything you see here, didn't tip you off that I know pretty intimately what different looks like? Do you think they gave me the prom king crown after they finished kicking the sh*t out of me behind the bleachers? Man, if I'm starting to give off a 'cool in high school vibe', I don't know what I'll do with myself…"

Jude laughs and leans in closer. "I was picturing more… too cool for high school. A little hipster, a little misunderstood," He cocks his head to the side. "Angry at the world."

"And what about you, Jude?" Grayson mimics his body language. "I'm going back and forth on whether or not you were the quarterback on the football team, dating only the prettiest cheerleaders…or the quiet kid who shot up like a weed the second he graduated."

"It was closer to the second, but I’ve been this height since I was sixteen."

"The universe really chooses its favorites, huh?" Grayson frowns bitterly. "No cheerleaders, though?"

"No cheerleaders…I don’t think either of us were each other’s type."

Grayson perks up. "Is that so? I feel like I need to see photographic evidence before I believe you didn’t have everybody falling all over you."

Jude clears his throat. "And what about you? Any cheerleaders in your past?"

Grayson bites down a smile. "Not a one. Which, frankly, is baffling. If you could have seen my look back in the day…" He whistles. "All black every day and a fringe? I was quite the looker."

"Must have been the height, then." Jude teases. "After all, the universe does have its favorites."

Grayson gasps playfully. "I’ll have you know that 5’9" is a perfectly average height! Just because you’re a giant, doesn’t mean I’m short."

"Hey, I never said you were short. Although, comparatively, 5’9" as opposed to 6’3"..." He slowly counts on his fingers and inhales sharply. "It’s not looking good."

"Oh, I’ll show you what’s looking good–-" Grayson begins but is cut off by a loud sound.

"I'm leaving the building!" a voice shouts, as Amelia emerges from the back. "Are you two going to finish closing for me? I hate to interrupt, but it seems like you're getting into a groove." She doesn't stop walking. "Lock up when you're done, you've both got keys. And for god's sake, Grayson," she gives them a pitying look. "Crack open a bottle. This is a bar, and I promise you'll both be better to deal with a little tipsy. Just leave out the bottle so I can take it out of inventory? Thank you, and good night!" And with a flourish, she exits.

Jude and Grayson exchange a look. Grayson shrugs and grabs two shot glasses.

"Tequila or vodka?"