Love By Number Page 3
“My mother is a worrier,” Aidan supplied.
“Oh, well, I’ll drive safe,” Jesse said. “And I know you might think I’m some kind of … trouble,” he said, gesturing to his arm where a tattoo in vivid turquoise and orange swirled out the bottom of his sleeve, “but I’m pretty tame.”
It was stereotyping in the worst way, but Jesse was used to being judged by his appearance. Better to head it off before Aidan’s mother made false assumptions.
Aidan’s mother grasped Jesse’s arm without asking, pushing up his sleeve. A large Cheshire cat with a big, toothy grin peeked up from his bicep.
“You like Alice in Wonderland?” she asked in surprise.
Jesse smiled. “Who doesn’t? It’s a mad world, right, and we’re all mad too,” he said, hinting at one of the lines from the story without quoting it directly. He also loved the design of the cat with its wicked grin, even if he’d played with the colors a bit.
Aidan circled the car. “Are we ready to go?”
Mrs. Heming released his arm. “It’s a lovely tattoo. Nicer work than I’ve seen, not that I see a lot of tattoos these days.” Pink blossomed in her cheeks, and Jesse smiled.
“There, that’s his real smile,” Aidan announced.
Mrs. Heming nodded. “I see that.”
Jesse wasn’t sure how to respond to Aidan’s interruption. He continued to talk about the tattoo, afraid he’d break into his own set of blushing any moment. No one had paid so much attention to his smile before.
“I designed the artwork for it myself,” Jesse said.
“You’re an artist then?”
“Yes. And a bartender.”
“An artist bartender who likes baseball,” she said.
“Gramps likes baseball. I like Gramps.”
She chuckled. “You and I might have something in common then. I’ll never quite understand Aidan’s love of baseball and math, but it makes him happy, so who am I to argue?”
“Mom,” Aidan said, his tone growing impatient.
“Okay, okay, I’ll let you run off with this handsome stranger,” she said, patting Jesse’s arm before hugging Aidan goodbye.
“Ready?” Aidan asked again as soon as his mother left. If he was overly annoyed by her hovering, he didn’t show it. Jesse was just relieved he’d passed her test, whatever it was.
“You know it,” he said with a grin. “Let’s hit the road.”
***
Aidan’s light brown hair slipped down over the edges of his glasses as he bent over his phone. “I still don’t understand why we’re leaving this early. I want to get to the stadium a little early, but this is going to put us in town two hours before game time.”
“It’s not about getting to the stadium early.”
That pried his attention from the phone, where he’d been studying a mapped course from the quick glimpse Jesse managed before the screen went dark. Hazel eyes magnified by glasses peered at him. “I don’t understand. I’ve mapped the course, and it only takes three hours and forty minutes.”
“That’s precise.”
“Well, yeah. I mapped the entire course, checked traffic and weather reports and alternate routes to ensure the most efficient—”
Jesse laughed. He couldn’t help it. Aidan looked so earnest as he pulled up the map on his phone to display his perfectly planned trip.
“Why are you laughing?”
“You don’t know how to road trip. You’re forgetting the best part.”
His brow wrinkled. “I am?”
“Totally.” Jesse lifted his hips so he could tug a folded piece of paper from his back pocket. He thrust it at Aidan. “Pit stops.”
Aidan scanned Jesse’s loopy handwriting, a faint frown on his face. “The Strange Steel Drum Family? A bronzed Beetle Bailey? A giant pink elephant?” Aidan’s voice became more incredulous as he read.
Jesse reached over and tapped the list. “Don’t forget the Budweiser Clydesdales Ranch and Boathenge.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Yeah, the Clydesdales would take too long. And they’re just horses. Boathenge will be way cooler.”
Aidan shook his head, muttering under his breath as his eyes scanned the list. “There’s a lot of art on this. Metal sculptures, bronzed sculptures. I know you’re an artist, but I didn’t sign up for a field trip to see the world’s tackiest art.”
“First of all, tacky is fun. Don’t knock it till you try it. Secondly, I know how you like numbers, judging by all the stats you record every game, but there weren’t a lot of pie charts or line graphs to be found among roadside attractions.”
Aidan rolled his eyes. It was the most emotion he’d shown since Jesse picked him up, and he kind of enjoyed getting a reaction out of him. “We don’t have time for all this.”
“Yeah, we’ll have to pick and choose. So first up on the list, should we detour to Marshall, Missouri, to see Jim The Wonder Dog Memorial Park or keep to our route and stop in Warrensburg? Choices, choices.”
Aidan didn’t answer. He picked up his phone again and started tapping away. After a moment, he brightened. “There’s an aviation museum in Marshall. That could be interesting.”
“No, no, no,” Jesse said, shaking his head sadly and clapping a hand on Aidan’s shoulder. “You, my friend, don’t understand the art of road tripping. The point of roadside attractions is that they’re quick. We don’t have time for a museum stop where we’d be drawn into the intriguing history of aviation. No, we want to stop and stare at a giant ball of twine and then be on our merry way.”
“You’re a strange man,” Aidan said. “People think I’m strange. But you ...”
Jesse grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment! And since I’m obviously going to have to make the call on our roadside stops since you’re so inexperienced, I say we head to Warrensburg. The Strange Steel Drum Family awaits our awe!”
***
Jesse leaned back, one hand on the wheel, looking entirely too relaxed while driving at a speed that could easily get them killed. He was nine miles over the limit. Aidan pointed that out before they’d left Kansas City, and Jesse laughed and told him to pull the stick out of his ass.
Aidan didn’t have a stick up his ass. He had good posture.
“Relax, Aid,” Jesse said, flashing him a grin.
Jesse might as well be sitting in a recliner. He was sprawled in the seat, leaning back with his legs spread far too wide and one arm stretched out to reach the wheel. If anything at all happened to require fast reactions, they were as good as dead. Aidan had to make his peace with that, and it wasn’t easy. He was a bad passenger even with cautious drivers.
Jesse was anything but cautious. And that smile ...
Aidan wasn’t sure what to make of that smile. It made his stomach do nervous flips. Or maybe that was still the driving.
“Are you sure these roadside stops are a good idea?” Aidan asked. “If we follow my mapped course, we’ll be sure to get to St. Louis in plenty of time to check in at the hotel. It’s important we’re not rushed.”
“We’ve got plenty of time,” Jesse replied. “It’ll be fun.”
Aidan grumbled under his breath. Traveling was uncomfortable enough without this blasé guy dismissing Aidan’s concerns with a big smile on his face. A nice smile, but still.
“What if we’re late?” Aidan pressed, a bit of his anxiety creeping into his voice. He blinked hard and looked out the window. “I can’t be late. I need to record every stat from the moment the game starts. I can’t miss anything.”
Jesse’s easy grin faltered. “We’ll be on time. I promise. You’re a math guy, right? Do the math. Go factor in each stop into the route we’re following and let me know how much time we can spend in each place. Sound good?”
The tightness in Aidan’s chest eased. “Okay.”
He pulled up his phone and started breaking the route into pieces, then the amount of time they’d need to check in at the hotel and drive over to the stadiu
m, leaving a little extra time before the game started once they arrived so they could park, walk a mile to their seats and be settled before the first pitch.
Jesse let him work in peace for a while, but silence wasn’t his specialty. Soon enough, he spoke again.
“So, do you like math or just baseball? I see you recording all the stats every game.”
“I like both,” Aidan said. “I do data analysis for an advertising firm.”
“Like market research?”
“Yeah, basically I study data collected through surveys and shopping activity online. There are mathematical formulas that allow you to make predictions about consumer behavior.”
“Cool,” Jesse said, though Aidan knew he didn’t mean it. Few people found what he did “cool,” but it was useful. He didn’t take offense. He was used to people’s disinterest in his job. It bothered him more when they showed the same reaction to his passion: tracking baseball stats and using those numbers to create odds on game outcomes. Not so different from his market research, come to think of it. It was all about measuring performance to make predictions.
The radio rang suddenly, jolting Aidan. Jesse grimaced. “If I don’t answer, she’ll just call back.”
He hit an “accept” button on his stereo deck, accepting a call via Bluetooth.
“Hey, sweet Mama. How’s it hanging?”
Sweet mama? Was that literal or an endearment for a girlfriend?
“Jesse, just wanted to tell you I found a taker for that painting. How much did you want for it?”
Aidan found Jesse’s expressions to be confusing, but that was nothing new. Jesse dropped his head back against his seat, frowning hard, before he answered. “Mom, I don’t want pity sales from your friends.”
“It’s not a pity sale. Gary loved the painting, dear. You need to have more faith.”
“Mom,” he said with a groan. Aidan was glad he wasn’t the only one with mothering problems.
“Jesse, why do you fight this so hard? Do you even want to be a painter?”
Jesse’s eyes widened as he stared at the radio deck as if it could answer for his mother’s behavior. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered under his breath.
“Honey, I just want you to start embracing your talent. I know you had some disappointments when you didn’t get into CalArts, but—”
“I have to stop you right there. I have a passenger, and he’d rather not hear the history of my personal failures.”
“Oh? A special someone?”
“No, Mom. A passenger,” Jesse repeated. “Talk later, okay?”
She sighed audibly. “Okay, but Jesse, you can’t stick your head in the sand forever.”
Jesse jabbed the disconnect button. “Just watch me,” he mumbled, even though his mother was no longer on the call.
An awkward silence descended. Aidan was never good at commiserating with someone about their problems. He could barely handle his own.
“Sweet Mama?” he asked at last.
Jesse laughed, so it must have been the right thing to say. He thumped Aidan’s arm playfully. “It annoys her; therefore, it amuses me.”
“Oh.”
“How about we get some snacks at the next gas station?”
“Yeah, okay.”
Aidan watched the sun shining through the window, lighting up Jesse’s dark hair and sparking off the red highlights. Impulsively, he reached out and fingered a strand. “I like your hair.”
Jesse went still next to him. Aidan sensed it as his posture stiffened, and he yanked his hand back. “Sorry. The color is nice.”
“Thanks,” he said.
“The sun was shining on it, and the red was pretty. I’m sorry.”
“Aidan,” Jesse said, finally looking him in the eye. “It’s okay to like my hair. I like it too.” He paused. “I kind of like your hair too.”
“You do?”
Jesse grinned. “It’s cute the way it flops over your glasses.”
Aidan scowled. “I missed my last barber appointment. I always keep it cut shorter than this. It’s too shaggy.”
Jesse tugged on the fringe hanging over his ears. “Relax, Aid. I said I liked it.”
Aidan took a deep breath and released it. “Right.”
“You were about to tell me more about your baseball stats, right? It’s not just a hobby?”
“I guess technically it is,” Aidan said, tension releasing as he launched into an explanation of the way he tracked the numbers and put them into context to make each game more predictable.
“Doesn’t that make the games boring? I mean, it’s more exciting if you don’t see it coming, don’t you think?”
“No!” Aidan exclaimed. “Watching a play happen exactly as I predicted it would based on the numbers? That’s amazing on so many levels. It’s watching math come to life before my eyes. It’s the satisfaction that everything happened just as it should. It’s … it’s predicting the future!”
Jesse laughed, but it wasn’t a mean laugh. He looked happy. “That’s more romantic than I would have expected from a math nut.”
Aidan flushed. “Yeah, well …”
“I like it,” Jesse said. “Sounds pretty cool.”
“Thanks.”
Jesse pulled in at the next gas station and went inside to buy a few snacks, while Aidan stretched his legs. He didn’t eat much and felt no desire to get dragged into another Jesse road-trip tradition of eating sugary crap.
When he returned, Jesse poured the contents of a pixie stick down his throat and turned to Aidan. “We’re nearly to Warrensburg now. Ready to pop your roadside attraction cherry?”
“My what?”
“You know, you’ve never done this before, right? Ready to see your first one?”
“I guess. I still say this is a waste of time.”
“You need to live a little.”
“I’m breathing, therefore I’m living more than a little. Though how long that will continue with you behind the wheel is anyone’s guess.”
Jesse laughed. “I bet you drive like a grandma, huh?”
Aidan snorted. “No. I drive like a grandpa, or more accurately, like a 27-year-old male who wants to continue living more than a little.”
Jesse laughed harder, to his surprise. Aidan knew he could be rude sometimes, especially when he was out of his comfort zone. Being here with Jesse, a free-spirited type of person who was likely to be annoyed with Aidan’s rigid personality, was definitely uncomfortable. But so far, Jesse hadn’t shown any irritation.
“You’re funny,” Jesse said as he put on the blinker and slowed to take the next exit. “I like it. I figured this trip would suck big hairy balls—”
Aidan made a face at the mental image.
“Not that sucking balls is always a bad thing, right?” Jesse said with another one of those winks.
Aidan couldn’t fathom what it meant. Did Jesse think Aidan sucked balls? He'd done it once with a guy who’d had a real fetish and begged for it, but it wasn’t really his thing. How would Jesse even know about it?
“Aidan, you okay?”
Jesse’s dark eyes studied his face. Aidan blinked away his chaotic thoughts. He’d probably misunderstood Jesse’s comment, that’s all. He forced a smile.
“Fine. Let’s go.”
Jesse’s smile was a little worn at the edges, but he held it as he nodded. His lips looked soft and lush, and Aidan had to rein in the urge to kiss him. He’d learned during puberty that kissing people without asking was a no-no. Jesse was lankier than the type of guy who usually drew Aidan’s eye, but he liked all the interesting touches to Jesse that spoke of a spirit so opposite his own: the color in his hair, the tattoos, the style of clothes.
Jesse was a gorgeous man, but Aidan didn’t fool himself. Guys like Jesse never liked him.
Chapter Four
Aidan stood, head tilted to the side and eyes narrowed, as he studied Boathenge in the Easley, Missouri, area outside Columbia down by the Missouri River.
&nb
sp; It was just quirky enough to meet the roadside attraction threshold, but there wasn’t much to see. A series of boats, ranging in shades from white to blue to red — all with faded, peeling paint jobs — were buried upright in the ground in a rough approximation of Stonehenge.
“What do you think?” Jesse asked, already looking forward to Aidan’s answer. He had no idea what it would be, which was half the fun.
They’d already stopped to view the Strange Steel Drum Family, in Warrensburg, Missouri. Aidan had been fascinated, in a sort of horrified way, by the scrap metal art. As an artist, Jesse could appreciate all media, and he loved the creativity in the use of old metal barrels, pails, wheel rims and other metal parts to create a combination of characters both amusing and scary with huge eyes, scowling, teeth-filled mouths, hair and other accents.
“Thanks for the nightmares,” Aidan had said after examining the sculptures from all sides.
“Aw, do you need to wait in the car?” Jesse teased.
“Too late. I want to look away, but I can’t. It’s like a train wreck.” Aidan paused. “This isn’t the kind of art you do, right? You draw people.”
Whoa. How the hell did Aidan know that? “Portraits, yeah. But I never mentioned that.”
Aidan shrugged. “Saw a sketchpad you had at a game once.”
Well, well, well. That was interesting. Aidan had noticed Jesse more than he’d realized. “You saw that, huh?”
“Ready to go?” Aidan asked, turning to go back to the car. But not before Jesse caught the hint of a blush on his cheeks. He decided not to push Aidan now, when they hardly knew each other, but he filed away the information for later.
They’d returned to the car and continued on toward Columbia and Boathenge. To reach it, they’d had to drive south of Columbia, and it was a bit out of the way. Aidan had done the math to make sure they would arrive in plenty of time for the game in St. Louis. But this stop had been inaccessible due to a recent flood washing out the road, so they’d had to hike up a trail.