Don't Tell My Brother

Chapter 3 - Can't Avoid Him

The rest of the afternoon passed smoothly. Lucas had managed to calm down, after hiding out in the pantry, taking a few deep breaths, and reminding himself that this didn't matter. Damien was just an annoying coworker. Everyone had annoying coworkers. It was fine. He just did what he always did: put him head down, stayed under the radar, and got back to work. If it worked at school it'd work here. Besides, Damien was far too busy flirting with Casey and working out the register to pay much attention to him. The flirting was a little sickening, but Lucas did his best to ignore it. Whatever Damien was saying to her was working, though, because Casey looked like she might melt at any moment, like butter in a hot pan. Gross.

Finally, closing time came. Lucas took down the open sign and began to wipe down the tables, his usual routine. Lisa leaned over the counter, checking her phone and looking harried.

"Lucas, do you mind if I dash? I can trust you and Damien to close up, right?"

Something was obviously urgent, and usually Lucas would've agreed without complaint, but with Damien?

"What about Casey?" He blurted out, realising only after he said it that he sounded like a petulant child.

Lisa gave him a stern look. "She's already left, like she always does on Sundays. I don't want to ask again, Lucas."

It was best not to argue with Lisa when she sounded like that. Supressing a sigh, Lucas nodded. With a grateful smile and a wave, Lisa jogged out of the store, the door shutting behind her and sealing him and Damien into the bakery.

It was oddly silent. Lucas tossed his cloth onto one of the tables and rested his hands on his hips and he glanced around the store. The sun was setting, orange-gold light casting shadows across the wooden floorboards, and everything was still. He couldn't even hear Damien. Which, Lucas realised, probably meant he wasn't doing any work.

Arriving in the kitchen, he found he was right. There was a stack of dirty dishes by the sink, and Damien was leaning against the wall, grinning as he tapped something out on his phone.

Lucas cleared his throat, loudly, and Damien looked up.

"You were supposed to be doing the dishes." Lucas reminded him, the exasperation clear in his voice. It was such a simple task, he had trouble believing even Damien wouldn't be able to do it.

"Right." Damien said, not even trying to sound apologetic. "Looks like I didn't, though. Help me out?"

He gave Lucas a charming, slightly crooked smile, flashing pearly white teeth and the shadow of a dimple. Lucas took a deep breath, and counted to ten.

"Fine." He huffed, nudging past Damien to get to the sink. "You wash, I'll dry. Come on." His tone was sharp, and left no room for argument.

Still, to his surprise, Damien strolled to the sink and began to fill it with hot water.

"You're the best." He was still wearing that same, infuriating smirk.

Lucas couldn't tell if he was making fun of him or not, and decided that he wasn't going to care. He took the dish Damien handed him, and began to dry it. For someone who was supposed to be calm, Lucas was scrubbing the bowl very intensely, gripping the towel hard enough to make his knuckles white.

"So, Lucas." Damien began, after what couldn't have been more than half a minute of silence. He'd pronounced Lucas' name wrong, too. Like Luc-ass.

Lucas grit his teeth. "Do you really think that's funny?"

"Nah, not really. What's funny is seeing you get all mad." Damien put on an exaggeratedly pouty frown, mimicking Lucas.