“No worries, bed frames and coffee tables are my archenemies, so I’ve definitely done that before.” Still feeling bad, I try for a little humor. “Though, it was a new experience to have someone else do it for me. Will just file this under lessons learned: don’t frighten Roly when he’s cooking.”
“That’s right, Papa Bear. I’m unpredictable.” Roly’s going for funny and hey-this-doesn’t-bother-me attitude, but he’s not quite hitting the note that makes it believable.
God, this sucks.
Jonathan looks between us and smirks.
Not sure what he’s smirking about.
Chapter Six
Roly
Two days later, and I’m still pissed about how my dinner with Heath went. Or didn’t, as the case may be. It feels like I’m going on a series of really bad dates, and Idon’t fucking date.
Anyway, I’m at the front desk, angrily stapling the hell out of the new schedule, pissed that I’d forgotten to print these double-sided, and too annoyed to redo it and waste all of that paper. After a few minutes of this, the hairs on the back of my neck lift up and agitation prickles across my skin.
I turn my head and see my tattooed silver fox hookup, who I hadn’t seen since Heath’s moving day. “Goddammit, Everett! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
His white smile and blue eyes are dazzling. “Sorry, cutie pie. Bad habit I picked up in the sandbox.”
“Then you should know better to do that around a bunch of jumpy vets.” I put my hand on my chest, thankful that my heart has gotten the memo and is slowing down.
His face warms. “I am very sorry, and will be more careful going forward.”
“Eh, at least you’re pretty,” I say, trying to flip the mood with a little flirting.
He bites his lip and leans forward, resting his weight on his powerful, tattooed arms. Looking around, he asks conspiratorially, “You mind if I show up on Bear Night? I know I don’t exactly qualify, but it’s the best night for me to work out.”
I laugh and put my hand on his arm. “Honey, even if it wasn’t okay, I’d make an exception for you. And don’t think I don’t know that you’re just trying to poach the twinks that show up.”
He chuckles to himself. “Guilty as charged. I mean, that is the best night for me to make it to the gym, but— Oh, hello there.”
I follow Everett’s gaze and see a trim Latino man—actually shorter than me—looking at the big wall mural of Nick’s before-and-after shots. Heh. Definitely gay. Definitely on Everett’s radar. He’s cute enough that I bet Heath would lethimmake dinner.
Not that it matters who cooks for Heath.
I mean, who knew that you weren’t supposed to cook tomatoes in a cast-iron skillet? I bet it doesn’t even mess with it that much. Geez, just pour a little more oil in the pan and move on.
Everett taps my shoulder. “Um, shouldn’t you be helping out this lovely man?”
“Oh, yeah. See you at Bear Night, sweetie.”
Everett looks again at the smaller man, then heads to the gym area.
Remembering that I run a business, I put on a semblance of professionalism.
He looks nervous, so I slip into Spanish. “I’m sorry—didn’t hear you come in. How can I help you?”
The guy seems worried, and his eyeballs ping between me and the departing silver daddy action. Not that I could blame the guy. Everett’s ass is a masterclass in gorgeous, muscly roundness. “Um.Necesito uno papel de… um, application?”
I rip my eyes from Everett’s ass when I hear the garbled Spanish. “Shit, dude, sorry about that. Totally assumed. Just a bit off today, really. And, uh, I can give you a paper application if you’d like, but there’s a form on the site that might be easier since you can copy and paste your information.”
“I’ll take the paper application, if it’s all the same to you.”
I stop at the sound of his accent. “Hal ‘ant min aleiraq?” I ask in Arabic.
“My parents are from Iraq. I’m from San Antonio.”
