The phone rang almost instantly, Charlie’s name blinking onto his screen. “Yes?”
A sound like white noise filled his ear before Charlie said, “You’re scaring me, Wyatt. What’s going on with you?”
“Are you in an Uber?”
“No, I bought a car,” she said casually. “Don’t change the subject. What’s your deal?”
Leave it to Charlie to just buy a car on a whim. “What do you mean? Nothing,” he lied, gaze straying outside once more.
“Is it your dad?”
He used his pointer finger to poke holes in the remains of his mutilated sandwich. “No. I mean, no more than usual.”
There was a slight pause. “So, it’s Linc.”
Wyatt ducked his head, his response a harsh whisper as if Linc might somehow overhear. “I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to. It is, isn’t it? Did he do something wrong? You two seemed so cozy this morning.”
“That’s just it. We were… we are. It’s just…” he started before falling silent once more.
Charlie sucked in a breath. “Oh, honey. You’re falling for him, aren’t you?”
His laugh was harsh, jarring even. “Falling? More like fallen. I’m there. I’m in it up to my eyeballs. Not that it matters. But there it is. Figures, I can’t even do a fling without fucking it up.”
Once more, she hesitated. “Have you talked to Linc about how you feel?”
“What? No! Never. My crazy isn’t his problem. I’m sure my psychosis is already way more than he bargained for.”
“He’s super protective of you. His answer might surprise you.”
He hated the pity in her voice, like she was hopefully optimistic but just as leery as he was. “It doesn’t matter. It would never work out. Linc is only here long enough to collect his fat check then he’ll be long gone taking care of his dad, and I’ll still be here pretending to be the perfect son. What’s the point?”
“The point is, it doesn’t have to be this way,” she snapped. “You could have a life. You don’t owe your father shit. I’ve told you this a million times. Leave, live your own life. You can come live with me. We can be YouTube famous and live off my parents.”
Wyatt’s stomach sloshed. Charlie just didn’t understand. He couldn’t just live off Charlie and her family. Besides, his father was right. He had no marketable skills. He was impulsive, argumentative, unable to do even the simplest household task. Wyatt didn’t even know how to write a check. His father would never let him go, anyway. He’d spend the rest of his life harassing Wyatt if he ever dared try to leave. That woman from the press was already fishing around about Wyatt’s past; how long before she figured out Wyatt was gay? The thought didn’t scare him as much as it once had, but his father’s wrath did.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Linc rise and walk toward the house.
“I gotta go.” He didn’t wait for her answer before ending the call.
Outside, the weather changed as quickly as Wyatt’s mood. Black clouds now blotted out the sun, painting the whole sky in shades of gray, gearing up for their daily afternoon thunderstorm. Linc slid the glass door closed behind him just as the first rumbles of thunder rolled across the sky.
Linc frowned when he saw the remnants of Wyatt’s lunch, noting the open jar of peanut butter and the sticky knife. “Clean that up. Graciela does enough around here without having to deal with shit like this. You know better.”
Linc wasn’t wrong, but Wyatt didn’t care. “She’s the housekeeper. She gets paid really well to clean up ‘shit like that.’ It’s literally her job,” he reminded Linc, tone flippant.
A shiver rolled over Wyatt when Linc’s brow shot up, his voice dropping a full octave. “Did I ask for a debate? Clean it up. Now.”
“Or what?” Wyatt asked, crossing his arms over his chest like a sulky teenager.
Linc came around the counter, looming over his shoulder. “You know, if you want me to punish you, you could just ask nicely,” he murmured against his ear.
Wyatt’s cock hardened in response, goosebumps erupting along his skin, but he wasn’t done. “It’s not always about that,” he snapped.
Linc turned the stool until they were face to face. “Then what is it about?”
The weight on Wyatt’s chest was back, crushing him. What was he doing? Why was he poking at this? He would never get the answer he wanted. He needed to learn to enjoy what he had now. “Nothing, just forget it.”
