Serge wriggled around and tugged at my arm until I dropped him and stepped back. “I did not realize it was all like that, Mr. Closet Crusader. How long have you been fucking Zayden?” The visual sweep he did of my body ended with the wrinkle of his nose at my cargo shorts, which Zayden had called “Daddy wear” at least six hundred times.
Lowering my head, I was right in Serge’s face. I stared directly into his eyes until he cringed. “I’m not sleeping with him. Do not imply he’s the liar here. I’m his friend, and of all the people in this house, you’re the one who is a shitty fucking person.”
He shoved his hand into my face with a “pssh” that sounded like a tire deflating and stomped across the room. It didn’t surprise me that he slammed the front door on his way out because I hadn’t really thought Zayden had done that earlier.
“Fucking asshole,” I yelled after him. “Don’t come back!”
Sniffles behind me had me holding in a sigh. I closed my eyes.
“Oh God, is he gone?” Zayden asked. “I had to tell him… but…. Maybe I should have picked a different day.”
Turning, I held out my arms for him. “Yeah, he’s out of here. What are you talking about? Are you okay? Should I have punched him?”
As soon as I caught sight of Z’s red and swollen eyes, I wished I had sent Serge’s head through the brick wall. I hadn’t lied to Serge—I wasn’t gay, but Zayden was pretty for a man. I’d always appreciated his attractiveness for what it was, the same way you couldn’t help but nod your head when you walked by one of those nude Greek statues in a museum. You didn’t have to want dick to recognize perfection. His curly brown hair gleamed with natural blond and red highlights in the sunlight, and his watery big brown eyes were tinged with green—something out of a dream that shouldn’t be real. He stormed toward me with his soft-looking pink lips drawn into his mouth and collapsed against my front. The warmth he brought with him was friendly and familiar as he bopped his forehead against my sternum. I wrapped him up in my arms.
“Hey, Stumpy,” I said with a chuckle. He poked my gut hard with one finger, but I didn’t care.
“Will you ever drop that awful nickname?” he mumbled against my chest.
“Not as long as it makes you mad.”
“Why the hell would you want me angry?” he yowled without looking up.
“It’s better than sad,” I said quietly and rested my chin on the top of his head. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine” came a mumbled reply.
“Should I have knocked him on his ass?”
The laugh I won with my teasing sounded more like a groan. “I can do things like that myself, you know. You didn’t have to rescue me.”
“You won’t,” I said simply, because it was true, and gave him a squeeze.
“No.” He shrugged. “You’re right.”
My thoughts drifted back to the spreadsheet I was supposed to be working the bugs out of by Monday morning, but it was Saturday, and I needed to do everything I could to stop this from turning into a full-on Z meltdown.
“Let’s go out today. Have a few beers. I mean, get coffee. I think it’s free play today at the arcade on Gooding Avenue. We’ll have to fight the kids for theMortal Kombatmachine, but it will be worth it. One price, all the games we can handle.” Standing back from me, he wiped his hands over his pink cheeks and forced a smile I knew was completely for my benefit. I focused for a second on the freckles splashed across his nose and sighed. “That jerkoff is a fucking idiot.” I hooked my thumb toward the door Serge had made his less than grand exit from. “You know that, right? You’re goddamned adorable.” I tapped his cheek, and he brushed me off with a more natural-looking grin.
“You want beer?”
Shrugging, I stuffed my hands into my pockets. “I wasn’t thinking. It’s fine. I know you’re not a fan. Sorry I brought it up.”
Sighing, Zayden flung himself on the couch and rested his hands over his eyes. I tried not to smile because he’d be cranky if he saw me laughing over his dramatics. “I would foryou, but bad news. We have to go to work.”
“What?” I yanked my hands out of my pockets along with my phone. “I didn’t miss a text. What’s blowing up at the office?”
He peeked at me between his fingers. “Research for Ferguson versus Ferguson.”
“The wife who’s suing the soon-to-be ex-husband over patent theft?” I frowned and checked my phone again. “But I didn’t get a call.”
“You know how it is. He always drags me in first,” Zayden murmured.
That wasn’t news to me, but it did make me mad on his behalf. “Only because you don’t piss and moan. You need to start standing up for yourself. You’ve been the one called in the last few times.”
“Me having to cancel our date for work prompted Serge’sbig reveal,” he said, spreading his hands and wiggling his fingers. “Well… yeah, it was me needing to work.” His cheeks pinked up, and I frowned at him, but he only shook his head. This always happened at some point in his relationships. What did he say to these guys to drive them away? It made no sense. Of course, Serge was just an asshole.
“You’re better off.” I pointed at him with my phone. “Trust me.”
