12
THORNE
After that dinner, things between Raff and me changed. When I looked at him, I no longer saw his brother, Bodie. Sure, they still were similar-looking, but I saw the man I knew, not the shadow of a past that had been my brother’s.
When Raff came to meals, if I was prepping, he’d come into the kitchen and chat for a few minutes, usually about what I was doing or something that happened on the ice. It was nice… normal.
I’d say we were becoming friends, but it felt like so much more than that. The notion of brothers flickered through my mind a few times, but it wasn’t that. Brothers didn’t check out each other’s asses, and I caught myself checking out Raff’s far too many times. Other than holding hands, we had done nothing I’d consider romantic, so saying we were heading in that direction didn’t work either.
I officially understood what people meant when they said their relationship was “complicated.”
About a week had passed since our dinner, and when Raff came into the kitchen today, he asked if we could get together and talk after work. While his asking to spend time with me felt good on its own, it was the “when” that mattered most to me. He’d remembered that it was the night of the week that Rupert spent with my parents. He wasn’t asking me to give up time with my nephew or to squeeze himself into an early meeting.
He just wanted to talk.
Or maybe a kiss.
No, definitely just talk… probably. Why was this getting so confusing? If it hadn’t been for Rupert, I’d have asked him straight out what was or wasn’t happening between us. But Rupert was a part of all of this, and that had me holding more in.
“I’ll text you when I’m done,” he said as he turned to leave.
Ultimately, we decided to grab a pizza and go to my place. I assumed Rupert was a significant part of what he wanted to discuss. I also assumed he wanted to review the photo albums, view the photos and art on the walls, and see his living space to confirm it was a suitable environment for him. It felt like the right next step, at the right time.
It took forever for our pizza to be done, and by the time I arrived home, Raff was waiting for me.
“I’m sorry. Did you think I wasn’t coming?”
“No, but your neighbor on this side was a little nosy.”
“Yeah, they’re that way. They say fences make good neighbors, but there’s no fence between townhomes.”
Living above the diner had spoiled me because it was the only apartment in that building. During the day there would be diner noises, and even into the night, but no one was paying attention to me. They wanted their milkshakes or pancakes or fries. Most of them probably didn’t even think about there being someone living there.
Inside the living room, I plopped the pizza on the table. “I’ll grab some plates and drinks. Want anything special?”
He shook his head. I grabbed us some water and plates and napkins. It was the perfect beer meal, but not tonight. I wasn’t sure if he had an agenda for what he wanted to talk about, and alcohol and intense conversations weren’t the best companions.
“This place is nice.” He put a slice on the plate, and I thought it was for himself, but he handed it to me and then grabbed one for himself.
It was a small gesture, but in that moment, it felt huge.
“Thanks. I lucked into it. The people before us were unexpectedly moving. I guess he got a job in France or something.”
The landlord had been sketchy about the departure to France. I filled in with a job, but he might’ve been here on a student visa and failed out. This entire street had a ton of grad students. Pre-Rupert, I’d have been nosy and asked, but now that I was the person people asked about, I was more sensitive to privacy.
“France. Well, that is a bit of a commute.” He winked.
“Yeah, and with gas prices these days.”
Raff was kind enough to laugh at my bad joke.
“I wanted to go to France, you know.” He didn’t know. I hadn’t talked about this in a long time to anyone, and when I had, it felt like the end of the world. Now? Now I was glad I couldn’t go. “I wanted to go to culinary school in France, but I didn’t qualify for a scholarship. And that kind of money wasn’t money I had.”
“Do you regret it?”
“Nah. The school I went to was fine. Besides, had I gone there, I’d probably either own or run a restaurant, and I wouldn’t have time for Rupert. Chefs work ungodly hours, especially when restaurants are first taking off. This is better.”
“That must’ve been hard for you, suddenly becoming a dad.” Raff jumped straight to it.
