“What’s with all this negativity?”
He shrugged, wishing he could shrug off his thoughts and fears. He wished he could continue with Jensen, being carefree and unconcerned about the future. But he was concerned about his future. He had been for a while now.
His thirtieth birthday was less than a year away, and he couldn’t imagine doing this for much longer. Really, he was surprised he’d kept at it this long. It was supposed to be a temporary gig that paid off his debt until he could find a career he was interested in. Years later, he was still in debt and now had a massive hole in his résumé where he couldn’t put down his current job. He’d gotten himself stuck, and he didn’t know how to dig himself out. He didn’t even know if it was possible.
Every once in a while, when he was feeling particularly motivated, Daniel would look online for jobs. These stints—that usually took place in the middle of the night—only left him more disillusioned and depressed, seeing all the jobs that required a college degree and how low the others paid. Some websites even showed how many other people had already applied for the position, which always had him pressing down on his laptop’s power button like he was trying to drown his mortal enemy.
But the real problem was Daniel was his own worst enemy. He couldn’t blame his bad decisions on anyone else. He wasthe one that had gotten himself into this mess. Whether it was sheets, heaving chests, his own dismal life, or any of his failed relationships, Daniel was really good at making things messy.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m just in a mood.” He stood from the sofa, grimacing slightly at the way his jeans stuck to his legs. “I’m going to head to the gym.”
His roommates didn’t say anything as he left the room, but he didn’t miss the concerned look that passed between them. He wasn’t going to bring down the whole house because he was regretting his entire life. That wasn’t fair to them, and they hadn’t signed up to deal with his shit. He’d deal with this early onset midlife crisis the same way he did everything in life. Alone.
11
Jensenvery carefully set his cup of coffee down on his desk. While he wasn’t one to brag often, he had become exceptionally skilled at filling his mugs to a sweet spot between maxing their capacity while reducing the likelihood it would spill over on his long walk from the break room to his desk. It was a science and a fun little test on his reflexes to get the carafe to stop pouring at the right moment. The high stakes of forcing him into the break room more frequently where anyone could be waiting to smother him with small talk and the humiliating risk of spilling brown liquid on the front of his pants were always exciting. Today, though, he was getting too close to the rim for his blood pressure’s liking.
He let out an exaggerated sigh of relief as he sat in his chair and rolled his sore neck from side to side. After his call with Daniel the night before, he had fallen asleep half sitting up and was greeted with an ache that might as well have been the river that formed the Grand Canyon for how it was splitting his brain from the rest of his body.
It was worth it though. Jensen hadn’t felt so alive in his entire life, even if he was nearly falling asleep at his desk. Not that he would ever admit that to Daniel, who worried endlessly aboutkeeping him up. Jensen had started taking naps right after work so he could squeeze out every minute they had together on the phone. At the end of the day, he’d rather fall asleep at his desk than while talking to Daniel.
“Hey, Jensen?” Wyatt asked tentatively, his chair turned toward him.
He lifted an eyebrow. “Yes?”
“Isn’t that your fourth cup of coffee today?”
It was his fifth, but Wyatt was obviously working up to something and Jensen hated to prove other people’s points. “Does it matter?” he asked and brought the offending nectar of the Gods to his mouth with a hand that only shook slightly.
Wyatt glanced down at the tremor before looking back up. “Have you eaten today?”
He swallowed, feeling the caffeine rush down his throat to his empty stomach. Jensen had been pushing back his morning alarm further and further until he had just enough time to brush his teeth and get dressed before walking out the door. But again, talking to Daniel after his shifts was more important than frivolous things like a REM cycle and breakfast. Jensen had done fine in college surviving off coffee, sparse and absurdly ill-nutritious meals, and only a few hours of sleep per night. Granted, that was about fifteen years ago, and he had a much lower constitution now.
“Does it matter?” he asked again.
Wyatt’s face said more about his thoughts on the matter than he could probably ever articulate. It was so close to the look Jensen had received from his mother throughout his adolescence that he had to fight the urge to cower.
With a shake of his head, Wyatt stood up and grabbed his phone off his desk. “Come on, we’re going to lunch.”
“No, we most certainly are not.”
Jensen had a packed lunch in the break room’s dingy refrigerator that he planned to eat. More importantly, he had reserved a small conference room so he could eat and talk to Daniel without anyone listening in. Not that he wanted them to talk about anything untoward. They always kept it strictly work appropriate while Jensen was in the office, which was more than fine to him. While he appreciated masturbating with Daniel over the phone—and he really couldn’t exaggerate just how much he enjoyed that salacious development in their relationship—Jensen also loved simply talking to him.
Small talk about each other’s day and even the weather didn’t feel so small or frustrating or unimportant when it was between them. And he wasn’t going to let Wyatt take away his opportunity to know if it was sunny over there again today or if Daniel decided to buy a different brand of protein snacks to try.
“I’m going to stop fielding calls from Darlene Hancock if you don’t go to lunch with me.”
Jensen’s jaw dropped open before he stuttered, “You wouldn’t do that.”
“I would.” Wyatt crossed his arms. “And I won’t even interrupt with an excuse to get you off the phone.”
“But Mrs. Hancock never stops talking. Last time you were on vacation, I had a two-hour call with her to answer a question that took sixty seconds. She talked about the military, gun control, and immigration before finally letting me go.” That conversation, like all the other ones that included her, had taken so much out of Jensen that he left the office to walk around the city. It was so exhausting that he’d nearly crawled out of his skin when one of his coworkers asked about a joint project on his return. He’d ended up sending an email to his boss that he had an appointment and ran home like his life depended on it. In the moment, it had felt that severe. “I need you to be the buffer for her.”
“She’s just a lonely woman approaching retirement and likes to connect with people,” Wyatt said with an eye roll. “But she’s all yours unless you go to lunch with me.”
“So,” Wyatt started after the waiter left with their orders, “what’s going on with you lately? You’ve been tired, forgetting deadlines, and mainlining coffee like it’s about to run out.”
“It has run out. Multiple times, in fact. I should start a tally of how many times I’ve gone in the break room just to find out that someone took the last of it without brewing more. Surely that’s a HR violation, right?”
