Page 30 of Reaching Roland

“Oh my gosh. I’d appreciate it if you stopped calling yourself old.” We stood and grinned at each other. Finally, I pointed toward the door. “I better get back out there.”

As he followed me out, he asked, “You want to go to the Farmers’ Market tomorrow morning?”

Did I? Yes. Should I? No. Would I? Abso-fuckin-lutely. “Yeah, I'd like that.”

He gave a wave of his hand to all of us, stopping to say thank you to Sylvia and left. I went back to work, hoping that no one noticed the dopey grin on my face. He was my buddy, my outing companion. That was all. Maybe I should start calling him Rolly like Indie did. Maybe that would keep my mind and heart from wandering down the wrong path. Even though I'd never had a Daddy, or even thought about having one, I had to admit it was messing with my head a little referring to him that way. After all, I was surrounded by boys with their super-attentive Daddies, and it was looking more attractive every day.

It wasn't normal, but Austin, Michaela, and I ended up with a break in customers at the same time, so we headed into the break room for lunch. I was halfway through the Italian sub that Roland had brought me when I felt the weight of their heavy stares on me. Looking up, I asked, “What? Do I have something on my face?” I dabbed around my mouth with a napkin.

“No,” Austin said. “Nothing like that.”

“But we are a little concerned, sweetie,” Michaela said.

“About what?” Like I didn't already know. Working together, day in and day out, Austin and Michaela were privy to more of the personal details of my life than anyone else. It was easy to hide from my friends down at the LBB or from Will if I was upset or hurt about something or someone, but it was virtually impossible with these two. They knew my every expression.

“Kenny, you've been spending an awful lot of time with Roland,” Austin said.

“Not too much,” I denied with a shrug of my shoulders.

“Try again. My son is dating Julian, remember? And he’s besties with Indie, who gossips about every time you and Roland hang out.”

Internally, I groaned. “What's the big deal? It's only been a couple of weeks, and it's not like we're dating. We're friends.”

Michaela leaned forward and propped her elbows on the table. “That's exactly the issue. I'm worried that if you continue spending so much time with him that you're going to get your heart broken.” She held up a hand. “I know, I know, you’ve told us repeatedly that you're just friends. I'm worried that the only reason you say that over and over is because you're the one who needs to hear it.”

She wasn't wrong, but I wasn't going to admit that to them. Once I said it out loud, then I'd have to really take a look at the situation and make some changes. Unfortunately, I was pretty sure that I was too far gone already. Spending time with Roland was like nothing I'd ever experienced in my life. He held every door, he listened to every word out of my mouth, and he did little things for me—like bringing me lunch—all the time.

Plus, there were all of the text exchanges during the day and our chats at night on the phone before we went to sleep. It had been so damn long since I felt so seen, if ever. The thought of going back to the loneliness I'd been drowning in was… I didn't even want to think about that. The reality was, I couldn't handle this close relationship with a man who'd never want me as their life partner forever, so sooner or later, it would be time to seriously consider moving back to the LBB.

Austin cleared his throat. “We’re sorry about butting in. We know that Roland’s a fantastic guy, but he’s…”

“Straight, I know,” I said, sighing.

Michaela reached over and grabbed one of my hands, while Austin grabbed the other. “We just love you, honey. We want you to be happy.”

“I know.” The thing was, I was pretty sure that all Roland wanted was for me to be happy, too, and he might well be the person who finally broke me.

Roland

Kennyand I had had such a good time at the Farmers’ Market last Sunday that we decided to hit it up again. I didn't know what had changed since that first night at his house when he told me how he’d bonded with Knight, Ace, and Joshua, and I didn't think anything had changed for him, but I was struggling to see him the same way. I'd been so happy to finally have someone to hang out with, to finally be getting out of the house for more than dinner by myself at The Tap while watching my sons work. And while I enjoyed all of my handyman projects, and interacting with Miss Georgina’s neighbors, it wasn’t the same as spending time with Kenny, talking and laughing and… smiling. I didn’t realize how little of that I had in my life the last several months until he shined his outgoing, sunshiney personality on me.

“Hey, Daddy, I think we should go down the shore on the Fourth of July and watch fireworks.”

I gasped. “Are you insane? Do you know how much traffic there’s going to be just driving south down the Parkway to get there?”

He laughed. “Of course, I know. Hello, I drive home all the time.” This wasn't the first time he mentioned how often he went to see his parents and friends, but in the last month that we'd been spending time together, he hadn't gone once. What made that even more curious was the fact it was the summertime. Most people would kill to have a place to stay near the beach this time of year, and they’d take advantage of it as often as possible.

I stopped next to a vegetable stand overflowing with corn-on-the-cob. “How about some corn for dinner?”

“That's a good idea,” he said, stepping up next to me and picking through the fresh produce.

While we worked, I wondered more about his comment. Was he forsaking spending time with his people because he felt like he had to entertain me? I didn’t want to intrude on his life. I cleared my throat. “Kenny?”

He stopped and spun toward me. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Why in the world would you think that?” I asked, wishing he didn’t have on yet another pair of fun sunglasses that matched his outfit. I preferred gazing into his eyes when we talked.

“Well,” he squished up his nose, and I startled at the urge to lean forward and peck my lips to the tip of it.What the heck?I’d dropped some kisses on the top of his head when he was emotional, but doing it now was a whole other level. “You rarely call me by my real name anymore. Sometimes, when we’re in front of people at the salon, but never when we’re alone like this.”

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