Page 15 of Just A Little Fling

I hated divorces, but didn’t everyone? Nope. My current client loved them. She wanted to wrap them in bows and give them as presents under the Christmas tree. If she could have married a damn divorce, she would’ve. That was the only reason she wanted every delay and expense she demanded. This had been, by a wide lead, the most contentious divorce I’d ever handled. It was exhausting. And why I sat in my car unable to work up the energy to go inside my house.

Neither of the spouses had been faithful to the other, but they wouldn’t give an inch. It was entirely possible they hated each other when they walked down the aisle because the cheating started immediately. Both whined like obnoxious children who weren’t allowed to run roughshod over the people around them. Unfortunately, my client’s husband had found an attorney who was precisely like himself. Opposing counsel was as much of a dick as his client. And mine.

I’d spent the last week out of town doing depositions on everybody who had ever met this couple or schemed with them. As best I could tell, no one liked them any more than I did. I was billing thousands of dollars so they could fight over Tupperware and tchotchkes. I’d approached my managing partner about withdrawing from the case. Since none of them ever practiced family law, they didn’t see why this case was so problematic. Or maybe they did but liked the billable hours I was accruing for the firm, so they didn’t care. It was likely the latter, not the former. My stint as in-house family counsel was rapidly becoming untenable and beyond miserable. At some point, something would have to give.

I’d been so busy that I hadn’t even had a chance to text Sweet Boy, and that pissed me off too. We’d gotten into the habit of sending each other messages back and forth, sometimes about hooking up and occasionally about meeting at the club late at night, but mostly it was just stupid memes and how were your days. After a week, I missed him. I hated that I didn’t know what, or who, he was doing. It was unreasonable for me to be jealous, but I was anyway.

I wanted more from him than the occasional hookup. We hadn’t discussed any of that—fuck, I didn’t even know his name—but I knew he was funny, sassy, and sweet. I knew he liked to dip his french fries on both ends before eating them and was secretly obsessed with video games. It was beyond me why he felt he needed to keep it secret. I knew his favorite color was dark magenta, and he looked fucking amazing in it. I also knew he had twin older brothers he didn’t think he could compete with, although every time he called them Copy and Paste, it made me laugh. I got the impression they wouldn’t think it was funny, but I sure as fuck did. The little time I’d spent with Sweet Boy had made me happy. I wanted more of it.

Unfortunately, all that would have to wait now that I was home. The first thing I needed to do was introduce myself to my new tenant.Shit. I hadn’t even texted the guy. Owen was a great judge of character, so I wasn’t worried about that part. We’d known each other for years, were from the same town, and our mothers were best friends. If he liked the guy, then it was fine.

Still, I should’ve at least said hello, but it hadn’t even crossed my mind while dealing with the client from hell. I glanced at my phone, and even though it was nine o’clock, the lights were on in his place, so I figured it’d be all right. I forced myself out of the car, dumped my stuff in the entryway of my house, and headed out to the bungalow in the back corner of my yard. The tenant had already put out a small table with a chair to enjoy the spring blooms.

I heard what appeared to be video games on the inside, so he must have been home. However, I didn’t hear any voices. I knocked on the door and waited for him to open it within a few seconds. My new tenant appeared before me, and I was struck speechless.

“Holy shit, it’syou.”

“Sweet Boy, what are you doing here?”

“Me? What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

“Well, I wasn’t stalking you. I’m your new landlord. Uh…Levi.”

“Oh. Yeah, Owen told me your name, but, uh, yeah, okay…I’m, uh, I’m…” I wasn’t the only one struggling with speech.

“Nico. Owen told me yours too.”

And then we just stared at each other. After a few beats, Nico stepped back and beckoned me inside.

“Yeah, come on in. Let me shut off my game.” Nico was dressed differently than I’d ever seen him. Gone were the fancy suits and shiny shoes. In their place were sleep pants with Coyote and Roadrunner blowing each other up and a T-shirt with the mottoI’d Rather Be Gaming. The blanket I guessed he’d been under looked like a giant tortilla with a bite taken out of it. Owen had left most of his furniture behind, but the room was strewn with clothes and the mess typical of move-ins.

“I’m sorry I’ve been out of touch. The case I’ve been working on has been kicking my ass.”

“Owen mentioned you were out of town, but not why.”

“Yeah, a divorce that’s taking a lot of time and energy. Too much of it.”

“Cool. Cool.” Nico’s body language told me he was resisting the urge to reach out. His hand twitched, moved toward me, and then returned. Since we’d met, he’d been a touchy-feely guy. In the car, he always sought contact. In a hotel, he slept cuddled until it was time for one of us to leave. When we met for a bite to eat, he was always quick to pull me to the same side of the booth.

One of us had to get in the water first, and it needed to be me. I stepped forward and grasped his hands. I brought them up and kissed his knuckles. I felt a little tension leave his body. “I’m sorry, I’ve been MIA.”

“Oh, it’s fine. You don’t owe me an explanation. I was pretty busy myself.”

“Yeah, but we might’ve saved a potentially awkward introduction.” Nico relaxed a little more.

“It’s fine, Babbo.” Nico’s cheeky smile that I loved so much popped out. I wasn’t ready to say hello and bail, so I scrambled for a way to prolong the visit.

“What are you playing?”

“A World War I game.”

“Oh, fun.”

Nico shuffled his feet like he was embarrassed. “Do you maybe want to play with me?”

“I’d love that.”

Nico’s grin pushed my exhaustion to the back of my mind. He unearthed a second controller from the messy box and handed it to me. He offered me a drink, but I declined anything but a glass of water. He returned with my glass and a tallboy-style energy drink. The Daddy in me bristled at him drinking such an unhealthy drink so late at night. But I wasn’t Nico’s Daddy, and I wasn’t foolish enough to think our occasional hookups gave me any say about his life outside our brief scenes.

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