Page 10 of Only Temporary

When we pull into the driveway of the house, Phillip puts it in park and turns off the engine, giving no illusion that he won’t be going inside with us. I sigh heavily and help the younger boys out of the van, taking their bags. Raegan and Cason climb out, and Cason looks at my house.

“What a shithole.”

He’s goading me. He wants me to get angry. I breathe in deeply and let it go. “It needs some work,” I admit because it does. There’s no hiding that, and I really hope Phillip doesn’t linger on the stairs.

If he falls through them, there’s no way he won’t add that to the report and be a little pissy. This calm, cool, and happy attitude he has going has to be a ploy. No way he can keep it up.

“I haven’t had time to get them beds...” I say to Phillip, who gives me a soft smile.

“Everything has moved pretty fast. It’s no problem if the kids have to camp out in sleeping bags for a couple of days. Don’t worry.”

But I’m worried. Where the hell am I going to find furniture I can afford? My mind is whirling as I try to go over how much money is in my bank account as I unlock the front door and let everyone inside.

Braylen and Kieran run inside, zooming around excitedly. It’s not much, but I know without a doubt they’ve never lived in an actual house before. Mom moved around from shitty apartment to shitty apartment my entire life. Usually a studio. We slept on the floor a lot.

Which is why Iwillget them beds. And soon. No matter what.

“Can you show me around?” Phillip’s voice is quiet as he looks kindly at me, trying to put me at ease, I’m sure, but it does the opposite. I get a weird feeling when I look into his eyes that I can’t really explain.

“O-okay. Just know that I know it needs a lot of work, okay? I’ll get it done.”

Again with the soft, calm smile that does something to my belly. I frown and then clear my throat, stepping away from him because I need some space.

Please let it be good enough.

FIVE

He’s nervous. I mean, anyone would be. This is a lot. This would be a lot for anyone who isn’t in recovery, but for someone who is? I need to make sure he doesn’t relapse. I’m trying my best not to put any unneeded pressure on him.

“Show me the boys’ room?” I ask calmly, but Kellan still looks terrified.

“Um, okay.” He starts down the hall, picking up a bra that was just casually hanging out in the hallway. He flushes, but I try to ignore it and not think too hard about the woman that likely belongs to the bra. It’s really none of my business.

He clears his throat, tucking the red lacy bra in his pocket, opening the door at the end of the hall on the right side. “I think this should work. It’s still, um, empty.” He grips the back of his neck, and I notice the way his bicep flexes. The ink he has there is more noticeable that way, clinging to the well-defined muscle.

Professional, Phillip, I lecture myself and then step into the room that’s completely empty. The older wood floor creaks when I step on it, but it’s not rotten.

“We weren’t really sure what to do with this one yet.” He looks around the room as he walks in. “We didn’t need an office, and even though the plan was eventually to get the kids from my mom, I knew it would take a while.” No doubt. It’s very hard to remove kids from their biological parents and even harder to just transfer guardianship. It doesn’t happen easily. “Anyway, we were going to rent it out or something.” His eyes widen when he looks at me. “Not that we would now at all. Don’t worry.”

I offer him what I hope is a comforting smile. “I understand. That probably would have helped a lot with the mortgage.”

He nods solemnly. “Yeah, but we’ll be fine.” The way he lifts his chin, showing determination and maybe a little bit of defiance—yeah, it does funny things to my insides. I really need to get it together. But I mean, let’s be real. I’m a twenty-six-year-old, single, gay man who spends pretty much his whole life working, and the universe decided to put the most gorgeous guy I’ve ever seen in my life right in front of me and saidlook, but don’t touch. Probably shouldn’t even look.

So I turn away, pretending to look out the window at the view—which is a pretty rundown-looking backyard. I try to get my libido to calm and clear my throat. “So the boys will be in here?”

I turn to Kellan, but before he can answer me, Cason walks in, his anger instantly apparent. “Boys? As in all three of us? You’re sticking us in one room?”

“For now. Maybe I can get a bigger house or something.” He looks at his brother, like he’s pleading with him to just be cool. But I’m not a stranger to teenage angst. This is pretty much my day most days.

“It’s actually a pretty good-sized room,” I say, looking around at the beige walls, motioning to the left. “Get a bunkbed and put it over there, maybe.” I nod to the other side of the room. “A twin bed will fit perfectly over here. There might even be room for a desk and dresser.”

Kellan looks distressed as he nods his head over and over. “Yeah. Um, I’ll get all that.”

No doubt, he’s overwhelmed by the cost, and I try to help in any way I can. “Facebook Marketplace has a lot of used furniture at good prices. They’re usually in really good condition, and there are thrift stores.”

“Can’t fucking wait to lay on someone else’s dirty-ass mattress,” Cason so helpfully pipes up.

“As if it was any better living with Mom,” Kellan snaps.

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