Page 7 of Matthias's Protective Embrace
“Of course,” they both say. It’s been weird watching them pair up. Not in a bad way, but it’s always been the four of us. Boyfriends, and girlfriends in Aaron’s case, have come and gone over the years, but none ever stuckaround long enough to penetrate the circle. Now, Nathan and Tyler both have other people who are important to them. Which makes them important to me, too.
“Good.” I make a mental note to check in with Aaron in a few days, maybe get the whole story out of him.
“Make sure you bring coats and stuff. It’ll be cold, but we can still grill and spend some time outside.” At least my grill still works during the construction phase, though finding a clear place to set it up might be a bit of a challenge.
“Yes, Dad.” Aaron rolls his eyes at me.
Yeah, yeah. The group likes to joke that I’m the dad of the group. Always checking in and making sure everyone’s eaten enough and brought their warm clothes. Do I like to make sure people are cared for? Of course. Does it sometimes turn me into a bossy asshole? Maybe.
None of them knows that I prefer to take a Daddy role in a relationship. I don’t think they’d care, but it’s not the kind of thing we talk about. Well, Aaron might’ve guessed a while back, but he keeps his mouth shut. Maybe if I had a boy of my own, it might be worth mentioning, if only so they understood the dynamic. It’s been a long time since I even came close to something like that. Now, I mostly play at theme nights at one of the local clubs. There’s plenty of people around, but my work is my number one priority, which isn’t fair to someone. Not in that kind of relationship.
“Okay, so back to planning. Matthias, we were making weekend plans before you got here. Tyler wants to go to some festival thingy. We thought maybe we could all go on Saturday,” Nathan explains.
“This Saturday?” Aaron asks.
“Yeah, why?” Nathan looks up from his phone.
“I’ve got plans.”
“Doing what?” Nathan demands. “I thought you didn’t work this weekend.” Aaron’s schedule can be erratic, often working nights, weekends, and holidays, so it’s hard to keep track sometimes.
“Some stuff I need to get done.” Well, that sounds suspicious.
“And it can’t wait until Sunday?” Nathan asks. “It’ll be fun to see all the booths set up.”
“I’m free,” I pipe in, taking the pressure off Aaron. Besides, I could use some more social time. If I don’t go, I’ll end up sitting at my computer all day. I’ll still work, but at least I’ll get out of the house for a few hours.
I love my job and the people I work with, but I need to remember to take time off. Toiling over spreadsheets for long hours, trying to prove myself at work, has been my focus for years. It’s served me well, but I’m afraid one day, I’ll look up from the screen and realize life has passed me by. In the last year, two of my friends ended up in committed relationships. I’m happy for them, but it’s like the world changed and left me behind. I’m not sure I like it. But I’m not sure I want to change anything either.
Chapter Three
MATTHIAS
If there’sone thing that makes getting up early for work worthwhile—aside from the quiet in the office—it’s savoring a nice cup of coffee. Thirty minutes of uninterrupted me-time. No coworkers, no clients, and no emails. The minute I got my first real paycheck, I bought a professional-grade espresso machine. Worth every penny. I’m on my second one, and I’ll never go back to a simple coffee pot.
It’s a little ritual that helps me organize everything and stay focused for the rest of the day.
And if I’ve adjusted my schedule over the last two weeks so I can watch Frank arrive in the morning, well, that’s responsible homeownership. At least that’s what I plan to tell anyone who asks. Really, I enjoy catching a glimpse of him each morning. It’s stupid, considering how little I know about him. My observing, a term I prefer over stalking, has taught me a lot. Like the fact that he always arrives like he’s late, barreling out of his car and into the backyard, even though he’s often early.
I should’ve left my obsession at the water bottle, but I can’t help myself. Every morning, I refill what I’ve come to think of as his water bottle and leave it at the back door. At night, he leaves the empty bottle behind in the same place. It’s a secret language that we’re speaking to each other, except I have no idea what we’re saying. I’m not going to make a move on him. He’s more annoyed with me than interested, and I’m not interested in a relationship anyway. Doesn’t stop me from looking.
His ridiculous, lemon-colored car pulls up next to my curb, but for once, he doesn’t dart out the minute the engine stops. Instead, he frantically searches for something in the front seat and then in the back. Thankfully, I can’t hear whatever curses are coming out of his mouth. If he was my boy…
Nope, not my boy. Maybe not even a boy—though that one I’m not so sure about.
When he steps out of the car, his shoulders are hunched, and he hangs his head.That’s not good. It’s too early for whatever’s plaguing him. He opens the trunk, rifling around through the back before kicking his back tire. My heart hurts as he slumps against the car.
My feet move on their own before I can let my head talk me out of my bad idea.
“Everything okay?” I call, jogging down the path toward his car. The way he looks at me destroys any and all resolve I had to stay away. His sad eyes and bright red cheeks urge me to step in and fix his problem.
“It’s fine.”
“Are you sure?” I peek into his trunk. It’s a mess of paper, books, tools, and God knows what else.
“Iforgotmylunch.” He says it so quickly I can barely make out the words.
“What was that?” I hold back a smile.
