Page 33 of A Minute More

Explain what, I have no idea. But I’m sure the words will come to me when I see him. They have to.

As soon as I stumble up the driveway, I see Simon standing on the porch, another man with him. And all those words I was hoping would miraculously appear just refuse to form.

The man with him looks large and fierce. Why the fuck did he bring him? Did he feel unsafe? Oh god, I made him feel unsafe.

My heart plummets as I make my way meekly toward them.

“Hey,” I say softly and then gesture toward the door. “You guys want to come in?”

I don’t even make introductions. Maybe this is his new boyfriend, come to protect Simon from big bad me.

Damn, I feel like a tool.

Simon nods and enters the house, the unknown man following closely behind him. My eyes land on the way their bodies move, neither of them touching the other, so maybe they’re not together. Maybe he’s just a friend.

“Who’s this?” Lucas asks, standing up from the kitchen table, a beer and a slice of pizza in his hands.

“Um, this is Simon and uh….”

The man reaches around Simon and extends his hand toward Lucas who stuffs his pizza in his mouth to shake it. Kind of gross, but whatever works, I guess.

“Seth,” he says.

Ah, so Seth and Simon, how cute, my mind hisses before I toss that thought away. I have no right to think that…absolutely no right. I sound like a jealous boyfriend and that’s just…insane.

I amnotinto men.

Simon shuffles on his feet, peeking over at me, and I offer him a friendly soft smile. I won’t hurt you again, I try to tell him with my eyes, not sure that it works. He looks away too quickly to catch any hidden meaning.

“Cool. So, Seth, you want to come see what I’ve been building in the garage?” Lucas asks, chewing around a bite of pizza. “You like wood?”

Seth eyes Simon who gives him an imperceptible nod and then Lucas leads Seth into the garage, leaving us alone.

Damn, I’m nervous.

“Hi,” I say lamely, and Simon mutters his response, a soft hello that sends flutters through my chest.

“Want something to drink?” I ask and then amend, “I mean, water or soda…we may have juice….” My words trail off and dissipate into the grasping silence between us.

“Water would be nice.”

Moving into the kitchen, I hand him an unopened water bottle. He twists the top off and takes a small sip. I watch it all, the way his lips attach to the rim, the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. He looks fucking hot right now.

So. Fucking. Hot.

“So, um, I need to apologize…I feel like I assaulted you at work and…”

Simon shakes his head. “It was unexpected…but I didn’t feel assaulted.”

Relief surges through me. “You didn’t?”

“No, you didn’t hurt me.”

I take a step closer to him, feeling a tingling in my skin. From this distance I can smell him, can feel him in the deepest parts of me, infusing into my senses like incense.

“Fuck,” I say, crowding him. His arms fall to his sides, the water bottle hanging limply in his hand.

“What were you trying to do?” he murmurs, his eyes peering up at me. Those depths that remind me of the Mariana Trench, unknown secrets lurking behind those deep waters.

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