15. Rowan
CHAPTER 15
ROWAN
M aybe now that we’d agreed we weren’t anything, I’d stop being so painfully clumsy around Gil. It wasn’t like I’d hoped for a relationship, or wanted one, but knowing there was no possibility of us evolving into something more than neighbors who fucked sometimes should have taken the pressure off.
And it might have if I could’ve made myself stop thinking about him for more than three minutes at a time. Replacing the bathroom floor took twice as long as it should have because my mind kept wandering to Gil and how easy it was to be around him. Even when I was falling over myself and fumbling the conversation. A patient kind of understanding radiated off him, almost like he didn’t mind what a bumbling dolt I could be at times.
I burned dinner last night thinking about Gil and those test results he’d shoved in my mailbox. Neither one of us had been the most responsible at the start, but it lit a fire low in my belly to know that he’d thought about me when I wasn’t around.
Thinking about him while I was at work was the most dangerous, though Because I could ill afford for my new colleagues to see the effect it had on me. And I liked the people at me new office. It wasn’t that I didn’t like my old colleagues, but I’d always held myself apart from them for one reason or another.
Eric had often accused me of using Fisher as a reason to not have my own life. He hadn’t even stopped when I explained that Fisher was my life. He’d looked so fucking sad that I almost wanted to punch him.
And what about when he’s all grown up, Rowan? What then?
The asshole had a point. Hell, Fisher was half grown now. Twelve going on twenty. Biking to and from school every day on a bike that he could suddenly fix himself. Part of it was the help he’d gotten from Gil, and part of it was likely all the videos he’d been watching on bike repair. The point was that Fisher didn’t need me as much as he used to and Eric had been right. I needed a life outside of Fisher.
“Excuse me,” a voice caught me off-guard and my attention snapped away from my computer screen, which I’d spent the past five minutes staring at without seeing a damn thing. I turned to the doorway of my office and furrowed my brow in confusion. I didn’t have any clients scheduled for the next hour.
“Hi, can I help you?”
The man walked into my office and extended his hand. “Brian Wallace. I work in the next office over. We sometimes borrow your photocopier when ours is on the fritz, which is always. I just wanted to stop in and introduce myself.”
Brian was a bean pole of a man. All lanky limbs that he managed to maneuver with more grace than I ever could. His dark hair was artfully shaggy, the kind of look that I knew took more effort than not. Dark brown eyes sparkled at me when I shook his hand.
“Rowan Verne. I’m new here, obviously.”
Brian had a folder clutched in his other hand and my gaze drifted to it. “Did you need the copier, or have you already been?” I pulled my hand away and resisted the urge to wipe it on the side of my pants. I might not always have the best gay-dar on the planet, but when someone looked at me like I was an actual snack, it was impossible to miss.
“Oh, I’ve already been, but thanks.” Brian’s gaze slid away from me. “You have a kid? How old?”
I turned my attention to the direction Brian had been looking. He’d spotted the picture of Fisher on my desk, and anyone with eyes could tell that he was mine. “Twelve.”
“Mine too. Twelve going on fifty.” Something in Brian softened when he talked about his kid. “Jackson grew up awful fast when his dad and I divorced.” Brian shook his head and met my gaze with a sheepish one. “I didn’t mean to get all personal like that. I really did come to introduce myself.”
“It’s fine. I’m the king of awkward.” Being around Brian was easier than being around Gil for that exact reason. Around Gil I was forever flustered. Tripping over my feet and my tongue. And Gil hadn’t minded. He hadn’t minded so much that he’d left his test results in my mailbox and had promised to see me again. Tonight.
“Look, I’m going to put myself out of my misery and confess that I’d spotted this cute redhead who was new to town and I wanted to introduce myself, so I made up a story.” Brian flipped the folder open to reveal it was empty. “I’d love it if we could do lunch sometime.”
“Lunch would be fine. I’d like that.”
“Did I say lunch? I meant dinner. Maybe tonight?”
Thoughts of Gil flashed again into my head. And the truth smacked me in the face. I didn’t want to say yes to a date with Brian because I’d have to tell Gil. And I didn’t want to tell Gil because I desperately needed to know what it was like to have all of him. I was greedy and needy when it came to him. I wanted to bask in his intensity and wallow in his attention. He made me feel like prey that had been caught, rolling over in surrender. Showing him my soft underbelly.
“Ah… maybe lunch?”
Brian’s smile didn’t falter. “I knew I was pushing my luck, but you can’t blame a guy for trying. Are you free for lunch one day next week?”
Lunch I could do. Lunch during the week was hardly a date.
“I could do lunch. I’m usually free.”
“Then it’s a date.”
“It’s lunch,” I clarified, not wanting to give him the wrong idea.
Brian’s smile fell a little, but he forced it back to its full brightness. “It’s lunch, then. See you around, Rowan.”
Brian had no sooner left and I’d slumped into my office chair when Morgan appeared.
“What did Brian want?” Morgan asked as if he already knew exactly what went down and just wanted me to confirm it for him.
“To ask me to lunch.” I left out the part about him trying to get a dinner date out of me instead.
“Makes sense. You’re pretty much his exact type.”
“He’s got a thing for redheads?”
“He’s got a thing for single men.” Morgan seemed to know more about Brian, but instead of spilling it, he clammed up, tucking his knowledge away like a secret treasure. “What did you say?”
“I said yes to lunch, no to dinner.”
“He’s a good guy, Rowan. If you were looking for someone to vouch for him.”
“I really wasn’t. But dinner after a two second conversation is a little fast for me.” I ignored the fact that I’d fucked Gil without knowing him at all. Without a date. Without a nice safe get-to-know-you period. There was something magnetic about him that I couldn’t stay away from and was powerless to resist.
“My apologies.” Morgan didn’t look all that upset that I wasn’t going to go out with Brian. At least not yet. I might take him up on that dinner invitation eventually. Maybe on a night when I wasn’t itching to see Gil again.
“I did agree to lunch with him next week. But just as friends. Or people who intend to be friends. If you know him so well, you should come with us.” It would feel less like a date that way, but I didn’t want to tell Morgan that.
“I’ll see what my schedule is like.”
I wasn’t sure if he was being serious, or just using it as an excuse to say no later as opposed to saying no right now. Not that it mattered. I still had a meeting to get through. And then I had to hit the grocery store, the hardware store, and the Thai place on the way home.
Morgan slipped out of my office without a word and I threw myself into my work. Burying thoughts of Gil and Brian and whatever matchmaker bullshit Morgan had been up to, I got through the rest of my day without making an ass of myself and with minimal mind-wandering.
It was like there was a countdown clock in my brain ticking the seconds away until I got to see Gil again. It had been there since the last time I saw him and shamelessly pursued him, and agreeing to his terms had been the easy part. I had a terrible feeling there wasn’t a whole lot I wouldn’t do to see him again.
The thing about being single for so long was that I’d forgotten how nice it was to be touched by hands that weren’t mine. And Gil had amazing hands. Strong. Capable. Rough when they needed to be. Gentle when it wasn’t expected sometimes. Just like him.
I arrived home to find Fisher slumped on the couch, his earbuds in, scrolling through his phone. He raised his head and glanced at me and the pizza I carried, balanced with one hand while I hauled in the bags of groceries with the other.
“There’s another bag or two in the car. Can you go get them?”
Fisher let out a sigh, but got to his feet and shuffled out the door without shoes on. It reminded me of when he was little and refused to wear shoes for months. The only thing that got him back into shoes were the kind that lit up when you walked.
Fisher came into the kitchen and set the bags on the floor before he started rummaging around in them.
“You know you could put some of those away, right?”
He rolled his eyes, but began putting things where they belonged.
“How was school?”
“Fine.”
I eyed him for a moment, until he noticed me staring and, in true almost-teenager fashion, scoffed at me. “It was fine, Dad.”
“I was just wondering.” I tried to act more nonchalant than I felt, but the truth was I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for Fisher to come home and shrink into himself even more than usual. I was waiting to find out that moving here had been a huge mistake and that he was more miserable than ever.
“Trust me, Dad. If this place sucked, I’d let you know.” He shoved the canned goods onto a shelf with no regard for what way the labels faced or whether they were in neat rows or with similar products.
But I didn’t care about that. Fisher’s comment was high praise coming from his twelve year-old mouth. He’d been apathetic about the move, but maybe that was because he didn’t want to get his hopes up that this would be a better place. Hearing that it didn’t suck was a few steps away from hearing that he was happy here. It meant that he could be happy here, that he saw the potential.
Or maybe he was twelve and he meant that it didn’t suck and I was reading far too much into things the way I tended to do. The way I tried desperately not to about a certain neighbor and a late-night date. Only it wasn’t a date. Gil made that clear. It was just sex. Sex until I started dating someone who wanted to date me. I could live with that arrangement.