Dad Next Door (Crimson Club Book 5)

6. Tristan

“It’s fine, Doc.”He smiled reassuringly. “You’re safe with me.”

My stomach clenched at his comment. He had no idea just how true that was—or how much it meant to me.

Quinn was one of the few people I inherently felt safe with. Maybe it was his open and friendly nature or how he never judged me based on what I said or how I acted. He never made me feel stupid for being awkward and encouraged me to be my weird self.

He was my closest friend, and I liked to think I was able to give him a safe space too.

“I’m gonna get really drunk next weekend.” I grinned wryly, changing the subject so I didn’t get sappy on him. Wine always made me more emotional than usual. “This is probably a good dress rehearsal so I remember to keep my trap shut and not make a scene.”

“What’s going on next weekend?” he asked.

“I have to go to a wedding.” I made a face. “And of course, Simon and Jace will be there.”

“Oof, that sounds rough,” he said sympathetically.

“Yeah. It sucks because Kim is one of my oldest friends. I’ve known her since college, but her fiancé works with Simon, so they were invited too.”

Quinn shot me an understanding look.

“The one thing no one ever talks about after divorce is how you lose your entire support system. At least I did. Most of our friends were through Simon’s million connections, so they all took his side when he left me. The ones who still talk to me or include me in stuff aren’t on my side. They’re neutral. So I can’t talk to any of them about anything because they’re still friends with him too. And I can never get a break from the Simon and Jace show. I know I sound like a big baby, but it really hurts that everyone acts like I don’t have the right to be upset that my husband left me after fourteen years together for the man he cheated on me with. It’s like I’m not allowed to be mad or not want to see him because it’s more convenient for everyone to pretend like everything is all hunky-dory.”

“That sounds incredibly lonely.”

“It is.” I sighed. “But what can I do? Starting over as an adult is so hard. Making new friends when you’re a single parent is almost impossible unless you connect through your kids. But then you run into the issue that a lot of couples don’t really want to be friends with someone who’s single. And most parent groups, especially ones for single parents, are for mothers. And I get it. Single moms need a safe space for them and their kids, but it would be nice if there were equivalents for dads.”

“My dad said the same thing about his time as a single parent. He used to ask where his village was.”

“Village?”

“Yeah, you know the saying, ‘It takes a village to raise a child.’ We lived with my grandparents when I was really young, but he raised me alone from five until I was fifteen. I watched him work his ass off to make sure we had what we needed and a little of what we wanted, but the world isn’t made for single people or families that don’t have two parents.”

“That’s the hardest part of solo parenting. I share custody of Leo with Simon, but he doesn’t do anything to actually raise or take care of him. I’m still the one who schedules his doctor’s appointments and goes to parent-teacher interviews. I still do almost all the parenting, but only get to see my son half of the time.”

Quinn pressed the side of his foot against mine. The gentle touch grounded me, stopping the anger that was threatening to spill over.

“I just wish Simon would step up and be a parent. He fought me for half custody, but it feels like he only did it because he knew it would hurt me, not because he wanted the time with our son. I know having two parents in his life is what’s best for Leo, but I worry about how this will affect him in the future. How moving between houses and never having the stability that kids whose parents aren’t divorced have. How he has one parent who continuously lets him down, which leaves me to try and compensate for everything he doesn’t get at the other house. But I’m only one person. I can’t be his parent, his playmate, and his friend, so it feels like I’m just constantly messing up and not properly filling any of those roles.”

I snapped my mouth shut. I hadn’t meant for all that to come out.

“I know there’s nothing I can say that can make your situation better, but as a kid who grew up with one parent, he sees everything. He sees how Simon acts and how you do. He knows who his real parent is, and he’ll remember all of it when he’s older and can decide which parent he wants in his life.”

“Yeah.” I sighed and absentmindedly rubbed my foot against his.

“You’re doing a good job with him, Tris. He’s a good kid. I know it’s your instinct to worry about everything, but don’t sell yourself short. You’re a good dad. The fact that you worry so much and do everything you can for him proves that.”

I blinked a few times, my eyes watering. “Thanks. I don’t hear that very often.”

“I’ll tell you whenever you need to hear it, because it’s the truth.”

Drawing in a shaky breath, I shot him a small smile. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to kill the mood.”

“You didn’t.” He smiled. “If you can’t be real with your friends, then who can you be real with?”

“True. I keep having to remind myself that it’s okay to have feelings and express them.” I grinned sardonically. “That wasn’t allowed when I was married.”

“Well, it’s not only allowed, but encouraged, with me. And I really hate your ex. Every time you tell me something new about him, it just adds to the list of all the reasons he’s a giant douchenozzle.”

I laughed, my bad mood lifting. “Douchenozzle really is the perfect way to describe him.” I groaned dramatically and dropped my face in my hands. “Next weekend is going to suck so hard, and not in a good way. Not only do I have to see Simon and Jace being the perfect couple, but I also have to call Kim this week and tell her I don’t have a plus one, even though I’ve had over a year to find one. That’s going to mess with her seating plans and her catering and cause all sorts of stress the week before her big day. All because I can’t find a date.”

“I’ll be your date.”

I snapped my head up. Quinn was grinning mischievously. “What?”

“I’ll go with you as your date. Think about how crazy it will drive Simon if you show up with your own boy toy.”

A laugh bubbled out of my chest. “You’d do that?”

“In a heartbeat.” His smile shifted to that smirky one that stirred some decidedly more-than-friendly feelings in me. “It’ll be hilarious. And it’ll give you someone there who’s only on your side. Plus, think of all the ways we can troll him.”

“Everyone will think you’re queer if you go with me.”

“So what?” He shrugged. “Most of the people in my life are queer. I’d be a giant asshole if people assuming I was too got my panties in a bunch.”

“Are you sure you want to?” I had to ask. “I mean, it would be awesome if you did, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to or anything.”

“I offered, remember?” He shot me a teasing grin. “I’m down as long as you don’t mind having me on your arm.”

“I’d love to have you on my anything!”

Quinn burst out laughing.

I laughed with him, the wine buzz making everything a bit floaty. “That didn’t come out the way I meant.”

“So, what are the details for this thing? We can do a full plan later, but I need to set my character.”

“Character?” I asked.

“Oh yeah. I’m an actor, remember? I can be whoever you want me to be. The shy nerd, a cocky playboy, maybe a confident businessman. Whatever you desire.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Think of it like Build-A-Bear, only this is build-a-date. Set the scene for me. Tell me about the bride, the guests, and what you know about the wedding and venue.” He motioned to his house. “I have another bottle of white chilling if you want to pop it open.”

I nodded. I wouldn’t usually drink this much when I had Leo with me, but Lydia was home, and she’d already told me to have fun and not worry about anything.

Quinn jumped up and strode across the deck and into his house.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket the moment the back door closed behind him and opened my web browser to look up his stage name.

He was right. All the top hits were from porn sites. I desperately wanted to check out one of his scenes, but I scrolled down the page until I saw the link to his Instagram account.

Sneaking another glance at the house to make sure he wasn’t on his way back yet, I clicked the link.

His profile filled my screen. I almost choked when I saw his follower count. I’d assumed he’d have a decent number based on how long he’d been doing this kind of work, but I hadn’t expected to see that many.

He’d told me he was active on his socials because they were his biggest marketing tool. I quickly scrolled down to see his most recent posts.

The last one had been uploaded an hour ago and was a selfie of him smirking at the camera and lifting his shirt to show off his perfect abs. The one before that was a picture of an impressive spread of food and a caption about being blessed and having good times with his friends. The time stamp suggested it was from when he’d had his friends over.

I quickly perused his photos. Most were either workout shots or selfies where he was showing off various body parts and giving the camera a cocky and arrogant smirk-smile.

Something about that smile was off. It fit the hot guy influencer aesthetic, but it was cold and nothing like the man I knew.

Promo posts were sandwiched between thirst traps, and he’d uploaded a few heavily edited nudes that just skirted the line between explicit and implied. I checked out the comments section on one of his most liked photos, where he was stretched out on a bed with the corner of the sheets carefully arranged over his dick to cover it. The photo was arguably one of the hottest I’d ever seen, but the mass of lewd and disgusting comments made my skin crawl.

“Like what you see?”

“Jesus!” I bobbled my phone, managing to catch it on my knees before it clattered to the deck.

Quinn flopped down on the couch next to me, a shit-eating grin on his too-handsome face.

“Would you believe me if I told you I wasn’t looking you up and was checking the news?” I asked, tucking my phone away.

He poured two glasses of wine. “We can pretend if it’ll make you feel better.”

“You really don’t care that I can just look you up and see everything?”

“Nope. I wouldn’t have gone into sex work if I did.” He pushed one of the glasses toward me. “So, what did you think?”

I settled in my seat. If Quinn wasn’t going to be weird about things, then I sure as hell wasn’t either.

Knowing he’d filmed porn was a bit strange, but only because I’d never met anyone who was in the industry. The picture I’d had in my head about what sex workers were like didn’t match the Quinn sitting across from me. I hadn’t fully understood what he meant when he’d said it was an acting job, but after looking at his Instagram and seeing the kind of stuff he posted in contrast with who he was as a person, it was obvious his online persona was a role he’d created to sell his work.

“You really like to show off your abs,” I said when he sat quietly, waiting for my answer.

He laughed and patted his stomach. “People love ab shots. Wanna know a secret?”

“What’s that?”

“Those abs are all angles and poses.” He lifted his shirt and showed off a relatively normal-looking stomach. It was still flat and toned, but the washboard abs were absent. “Now check this out.”

He flexed. The move transformed his fit stomach into the airbrushed one from his Instagram posts.

“Holy shit.” I leaned closer to examine him. “How is that possible?”

“Like I said, angles and posing.” He relaxed, and his stomach went back to normal. “I don’t edit or add filters to my photos because it’s impossible to maintain that on film, but also because I don’t like how they’ve become normal. I can only imagine what seeing all these filtered and edited photos is doing to people’s self-esteem, especially teenagers. But I guarantee that model is flexing and using their angles in every ab shot you see online.”

“I had no idea.” I sat back as he dropped his shirt. “But I see why your Instagram is as popular as it is. I can only imagine what your other socials look like.”

He grinned and sipped his wine. “You went for my Insta first? I thought you’d go right to the porn.”

“I was tempted.” I chuckled and swirled the wine around in my glass. “But I figured I’d need more time to truly appreciate the scenes.”

Quinn laughed, his cheeks pink and his eyes bright. Was he feeling the wine buzz too?

“Well, I look forward to your thorough analysis later. But back to the wedding and making Simon’s head explode with jealousy.”

“Right, the fake date.” I crossed my legs and rested my ankle against my knee. “As much as I like the idea of customizing a date, I’d rather you go as yourself.”

“Really?” He looked surprised.

“Yeah. You’re already giving me massive clout by being ten years younger than me and a literal model. But even without that, you’re smart, a great conversationalist, and an amazing person. Anyone would be proud to have you, Quinn, on their arm. You don’t have to pretend to be anything because you’re already everything.”

Quinn stared at me for a few beats, his gaze intense and probing.

I cycled back through what I’d just said. It was the truth. Had it come out wrong?

He cleared his throat and lifted his glass to his lips to take a long swallow. “Sounds like a plan. Now, tell me everything I need to know about the couple, Asshole McDouchenozzle?—”

I let out a snort of laughter that was so loud it hurt my nose. “Asshole McDouchenozzle?”

“Too nice for Simon?” Quinn quirked his eyebrow playfully. “We could go with Douchey McDoucheface.”

I toasted him with my glass. “Asshole McDouchenozzle it is.”

Quinn leaned forward and clinked his glass with mine.

I relaxed in my seat. “Ready for a crash course in wedding attendees and what you can expect?”

“Hit me.” Quinn made a bring it motion with his hand.

Grinning, I started listing the details of the wedding and reception.

I’d been twisted up in knots for months about showing up to the wedding alone, but all that stress was gone and replaced with excitement, knowing Quinn would be there with me.