Up My Alley (Dahlia Springs)

Chapter 1

LEO

I braced myself for a sneeze as the invisible cloud of pollen choked me as I trudged up the steps to my apartment. The Oregon spring was going to be brutal on my allergies.

I nodded at a passing neighbor whom I’d never said more to than, “Rain’s sure pissing down today.

” I missed knowing my neighbors’ names as I had at my old place.

It was rough going from a ranch-style house tucked away in a charming cul-de-sac to a cookie-cutter apartment with two shared walls and no garage.

A mechanic without a garage was as sad as a landscaper without a yard.

I reached the landing outside of the apartment and rolled my shoulders.

It’d been a long day at work, and I didn’t want to carry the tension into the sanctity of bowling night later.

Our league games were the highlight of my week.

My one escape from the stress of the real world.

I always had a blast with my best friend and roommate, Hudson.

He loved bowling night as much as I did.

Hudson. I adored the guy, but he’d indirectly been the source of my stress today, thanks to the endless torment by my coworker and close friend, Ollie.

Ollie often gave me a hard time about how close Hudson and I were, but for whatever reason, he’d escalated.

Mercury must be in retrograde. Ollie had better cut the shit and not bring his shenanigans to league night.

I was used to good-natured ribbing whenever Hudson made my favorite cookies or I turned down grabbing beers at Tap That Brewery with Ollie to watch TV with Hudson. But today, Ollie came at me with variations of “you act like a couple, so why not make it official?”

I’d never considered dating a man, but this teasing hit different. I should’ve been able to brush it off like all the times before.

I unlocked the door and left my boots on the mat Hudson bought for my “grease-stained monstrosities.” The first time I’d worn them around the house and marked the floor, I had expected a vessel to burst in Hudson’s temple.

The man was particular about how he wanted things at home, but I didn’t mind since our place was always clean and comfortable.

Well…the communal spaces were. My room did not meet Hudson’s exacting standards.

“Honey, I’m home.” He didn’t respond, but I heard him moving around in the kitchen.

I was mesmerized by his wild auburn curls bouncing as he bopped to music I couldn’t hear.

He swiped his rag across the refrigerator shelf in time with his hips while crouching.

The man was in the zone. He’d emptied the fridge contents onto the parallel counters in our narrow, too-sterile kitchen.

Aww, he’d even wiped the dried goop off my ketchup bottle.

Teasing from the guys at the shop—those less kind than Ollie—filtered through my mind.

Jokes that I’d divorced my high school sweetheart only to find someone else to take care of my sorry ass.

Quips about me being Mr. Social Butterfly, who was so terrified of being alone that I’d regressed to roommate living.

I was lucky I’d met Hudson through our bowling league and that we’d clicked quickly as teammates, buddies, and then genuine friends.

When our marriages fell apart last year, it made sense to move in together to save money.

The daily company and not having to cook for one was a bonus, but I didn’t need it.

Hudson awkwardly head-banged to whatever song he was listening to—right into the freezer door.

I rushed over and squatted next to him. “You okay?”

When Hudson spotted me, he threw his cleaning cloth in the air and made a hilarious sound that was the lovechild of oink and shriek. “Leo! You scared the heck out of me.”

Even when startled, he wouldn’t let a curse word slip through his prim and proper lips.

The only thing not completely put-together about Hudson was the hair he always failed to tame.

He kept it long enough to be messy instead of forcing it into submission with a short cut like mine.

It was the only slice of chaos he regularly tolerated.

I grabbed the cloth and handed it to him. My breath caught when his fingers brushed mine.

“Are you sneaking up on me now?” He pulled an earbud out as he stood, tossed the rag in the sink, and selected a clean one from his neat stack. I’d learned that Hudson had specific rags for various purposes when I accidentally used a kitchen rag to clean my bathroom.

“Not my fault you were rocking out and didn’t hear me come in.” I pulled a Gene Simmons, making devil horns with my fingers and sticking out my tongue.

He frowned. “Hey, I listen to cool music.”

I raised my hands in peace. “You’re right, ‘Barbie Girl’ is a total banger.”

Hudson swatted me with the clean rag. “We can’t all be as cool as you, listening to AC/DC like it’s your entire personality.”

“I can’t help that I have superior taste in music.” I scanned the fridge contents on the counter for something to snack on since lunch had come and gone a long time ago.

Hudson closed the fridge door and walked over to the sink. He tugged off his rubber cleaning gloves and washed his hands for the full twenty seconds. I counted.

I pulled my attention away from his long fingers and noticed something new on the fridge door.

He’d moved our spring league schedule up to the freezer door to make room for a dry-erase board with Hudson’s tidy letters on the left and columns on the right.

A creeping dread crawled up my spine as I moved to get a closer look.

I glared at Hudson, ignoring the dimple deepening in his freckled cheek as he bit back his smirk. “Did you seriously buy a chore chart for me?”

“It’s not just for you. General Ledger’s on there too.” He pointed to a stick figure cat doodle next to a row that read “look cute” with stars already filled in for each day. “I thought you’d appreciate the colors.” There was laughter in his voice.

I did notice it matched the neon green and black of our Gutterade team bowling shirts, but that didn’t make the idea of a chore chart any more palatable.

“Neon green isn’t gonna make me want to do the dishes, man.”

“Well, the high-tech iPad with the Trello board full of chore tasks didn’t either. Maybe if you see this every time you go into the fridge, you’ll remember when it’s your turn to take out the trash.”

His snarky attitude took me back to college when my roommates and I had argued about how to split the utility bills, who ate the last of the cereal, and how sick the milk might make us when it smelled like that .

If one of them had introduced a chore chart, I would’ve been pissed off.

It probably would’ve sparked a fight with my ex-wife too.

But as I watched Hudson flip through the condiments and decide how to arrange them in the fridge, I was more amused than exasperated.

A lot of what Hudson did amused me. How he talked to his cat, General Ledger, like she was an adult human.

How he said he hated scary shows but watched them with me anyway—even if he talked the whole time.

How he said I deserved to have my tastebuds removed for the “culinary violation” of putting ketchup on my steak.

I’d had a lot of male friends throughout my life, but none of them were as special to me as Hudson. Either our friendship was different or…or…I didn’t know how to fill in that blank.

Maybe my response to Ollie giving me shit and the resulting confusing feelings meant it was time to date again.

Hudson might like it if I did since he was more introverted than me and was probably tired of me forcing him to spend so much time together as my closest friend, roommate, hobby companion, and general entertainment.

Yikes. Yeah. That was too much to put on one person.

He didn’t need to be the center of my social life and emotional support.

I should take Ollie up on his offer to help me make a dating app profile.

Deep thoughts for league night. I grabbed a slice of the sharp white Tillamook cheddar Hudson always had on hand, folded it, and shoved it in my mouth. He snatched the bag from me, which…fair. I had a bad habit of eating all his cheese.

“How was work?” I leaned against the counter. I would offer to help, but he had a system, and I would only get in the way.

He groaned.

“That bad, huh?” I watched him refill the crisper drawers with the produce he used for his breakfast smoothies.

“Good ol’ Jimmy.”He said the words with about as much enthusiasm as announcing he had appendicitis.

I bit back a laugh at Hudson’s refusal to curse and call his boss an asshole like the man deserved.

“What did he do this time?” I understood little about Hudson’s accountant job beyond knowing it wasn’t Hudson’s fault when departments overspent their budgets.

It was somebody else’s job to plan that shit in advance, but Hudson always got the blame when people didn’t do what they were supposed to.

Then he had to scramble to fix the money troubles.

He ran through the latest bullshit from his boss as I stole another piece of his cheese. I’d buy him a new pack.

“How about I drive so you can drink and relax? It’s Friday night, and you don’t have to see that jerk for two more days. Live it up.” My stomach did a weird little flop when he aimed his lopsided smile at me.

If anything could help me shake off the lingering weirdness from the day, it was league night. The best way to kick off a low-key, uneventful weekend. Something Hudson and I desperately needed.