Chapter Twenty
Adam
I don’t know what I’m doing.
Almost kissing Emmet in the bathroom was one thing, but inviting him over my house in the middle of the night is another. I should have told him I was going home to bed, but I’m not ready to say good night.
I wasn’t lying when I said playing video games with him was the most fun I’ve had in years.
I can’t remember the last time I did something for myself.
Everything is about the kids, and before that, everything was for Leslie.
The last time I put focus on myself was when I was a teenager.
Then, it all stopped. At the time, I thought life was good.
I was getting everything I wanted—a family.
I was getting married, and we were going to have kids that I could be an amazing father to. It was my dream.
It’s still the best thing I ever did. I love my kids more than anything, but I keep forgetting about me.
How good am I for them if I’m miserable?
I’ve faked it for so long, and for so long it’s been easy, but now that I have a taste of something more, now that I have Emmet reminding me of all these things…
I find myself fighting for happiness. It isn’t just there like it was a few months ago.
Though, if I so easily feel this way now, maybe it wasn’t really happiness at all.
Maybe my facade has been shattered—or at least weakened.
I can’t tell if this is a good or bad revelation, but I do know that I’m tired of life kicking me in the ass, and for once, I just want to have a good night. I want to have fun and not worry about a damn thing. Zero responsibilities tonight.
When we get to my apartment, I pull out a frozen pizza and two boxes of mac and cheese.
“Seriously?” Emmet laughs.
“Do you have a better idea?” I ask.
“Are you putting the mac and cheese on the pizza?” he asks.
I look from the boxes in my hand to the pizza on the counter. “That sounds amazing.”
I grab a pot, fill it with water, and put it on the stove, then turn the oven on to preheat. Emmet gets the pizza out of the box and puts the pizza stone into the oven to heat up.
“I only have beer here,” I say.
Emmet shrugs. “I’m fine with that.”
I pull two from the fridge, popping the top and handing it to him, then do the same with mine.
“Aren’t we not supposed to be mixing alcohol?” I question as I look at the can.
“I’ve already accepted that I’m going to have a horrible hangover.”
“That’s one way to look at it.”
“So, you have nothing here to do for fun? No video games?”
“Nope,” I say. “The kids have some board games.”
“Anything fun?” he asks.
I lead him into Judy’s room closet, where a stack of board games sit on the top shelf, piled to the ceiling. Most of them are Disney-themed games, but there are a few we could have fun playing.
“Guess Who!” he shouts, shoving past me to get it. I can’t help but laugh. “You know what I always wanted to do with this?”
“Uh, what?” I ask, closing the closet door.
“Put pictures of people I know in here. Like family or from high school or something.”
I huff out a laugh. “That’s actually a really good idea.”
“Yeah, if only I had… one, two, three, four, five—“ He counts all the little pictures quickly. “Twenty-four friends.”
“I don’t think anyone has that many friends,” I say.
“I could put different pictures of you in here. That would be fun to look at.”
He walks out of Judy’s room, moving toward the table, but I freeze. It’s a silly thing to say, but for some reason, it hits me right in the chest. He’d want to look at twenty-four pictures of me?
“That sounds awful,” is what I manage to say, and then I meet him at the kitchen table.
The water is boiling, so I put in the pasta and stir it. Emmet sets up the game because a few of the pictures have slid out. The oven beeps, so I put the pizza in and set the timer.
“Do we want to put the pizza back in the oven after the mac and cheese is on it?” I ask.
He looks up at me from the dining table, eyes half-lidded, and after a moment, shakes his head. “That’ll take too long. Hungry.” He goes back to what he’s doing, fully focused on setting up the game.
I stir the pasta and stare at the timer on the oven. Something in me feels settled, comfortable. It’s after three in the morning. I’m drunk. I’m going to feel like shit tomorrow.
Yet all I can do is smile, all I can do is feel happy and light.
Especially when I look at Emmet, who is in my house, sitting at my kitchen table, preparing to play a children’s game—with me.
Could this work?
When the noodles are cooked, I strain them and make it according to the box. The pizza has only a few minutes left, so I let the mac and cheese sit and thicken up.
“This is all set,” Emmet says.
I go to the table to take a seat, and choose one of the cards that will tell me who my person is. Emmet already has his set up.
“I can’t believe we’re sitting here in the middle of the night playing Guess Who.”
“Stop complaining and take your turn,” he grumbles.
“Does your person have glasses?” I ask.
“No. Does your person have blond hair?”
He does, I think.
I glance at the card.
“No.”
We get a few questions in before the oven beeps. Emmet follows me into the kitchen. I pull the pizza out and put the stone on the stove top, when I turn to get the mac and cheese from the counter, where I left it, I see Emmet eating it. Right out of the pan.
“Really?”
“Told you I was hungry,” he says, taking another scoop with the serving spoon and shoveling it into his mouth. I hold my hand out.
“If you want it on the pizza, you’ll have to save some.”
“But it’s so good,” he groans.
The sound goes right to my dick. Fuck.
“Hand it over.”
He grumbles, but gives me the pan and the spoon. I scoop most of it onto the pizza and give him the rest. He eats it all. I cut the pizza into six pieces and manage to get one on each plate without making too much of a mess.
“This is going to be messy,” I warn.
“Don’t care,” he says, grabbing a plate and hurrying to the table. We eat our mac and cheese pizza and play Guess Who until the sun comes up.