Chapter 14
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Connor rolled over in bed with a groan, almost surprised to find Nate still in bed with him, slowly waking up.
“Seriously, Connor,” Nate groaned as he sat up. “News first thing in the morning?”
“Google, off.” Connor sat up next to Nate, rubbing at his jaw.
Normally, he’d be hopping straight into the shower after waking up, pulling on slacks and a shirt, finding a blazer out of his closet that matched before slipping on his loafers and heading to work right about now.
But Connor found himself hesitating, taking in the sight of Nate beside him. Nate in his bed. Shirtless beneath the sheets, spray of dark hair growing at his chest, down his cheeks, jaw, his neck. Those coily curls, tangled and messy.
For a moment, as Connor looked at him, he wasn’t a 29 year old man in his own apartment. He was 18 again, stomach swooping at the undeniable sight of the man beside him.
And Nate didn’t miss the way Connor looked at him, eyebrows twitching upwards.
Wasn’t that a tempting sight?
He hesitated only a fraction of a second before angling his head down, pressing a quick kiss to Nate’s lips.
“Think you’d approve a work from home day?” Connor teased. Nate’s lips twitched up at that.
“I mean–now that’s an idea. Two of us in bed, jumping on Zoom calls.”
Nate seemed to let the words linger in the air, and for a moment, Connor let himself imagine it.
And they looked at each other and laughed, until Nate’s smile faded.
“I mean–it wouldn’t be a bad idea but–I’d still need to stop by my place for a few minutes.” Nate ran a hand through his hair, only making his curls messier. “I’ve gotta… brush my teeth.”
“I’ve got an extra toothbrush here,” Connor pointed out. “Still in the package.”
Nate only worried at his bottom lip.
“Okay. I lied. It’s… I’ve gotta take my Adderall. First thing in the morning. Otherwise–otherwise I won’t get anything done.”
Connor wasn’t sure what expression he wore, trying to keep up.
“Your Adderall,” he repeated, a discomfited prickle at the back of his spine.
He only knew Adderall in the context of Tan Atkins, who often offered the little pills as an alternative when he didn't have any dimebags available.
Maybe his face revealed what Connor feared–that he’d gone and made his bed with another man with a penchant for stimulants to get him through the day–because Nate didn’t stop talking.
“It’s not like–I’m not–I have ADHD.”
Nate dropped his gaze to the sheets, clearly embarrassed.
“You know, it’s why I–why I’m the way I am.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Connor said instinctively–even though he had a feeling he did.
Still, Nate found a wry smile.
“That's how I know you like me. It’s why I write everything you say down, because I don't trust myself to remember what you say. Or why I’m so… so easily distracted.”
“I’ve seen the opposite. You focusing, for hours and hours,” Connor pointed out. But Nate didn't contradict him.
“Yeah, that’s the other part of it. Focusing for so long I… I forget other things. Important things. Like eating or… or taking care of myself. If it wasn't for Mano–” Nate's expression seemed pained for a moment, “Well, he keeps me on schedule. And I need that. A schedule, or I'll just… fall off.”
Connor wondered what he meant by that. Nate spoke as though it was a serious, chronic illness.
Everything he knew about ADHD–well, it wasn’t much.
Kids who couldn’t sit still, kids who didn’t do well in school.
The kind of kids his mom would sometimes tell him about when he asked how this new batch of kindergarten students were doing.
“When did you get diagnosed, as a kid?” He asked, leaning back against the headboard.
“No, uh. College. Freshman year. I almost flunked out. Academic probation, all that. Went to the campus clinic because I didn’t know what was going on with me.
I was–” Nate cut himself off and shook his head.
“I just had a hard time with the transition. And about two months later I had an ADHD diagnosis, a prescription for Adderall, and a second attempt at my second semester.”
Connor didn't say what he was thinking, that it sounded like there was more going on than just the typical college transition. That this had to have been something that hung over Nate's head his entire life. And maybe it always was there, unnamed.
He couldn't imagine what that was like.
“So it’s serious, then.”
“Yeah. Pretty serious.” Nate glanced away, rubbing his fingers over his stubble with a soft scraping sound.
“I feel like I’m locked in this, you know, eternal battle with myself.
Like there’s this–this goblin that hangs out on my shoulder, and all he wants to do is hide, or–or read, or watch TV all day.
And if I’m not two steps ahead of him, he’ll ruin my life.
And when I was a kid–I mean, he ran the show, but it wasn’t–I could still get by.
And once I got to college–I just don’t want him to win again. ”
For a moment, Connor found himself embarrassed that he’d assumed anything other than it being a legitimate condition, Nate having a valid prescription. And guilt tasted bitter as it settled in the back of his throat.
“What do you say we meet at work? Say, an hour? Hour and a half?” Connor offered. “I’ll push back that first meeting if you need the extra time.”
Relief had never looked better on someone as it did Nate, and he kissed Connor’s cheek.
“Text me your Starbucks order. I’ll pick up breakfast on my way to the office.”
And Nate threw on his clothes before slipping out of Connor’s apartment, not like a secret in the early morning hours, but like an episode that was sure to repeat.
At least, Connor could only hope it would.
Once he arrived at work, the morning passed as it usually did. He took inventory of Nate’s scheduled meetings for the day, set up necessary agendas, followed up on agreed deliverables from his most recent investor meetings the day before, all before he even sat down.
Junie paid him a visit a little before 7 AM, wearing a new shade of lipstick, brighter than normal for her. She came bearing gifts of coffee cake–and an invite out for that night.
“Tin Lizzie Saloon tonight?”
“Hm?”
“I wanna get drunk tonight. I’m thinking gay bar. Let me try shooting my shot.” She gave Connor a coy smile, showing off the delicately applied liner at the edge of her lips. “Wanna come be my wingman? Maybe we’ll get a group together.”
“Who were you thinking?”
“You, me, Liam, Ryan, maybe Benji.” And Junie winked, all the while Connor did his best not to groan. “He really is a nice guy.”
“I'm sure he is,” Connor said non-committally.
“So are you really going to make me go with just them?” Junie cocked her head to the side and pouted. “If you don’t come, then I’m not gonna tell you about what’s going on with Liam and Ryan.”
“What’s going on with them?” Connor asked, amused.
“Come to Tin Lizzie with us tonight and you can find out.” And she winked, flipping her hair over her shoulder.
Well, there really was no arguing with her. But that was Connor’s friendship with Junie, and he’d always been better off for it.
“Yeah. Okay. What the hell, Junie. You’re getting me out.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really. What time?”
“Uh, 7? We’ll split an Uber out to Costa Mesa, so meet at my place.” Junie grinned and did a little jig before smoothing her pencil skirt. “Don’t you dare blow me off, okay?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Connor said with a roll of his eyes. And Junie turned to leave, but just as she reached to pull open the door, someone else opened it.
Nate poked his head inside, clearly surprised to see Junie talking to Connor–but not nearly as surprised as Junie was to see him.
She let out a little squeak and clamped her hand over her mouth, the color draining from her pink cheeks.
“Mr. Santos! I was just leaving.”
Any other time, any other executive, this wouldn’t have ended well for her or Connor. Maybe any other time, Connor would have let her slip out past Nate while explaining she was a friend after she was gone.
But the last twenty hours had changed too much for him.
“Nate, you like coffee cake?” Connor cut in, smiling
“Huh?” Nate looked back at him, wide-eyed.
Connor gave Junie a look, raising an eyebrow at her while she mirrored Nate’s deer-in-headlights expression.
“Junie came by with coffee cake. You want to try some?” And then to Junie, he asked, “You don’t mind, do you?”
“No! I mean, I’d love it if you–if–”
Junie flushed pink as she whipped out her little tupperware bowl, offering it out for Nate to take a piece.
Nate, who looked from her to Connor, still wearing that bemused expression.
“Oh–I–sure. Yeah, I–I love coffee cake. Uh, thank you.”
He accepted what he was offered, with Junie taking her leave just before he could say anything else, the door closing behind her.
Connor knew he’d have to text her later, just to let her know she wasn’t in trouble–neither was he, for that matter.
But Nate was the outlier in that Connor could trust neither of them would be disciplined for having been caught together. Other executives were far stricter when it came to the possibility of their assistants using work time to fraternize–or worse gossip about their principals.
“I don’t want to see you with that girl again. Do I make myself clear?”
That was what Devore had once said, after he caught Connor coming back from lunch with Junie.
Instead, Nate simply said, “Uh, she seems nice.”
“Yeah.” Connor offered Nate a smile before turning back to his computer. “Try the cake. It’s good.”
The printer whirred to life as he sent over a few documents for Nate to review that morning, sheets of paper coming to land in the tray near the bottom. Connor pushed his chair back as he crossed the office to the printer, pulling out the papers and sorting them together.
“You were able to get what you needed at home, right?” He asked, glancing back at Nate who was currently mid-bite.