Chapter 6
Bryce
The morning Casey Joe was scheduled to move in, I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off. Part of me thought I’d gone and lost my damn mind inviting Casey Joe to stay at my place, but I was also looking forward to it.
Why?
Well, that was a can of worms in and of itself.
A whole damn can of worms.
On one hand, I thought I’d probably like having someone else in the apartment.
When I’d been doing the physical training stuff in L.A.
for all those years, the job kept me around people.
True, none of them were my friends, and I definitely knew what it was like to be surrounded by people while feeling lonely as hell, but at least I was socializing.
Being in Haven Grove meant a whole lot less people, and I found I wasn’t the greatest at just making conversation with strangers. Unless you counted the easy way I spent a couple hours chatting with Casey Joe.
On the other hand, asking him to move in made the most sense.
It was logical to have him close to the gym if he was going to be helping with the renovation.
If he’d had his own house to live in, I wouldn’t have offered up the room.
But he did actually need a place to stay for a while, so the roommate situation was best all around.
Yeah, he technically had a place to stay, but no one should have to listen to their best friend and son going at it every night.
And, if I was being completely honest, he was hot.
So fucking hot.
I was drawn to Casey like no one else I’d ever known. Did I think I had a chance? Most likely, no. I mean, I wasn’t one hundred percent sure he was completely straight—some of the looks he’d given me made me question things a bit—but nothing said I couldn’t just enjoy looking.
Plus, for whatever reason, I liked talking to him.
It was kinda fun having no idea what might come out of his mouth.
I’d had my fill of fake people for the first half of my life.
Casey Joe was refreshing because he was as real as they came.
He said what he was thinking. He didn’t try to fake who he was. Didn’t try to hide the real him.
I’d lost myself to all the glamour and glitz for so long—not really being a part of it but hiding who I truly was behind it—it did my heart good to be around someone who was as down-to-earth as Casey Joe.
So, I made note to buy a new set of sheets as a spare and set to work putting my extras on the bed in the second bedroom.
I straightened up the apartment, ran the vacuum, washed the tiny bit of dishes I’d left in the sink, and started a load of towels all before ten in the morning on the day Casey Joe had said he’d bring his stuff over.
My plan was to show him his room, let him unpack if he wanted to, and then give him a tour of the gym. If everything went as I hoped it would, we’d have a list of projects and a timeline by the time we went to bed.
Thinking about Casey Joe and bed was a bad thing.
A very bad thing.
Thinking of him using the same shower as me, wondering if he slept naked, and imagining what it might be like if he maybe—just maybe—was interested in men was all going to likely be my demise.
Shit.
I hadn’t had a crush on any guy in a very long time.
I’d had my pick of pretty much anyone I wanted out on the west coast, and I couldn’t ever make that connection.
Then I moved back home, met a foul-mouthed grump of a man, and somehow found myself enamored like a damn cartoon character with hearts in my eyes.
And then I asked him to move into my apartment, work with me day in and day out, and let myself get all kinds of delicious thoughts about him.
Yeah, that sounded like a great plan.
Nothing could go wrong.
Nothing at all.
My phone buzzed, and I smiled when I saw it was Casey Joe. He’d suggested we exchange numbers the other day before I left his place. “Just in case you get home and realize you’ve been talkin’ shit this whole time and really don’t want me to move in with you,” he’d said.
CJ Riggs: Still got that spare bed?
Me: Yep. Even put clean sheets on it for you.
CJ Riggs: I’m downstairs.
Me: Come on up.
I knew he’d easily see the apartment entrance next to the main gym door. When I heard the heavy door slam shut behind him and his boots on the steps, I unbolted the door and opened it to wait for his head to appear at the top of the stairs.
And there he was.
Blond hair dark enough to be called light brown kept short enough it likely wouldn’t get messed up in the wind, blue eyes taking in the narrow, dark hall, and a pinched expression on his face.
“Welcome home,” I teased, gesturing him down the hall and into the apartment.
“Why’s that hallway feel like I’m walking to my last meal on death row?”
I barked out a laugh, and some of the tension eased from my body.
“Seriously, get some damn lights or something.” Casey Joe stood in the middle of the apartment and looked around.
It was nothing like the place I’d had out in L.A., but it was about the same size. And I owned it with the gym, so rent-free was hard to argue with.
“Let me show you around.” I gestured toward the left and started through the dining room.
Casey Joe followed me.
I passed through the kitchen. “The bedrooms are back here.” I pointed to my door. “This one is me. Sorry, we share a bathroom.”
Casey Joe grunted. “I have two boys, and we had one bathroom. I’ll survive.”
“This one is you.” I pushed open the door to his room. “They’re pretty much exactly the same. Worst part about them is they’re directly above the gym. I can’t say whether the noise is bad or not, but if I had to guess, I’d say we’ll both be glad the gym isn’t open twenty-four-seven.”
“I sleep heavy, but I get up pretty early, so I don’t think it will be much of a problem. Plus, we’ll be the only ones making noise for a while until it’s up and running.”
For some reason, my damn brain decided to turn his words into some sort of little fantasy about us making noise—and I wasn’t imagining the type of clatter a renovation project would make.
Clearing my throat, I pushed aside the thought and gestured toward the bed.
“Pretty sure the beds are exactly the same. The one in my room is pretty comfortable. Maybe not the height of luxury, but you won’t wake up with a crick in your neck. ”
“I’ve woken up to pee and puke from the boys more times than I can count.
If there’s not wet spots, I’m good.” The way his own words took their sweet time sinking in and turning Casey’s face the cutest shade of red had me biting my lip to keep from laughing.
He pointed a finger at me. “Shut it. That wasn’t what I meant, and you know it. ”
“No worries,” I said, trying to keep a straight face. “I won’t make you sleep in the wet spot.”
Casey flipped me off, threw his bag on the bed, and crossed his arms over his chest. “This how it’s going to be the whole time? Juvenile innuendo?”
Shit.
“I’m sorry. I was just playing around. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
Way to go, Bryce. Just because the guy is fun to mess around with, don’t go making things weird.
Casey laughed. “Have you met Lance and Hudson? They’re the queens of innuendo. I’m not offended, I was just givin’ you shit because I opened my damn big mouth and stepped right in it.” He gestured toward the door. “Show me the rest of the place so we can get started.”
I sighed inwardly and gave a nod. “The bathroom is across the hall. Towels are in the linen closet out here, everything else is in the cabinets and drawers in the bathroom. Feel free to use whatever you want or get your own stuff if you don’t like what I have.”
Casey Joe grunted. “As long as you don’t use some pineapple cherry vanilla shit or somethin’, I’m good.”
Laughing, I shook my head. “No, I mostly use cedar and citrus scents.”
“Perfect. Juicy Peach has good soaps and shampoos I like, so I can pick up some next time I go. Not gonna be moochin’ off you.”
We made our way to the kitchen. “You’re not mooching. You’re working off rent for the room by helping me, and I’m paying you a very small sum because it wouldn’t be right to let you renovate this place with me for free. And when your house is ready, and you move out, I’ll up your pay.”
Casey hummed absently. “You plannin’ on living in this apartment forever?
” He glanced around the kitchen. “If you got yourself a house, you could probably rent this place out for two to four people depending on their set up and needs.” He nodded toward the kitchen window.
“That’s what Lance is doing with the apartment above the DP.
He was livin’ there, but when he moved in with Hudson, he started rentin’ the place out.
That’s why I was stayin’ with them since his apartment already had a tenant. ”
“The DP?” I did my best not to let laughter cling to my words.
Casey huffed. “Dairy Palace. Full name is the Sweet and Creamy Dairy Palace, but it’s usually shortened to DP.” He eyed me suspiciously. “Why?”
I shook my head, dying to giggle like a teenager. Surely Casey knew why DP was funny. He had to. Right?
He finally shook his head, and a tiny grin played on his lips. “Go ahead. You can laugh. I’m impressed you kept it in this long.”
Laughter burst from me. “Oh my god, for a second I thought you didn’t know why it was funny, and I was going to die if I had to explain it to you.”
Casey rolled his eyes. “I’m fifty-four years old.
I have two grown children. We can assume I know enough about sex to grasp most innuendo and play on words.
” He chuckled. “If you haven’t already, you should definitely check out the merchandise at the Roadhouse.
Lots of funny shit on t-shirts, hoodies, stickers, magnets, mugs, even underwear.
They used peaches and cream along with DP to make a bunch of dumb shit, but people love it.
Anytime they get somethin’ new on the shelves it sells out almost immediately. ”