Milán #3
Jordan and Theo turn around and walk away.
I stare after them.
“For suuuure.” Rory drags the words out next to me in an obnoxiously high-pitched voice that doesn’t sound anything like me.
I snap my head toward him, eyes widening.
“Now that was lame,” he says.
I try to look severe, but the kid is twitching with some kind of suppressed glee.
“Shut up,” I say.
He blinks at me and lets out a long, drawn-out, mock-dreamy sigh.
“For suuuure,” he says.
Aiden is asleep at the kitchen table when we get home.
His cheek is resting on the keyboard of his laptop, his mouth is open, and he’s snoring softly.
Rory stares at him like he’s never seen a sleeping person before.
“What’s wrong with him?” he whispers, looking at Aiden and then back at me with wide eyes.
I look at Aiden, then dubiously back at Rory.
“I’m not an expert,” I say, “but I think he might be asleep.”
Rory keeps staring at Aiden for a few seconds, then his eyes move over the table and the kitchen counters, and I see tension run through his whole body, every muscle braced all of a sudden. I’m not sure what that’s about.
His face tightens, and he grips the strap of his bag.
“Drunk or high?” he spits those words out with thinly veiled fear that makes his voice come out high and unsteady.
My eyebrows shoot up and my mouth drops open while I process. For an insane moment, I want to laugh.
Aiden? Drunk or high? That’s a good one.
“He’s been pulling twenty-hour shifts at the hospital for weeks. I found him nodding off in the shower a few days ago.”
Rory fidgets, clearly not convinced.
I tilt my head to the side. “He’ll get a crick in the neck like this.”
Rory blinks at me.
I shrug. “I’m just saying. It’s unfortunate. If only there was something we could do to prevent that.”
“Like… wake him up?” Rory offers hesitantly.
I nod as seriously as I can manage. “I don’t think we have any other options here. It’s the brotherly thing to do. Incidentally, has anybody ever taught you to whistle?”
His eyes shine, even as he presses his lips together as if to hide the excitement.
He nods.
“Gerard?” I ask.
He nods again.
“He taught me when I was twelve,” I say.
For a moment it feels like there’s an invisible string connecting us.
“So, like, we just do it?” Rory whispers, even though Aiden hasn’t shown a single sign of life other than the snoring so far. He puts his thumb and forefinger between his lips.
I shake my head and motion for him to follow my lead.
We both lean close to Aiden’s ears. I hold up three fingers and nod to Rory before I start to count down.
After the last finger goes down we both whistle.
Aiden jerks up, flails, and lets out an earsplitting scream.
Rory and I both start to laugh, and when I hold my hand up in front of him, he high-fives me.
Aiden looks around blearily.
“Goddamn dicks,” he mumbles.
“Language,” Rory and I say at the same time.
And Rory laughs. He laughs like a kid. It bursts out suddenly. Bubbles up, bright and unfiltered.
It gives me pause.
In all of the months he’s been living here, I’ve never once heard him laugh like this. Like a kid. With carefree glee.
Aiden rubs his palms over his face and looks around with a frown.
“Shit!” He taps his index finger on the keyboard a few times in quick succession. “Goddamn it.” He blows out a breath. “Fell asleep.” He states the obvious and glances at his smartwatch. “I lost twenty-six minutes. I can still catch up.”
“Or sleep some more,” I suggest.
“I have things to do,” he says.
“Sure. Who cares about all that menial stuff like hygiene and mental health, anyway.”
He glares at me for a bit before his shoulders slump.
“Point taken,” he says.
“That was easy. What’s for dinner?”
“I don’t know. What are you going to make?” he counters.
Rory and I stare at each other for a bit.
“Pizza,” we both say at the same time.
“You two take care of that. I’m gonna go take a shower in the meantime.”
I leave Aiden and Rory arguing about toppings and head to the bathroom.
Later that night I’m in my bedroom, listening to the apartment settle around me for the night, staring at the ceiling. My phone vibrates on the floor where I dropped it earlier.
I think about ignoring it, but something makes me pick it up.
Something warm moves through my insides when I see Jordan’s name on the screen.
It’s nice to feel nice for a change. It’s been a while.
What can you tell me about dogs?
I laugh out loud. Guess that’s one way to start a conversation.
They have four legs, are furry, and have a tail. And their nose prints are unique, just like fingerprints for humans.
For real? Is there also a dog nose print database? For the dogs with criminal intentions.
I laugh again.
I’m not sure. Feels like there should be, though.
Buddy—arrested twice for Grand Theft Sandwich.
I shake my head, my grin getting wider and wider.
Rex—booked for socknapping.
Spot—taken in for unlicensed gardening.
Duke—cuffed for breaking and entering (the trash can).
People should really know what they’re in for.
Why the inquiry about dogs?
I happen to have a kid who’s been begging me for a dog for years.
There’s a short pause while I watch the dots move on my phone screen.
It’s Theo’s birthday soon.
And you’re finally ready to take that big step in your relationship? Getting a dog together?
I get an incoming video call a second later. I’m smiling like a lunatic when I pick it up. Jordan looks at me with pursed lips.
“I honestly don’t know what it says about me that I’m putting way more thought into getting a dog than I ever did into having a kid,” he says.
“Mainly that you’ll be a responsible pet owner?”
He chuckles. “Crossing my fingers. Have you ever had a pet?”
“Sure. You haven’t?”
He shakes his head. “My mom was allergic.”
“Ah. Well, I had two dogs while I was growing up, and my mother adopted another one shortly after I moved out.”
“To replace you?” he asks with a grin.
“Hey! She swears the name was just a coincidence.”
Jordan laughs and wiggles, settling in better. I think he’s in his bed. Warmth creeps up my neck and into my cheeks like I’m fucking fourteen again and just the hint of a bare chest has the ability to make my skin feel electric.
“An expert,” Jordan says. “Help me, I beg of you.”
I laugh. “Consider me at your service.”
He nods. “Perfect. Mark dog shopping in your calendar.”
“When’s the birthday?” I ask.
“In November, so there’s a bit of time. I have this friend who has a friend who works at a shelter, and they just had a litter of puppies that should be ready for adoption around Theo’s birthday.
I figured you could maybe come with me and make it seem like at least one of us knows what they’re talking about. ”
“Puppies? You know, you don’t have to twist my arm so hard. I already said I’d do it.”
He laughs again, but that laugh turns into a yawn.
“Tired?” I ask.
“Beat.”
“Go to bed.”
“Already there.”
That makes another wave of warmth pool in the pit of my stomach. I ignore it.
“Night,” he says.
“I… I’ll see you,” I say, stumbling slightly over my words because he accidentally lowers his phone just enough that I get a better view.
Damn.
His chest is a sight.
Jordan sends me one last grin, then cuts the call.
I drop to my back on the bed, spread my arms, and try to calm my breathing.
“Friends,” I tell the ceiling. “He’s your fucking friend. Don’t fuck it up.”
An image of Jordan’s wide golden chest flashes through my head.
My dick jerks.
So that’s a good omen.