Chapter Six
Istartle awake again, but this time it’s to some weird clucking sound coming from out on the balcony outside my bedroom window.
I didn’t think that I’d be able to fall asleep after the events that took place last night, but I guess I must have once the adrenaline wore off.
I yawn, sitting up on the edge of my bed, and that’s when I hear it again… the clucking.
“What the fuck is that noise?” I mutter to myself, groaning at the muscle ache that only comes from putting them to use again after some sleep. An ache I’m used to when all day, every day, they’re locked up and tense from being on high-alert.
Quickly, I throw on some sweats, since I regrettably now have a roommate, and peel back the curtain, searching for the source of the bizarre sound.
“Come here, you! Don’t be shy now!” Gannett calls out in a semi-whisper before chuckling.
Then, I realize that clucking sound is coming from him, because he’s doing it again…
attempting to feed a fuckin’ seagull from the palm of his outstretched hand.
“C’mere boy! You know you want it! Who doesn’t love a good muffin? ”
The juvenile sea squirrel bobs and darts, obviously hesitant to get too close. I shake my head and lift my window, letting in a blast of arctic air. “The fuck are you doing, dude?” I grumble at him. “And… why aren’t you at work?”
“Storm’s supposed to come in later. Told the guys we better not chance it.
Gave ‘em the day off to chill with their families before Christmas. Even if I can’t, doesn't mean they shouldn’t.
” He shrugs. “And as for me and Gulligan? I like him. Look he’s got this little bullseye thing around his left eye.
He’s cute as friggin’ shit. I’m teaching him how to muff dive.
” He makes a few kissy noises. “C’mon, buddy, you can do it. ”
“Gulligan?”
He chortles. “Yeah, like Gilligan. It was between that and Skuttle. You know, like the dingbat seagull on The Little Mermaid? The dinglehopper dude?”
I don’t even have a response for that. I have no fuckin’ clue what he’s prattling about right now.
“Oh, come on. Give me a break! I have two girls whose personalities are Disney Princesses coded. We’ll watch it sometime, because I need your opinion on if I am Prince Eric’s identical twin or not.
Evan says no way in hell, but I’m prone to think he’s wrong an awful lot.
Like how he—ya know…” he trails off, looking lost in thought.
“Huh, you know what? I can’t really think of an example right now, but it’ll come to me.
Probably when I’m sitting on the john. That’s where some of my best thinkin’ is done. ”
I take a step back and pinch the bridge of my nose, sighing with frustration. I wonder if all two of Gannett’s brain cells ever get lonely up there in that big, hollow head of his.
“Has your landlord gotten a hold of you yet to give you an estimation of how long it’ll be before you can go back?
” I ask. The question, in no way, has any relevance to my rapidly deteriorating Gannett tolerance fuse—because, yeah, I was hoping that between his schedule and mine, we’d meet like ships in the night.
Now that he’s giving up drinking, there’s really no need for him to go downstairs to the pub…
unless he really is that lonely. Which, by the rambling, he might just be.
“Yep. Met up with him when I ran out for breakfast. Remediation crew was already there. Said it might take about three to four weeks. They found some pre-existing mold when they peeled back the drywall.”
Fuck! I expected a few days to a week tops because the business is tied up in that building. Not a fuckin’ month!
He cocks an eyebrow up at me. “It gonna be okay if I stay here still?”
“Yep, it’s fine,” I reply, the lie slipping out all too quickly.
It’s far from fine, actually, but I made myself a promise that I would do what I could for Wee-Waters, and I’m going to stick with it.
Besides, if Evan ever caught wind of me rendering his little brother homeless in the dead of winter, I’m sure he’d drive here from across the state to personally kick my ass.
With both Waters boys being all brawn—and only one brain, apparently—the end result would not be pretty.
I’m stacked, but not at a two-against-one level of being ripped.
Outside of bartending, the only real hobby I have is working out.
Get jacked enough and people just naturally stay away from you—unless they have a fist-in-the-face fetish.
I guess it’s worked well, since on the rare occasion I venture anywhere other than the gym, people at the grocery store tend to give me extra-wide berths and furtive glances.
“Got you breakfast too,” Gannett says, tilting his head in the direction of the kitchen. “Didn’t know if you were a muffin lover or not, so I got a little bit of everything,” he adds with a smirk.
I roll my eyes. “I can’t tell if you’re even aware of the innuendos you’re making or not.”
“Oh, I’m aware.” He snickers just as the skittish bird gets the cajones to pluck the last of its treat from Gannett’s hand. He dusts off the crumbs and stands up, approaching the window. “I just have a mind that owns premium real estate in the gutter.”
“Perfect. Living with you will be just like having a sixteen-year-old kid in the house again.”
He grins wickedly. “You gonna make me call you Daddy?”
I wince, flinching as if I’d just been cut by an invisible dagger.
“Oh shit!” he gasps. “Sorry, sorry! We discussed this, no bringing up your old man. Though, that’s not—you gotta know that’s not what I meant.”
I puff out a breath through my nose as my molars gnash together. “Marlin is not my old man. He isn’t anything.”
“Fuck, I know, I know. I’m a dumbass. I take full ownership of that. I won’t do it again.” He mimes zipping his lips. Then, out of the corner of his mouth, he peeps, “See? All done.”
I snort. He admittedly does make it hard to stay irritated at his goofy ass.
“Uhh, so I got you coffee too, but, again, no clue how you take it. Since there’s only so much I could carry back, I went with black.” With a grin, he adds, “Fairly certain you like your coffee as bitter as your soul.”
Oh, Wee-Waters, if you only knew just how dark it is. As for my coffee, however? “I usually do a splash of oat milk and eight sugars.”
Gannett’s eyes go wide. “Eight? Ho-ly fuckin’ diabeetus!”
I chuckle. “Sugar is my only weakness. Shut the fuck up.”
“So, what do you wanna do today?” he asks, his stupidly blue eyes blinking at me like an expectant puppy waiting for a crumb to fall.
Shit, he really is that lonely.
“I do just about the same thing every day. Head to the gym and get a workout in. Come home, shower, and change before running errands. If there’s any time left, I watch some baseball recaps before I head downstairs and work the closing shift.
Wash, rinse, and repeat. All very riveting stuff, really. ”
He snorts. “Clearly. Don’t you have any hobbies or anything? No fishing, no hiking, no… I don’t know?”
I cock an eyebrow at him. “Do you? I mean, I know you fish, but that’s your line of work. But other than that, I’m pretty sure you haunt Portside like it’s your second job.”
His expression falls. “You know? You pretty much hit the nail on the head. I suppose if I’m going to stay dry, I need to start picking up some new hobbies.”
“Have you given any thought to attending AA meetings?” I ask. Maybe with that support, he could find motivation there as well.
“Yeah, I have. But you know Ternbay. Nothing ever remains anonymous here,” he mumbles, his cheeks flushing.
“I, um, I’m already embarrassed enough about living up to all the assumptions made about me being a fuck up.
For once, I’d just like to feel like I’d had the smarts to haul myself up by my own boot straps.
It’s, uh, probably dumb, and maybe a little prideful, but I kind of want this win for myself, if I can manage it, you know? ”
I nod. Not because I particularly agree with that.
It could be good for him to accept help from others.
But I also know he’s a Waters. Wagner, Evan, and even Gannett are all hardheaded enough to think they need to do everything on their own.
Besides, it’d be pretty hypocritical of me to keep pressing Gannett to not fly solo when all I want is to be left the fuck alone.
“Anyway, the gym sounds like a good enough place to start making some healthier changes. Mind if we stop somewhere before the gym so I can pick up some new clothes? Not that I mind borrowing yours, because this Forge hoodie is comfy as fuck, but… people may start asking questions,” he notes, pausing to take a sniff of my shirt he apparently helped himself to.
When he nuzzles it a bit more, giving it a bigger whiff, his eyes roll back, and he hums contentedly. A sudden surge of blood runs straight to my groin at the sight of it. No. Nope. I’m not even going to fuckin’ entertain what other things could elicit that response from him.
Refocus.
Of course he’s tagging along with me to the gym.
Shit, he’ll probably yak my ear off, pressing me for more tidbits of my past, the entire time there, too.
“Sure,” I concede, oddly concerned that if I tell him that I prefer to work out alone, he’ll break down right here and his lower lip will start to wobble.
“Fantastic. Fair warning, I am no gym-bro. Not a single clue about how to use any of that equipment, so you’ll have to show me the ropes.
Don’t take it easy on me either, coach.” He pinches his belly.
“Got a beer belly I need to start working off. I’ve noticed it’s been getting harder and harder to keep an eye on old Blackbeard without looking in a mirror. ”
Wonderful. Can’t wait.