Chapter 4
OZZIE
After that, I decided to make him hear me by showing up and giving him the positive attention he was so desperate for.
On Sunday, I brought over a cup of coffee because I was making some anyway.
We hung out for a little while, and I gave him a hug on my way out.
That seemed to be the opening we’d both been waiting for.
Over the next week, we met up in the morning for coffee or donuts before work.
And every night, one of us would grab takeout, and we’d eat it while watching a movie.
By Thursday, Cedric was texting memes and making plans like we were old friends. Pizza tonight? My treat since you've fed me all week.
I’d loved every minute of taking care of him, but I respected his need to reciprocate that sometimes. I’ll be there at seven.
The bruising on his face had started to fade to a yellow-green hue, and the cut under his eye was healing without any sign of infection.
Not that the imperfections did anything to hide his strong jaw and hungry eyes.
Every time I looked into them, they showed me just how badly he wanted to be loved.
And that only fueled my desire to be the one to do it.
He also moved more easily with each passing day.
There was a slight wince when he got up too fast or laughed too hard, but he was getting back to his old self.
At least physically. Emotionally, I wasn’t sure.
There was still a tension that filled him whenever his phone rang or there were heavy footsteps coming down the hall.
And he might not ever break the habit of sitting with his back to a wall, but I was actually happy to see he was taking his personal safety more seriously.
Honestly, Cedric kept surprising me.
Underneath the past hurt and self-deprecating jokes, he was genuinely funny.
His dry sense of humor snuck up on me when I least expected it.
The other night, he made me laugh so hard about his coworker's lunch habits that I nearly choked on my popcorn.
But the best part was that he looked so pleased with himself for making me happy.
Like it was a new trick he was proud of.
But there were a lot of moments I was noticing in a different way.
Like the quick glances when his eyes dropped to my mouth or my hands for a few seconds too long before he caught himself and looked away. I noticed because I was doing the same thing, except I'd had more practice at not getting caught.
I went home after dinner and took a longer shower than I needed.
I tried to convince myself that it was just tension from the long week, but that was only part of the truth.
The full truth was I spent most of my time with Cedric on the verge of a boner, and in the shower was the only time I really allowed myself to indulge in the fantasies that I hoped to eventually make into reality.
That was when I thought about the way his dark eyes lit up whenever he laughed and the desire in his eyes when he looked at me across the table. He was warming up to me, and I was fucking hot for him.
I wrapped my hand around my cock and let my head fall back against the tile as I began to stroke. Every pull brought a spike of pleasure, and every push back down was a precursor of what it could feel like if I were ever invited inside Cedric.
If he ever decided that I wasn’t just a reliable neighbor but someone worth trusting with his heart and his body.
Finding my climax didn't take long. It never did when I was thinking about Cedric. I came with my forehead against the cool tile and his name on my lips, shooting creamy loads into the stream. I watched it swirl down the drain as I caught my breath and hoped I wouldn’t need to pump again before dinner.
I’d been producing more milk than usual and had a suspicion Cedric was the reason for that too.
But I didn’t dwell on that. I just rinsed off and got out.
Cedric was waiting for me with pizza, and I was anxious to see him.
Shortly after that, we were on his couch with the box open on the coffee table and an old football-hero movie playing on his flat screen.
Just when the skinny kid in the movie was about to get his moment in the spotlight, Cedric’s phone buzzed against the cushion between us. He glanced at it and went still.
I couldn’t help looking at the screen and seeing the caller’s name. Mitch. "You don't have to answer that."
"I know." He stared at the phone for a moment and then sighed. “But he’ll keep calling if I don’t.” Before I could try to reason with him, he picked it up. "What?"
I could hear the voice on the other end even without the call on speaker, tinny and urgent. “Cedric, baby, I'm so sorry. I've been losing my mind all week. Can I come over? We just need to talk so the police stop hounding me.”
Cedric's jaw worked. "No, Mitch. I’m not pressing charges as long as you stay away from me."
“Five minutes, Cedric. I won’t even come in. I just need to see that you're okay.”
"You broke in and beat the shit out of me. We're done talking." His voice was steadier than I expected, but his hand was shaking slightly where it held the phone.
“Don’t be like that. You know you pushed me over the edge. But we can get past that. I’ll show you—”
Cedric ended the call and dropped his phone on the couch as if it were on fire. “He better not fucking come here.”
"I think we should call the police." I placed my hand over his to stop it from shaking. "Tell them he's threatening to come over. You have a restraining order, right?"
"No, not technically." He dropped his chin to his sternum and sighed. "I just want this to be over, Ozzie. I don't want to answer a million questions again. Why can’t he just move on?"
"Isn’t he married? What does his wife think of the police poking around?" Nothing about this situation made sense to me. I didn’t think Cedric was lying, but I didn’t think he had all the information.
Cedric chuckled. “She lives outta state. He told me he stays here during the week for work and then goes home on the weekends. She probably has no idea what he’s been up to here.”
“We can probably get her contact info and tell her?” I wasn’t generally big on destroying marriages, but I was willing to fight dirty when it came to Cedric’s well-being. “I know a private investigator who can help.”
"Thanks, but I just wanna eat pizza and not think about him." His eyes were pleading for me to drop the topic even though every instinct I had was telling me this wasn't over. “Please.”
"Fine." I picked up a slice of pizza and took a bite to distract myself. "But I'm staying here tonight. I’ll take the couch, but I don’t want you to be alone."
His eyes were sparkling as he nodded. "Yeah. Okay."
We were only halfway through a video game live-action movie when there was a knock at the door. And it wasn’t from the buzzer downstairs. It was the apartment door...just a few feet away from us.
Cedric froze.
"Stay here." I was on my feet with my phone in my hand before he could exhale.
"Ozzie—"
"I got this.” I went to the door and looked through the peephole. It was definitely Mitch. I recognized him from the few times I saw him coming in or out.
He was big through the shoulders like he supplemented his workouts with something…and his eyes were too wide, like he was wired. “Cedric, open up. My key isn’t working.” That was a relief.
Without thinking about how it could escalate, I opened the door a few inches but kept my body in the frame to block his view of Cedric. “You need to leave, Mitch.”
"Who the fuck are you?" Mitch's eyes went past me, trying to see inside the apartment.
Cedric appeared beside me, peeking his head under my arm. “I told you not to come here, Mitch. I will call the cops if you come back.”
His mildly attractive face shifted into something mean and ugly. "You’re a fucking little slut, Cedric. You said you didn’t do relationships or boyfriends, but here you are. Already fucking around on me. You’re sick!"
"Watch it, buddy." My voice was low and hard as I tried to resist the urge to rearrange his face the way he did to Cedric. “Just get the fuck outta here before things get ugly.” Starting with his nose.
"This isn't your business, man." Mitch took a step closer and pushed on the door to open it. "Cedric. Cedric, look at me."
"He doesn't wanna look at you." I shifted my weight so I filled in the opening and shielded Cedric from his view. "You’ve got about three seconds to walk away before I call the police."
"Don’t tell me what I need to do." His hand went to his waistband, and everything moved in slow motion after that. "Cedric is mine. He doesn't get to just—"
The gun came up fast and was aiming right at my head. Before I could think about it, I threw my arm up and knocked his wrist away. He was more focused on Cedric than me, so he didn’t block me when I threw my shoulder into his chest and shoved him sideways.
A shot went into the wall beside the doorframe, creating a deafening explosion that left my ears ringing.
I landed on top of Mitch and slammed his head into the ground, knocking him out long enough to flip him onto his stomach so I could pin his hands behind his back.
My knees were planted on his forearms so my weight kept him in place.
The gun was a few feet out of reach, and there was no way he was getting anywhere near it.
Cedric was yelling, and neighbors started to come out of their apartments. “Ozzie!”
“Cedric, are you hurt?” I couldn’t see him from where I was sitting on Mitch. “Talk to me.”
“I’m fine.” He came to where I was and hovered beside me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I put my fingers to Mitch’s neck to make sure he was still alive, and he twitched but didn’t wake up. “But we’re pressing charges this time.”
The police arrived right as Mitch was starting to wake up.
This time, they took him away. Assault with a deadly weapon was serious, and when they told Cedric that Mitch was wanted in Missouri as a person of interest in a homicide, my blood ran cold.
It could have been so much worse for both of us, but when they dragged his ass away, Cedric rushed into my arms.
“Is it over, Ozzie?” He buried his face in my neck as warm tears coated my skin. “Really over?”
"It is. He's gone." I kept my voice low, hyperaware of how tightly he was holding me. The neighbors had filed in, and we gave a brief statement but didn’t have to go down to the station this time. They were extraditing Mitch for bigger charges, but I was sure we’d have to testify at some point.
But that was tomorrow’s problem.
Today, I just wanted to hold Cedric a little bit longer. “Let’s get you inside.”
"You could've been shot." His voice was shaky as he let me walk him backward into the apartment. "He could've—"
"He missed." I put my hand over his where it was still gripping my shirt. "I'm right here."
There was a hole in the wall by the door that stood as a stark reminder of what happened. But it was also proof of what didn’t happen. Cedric stood in the middle of his living room and stared at it like he didn't know what to do with himself.
“You okay?” I put my hand on the back of his neck and held it.
"Will you stay?" He quickly turned to me. "Please. I don't—I can't be alone tonight. Not after that."
I didn't even have to think about it. "Of course."
I glanced at my watch and considered what I needed overnight. It was getting late, and I hadn't pumped before heading over. After the adrenaline of the last hour, I could already feel the familiar tightness building. "I just need to grab a few things from my place. I'll be right back."
"Oh, um, okay." He bit the side of his lip, obviously uncomfortable being alone.
“I’ll be quick. I promise.” Without thinking, I kissed his cheek and then ran down the hall to my apartment.
I grabbed a change of clothes and the pump bag, and thought about how I was going to handle that.
I could go to the bathroom for twenty minutes and let him think I was having gastrointestinal issues. Or I could say nothing at all.
Or I could tell him the truth.
He told me about Mitch and his history with guys who treated him like shit. And after being vulnerable with me, maybe it was time for me to be vulnerable and honest with him too.
I let myself into his apartment with the spare key he insisted I keep, and Cedric was on the couch with his knees pulled up, staring at the door. “You’re back.”
“Of course I am.” I put the bag on the coffee table and sat down beside him. “You okay?”
He nodded but didn’t take his eyes off the bag. "What's that?"
There wasn't really a way to ease into this, so I didn't try. "It's a chest pump. For my milk."
He turned his head slightly and furrowed his brow. "Your milk?"
"Yeah. I, um, lactate. It started in college." I kept my voice even, like I'd practiced explaining it to myself in the mirror. "I have to pump every day or I’ll leak through my shirt, and it's been a little more active lately."
Cedric looked down at my chest for a minute while he processed that information. He didn't recoil in disgust or confusion. If anything, he leaned in slightly and looked over at the bag. "Why's it been more active?" He tilted his head to look me in the eye. "Is that a stress response?"
"It can be." I felt my face heat as I considered how to proceed with the confession that could change everything. "I don't think that's it right now, though."
He seemed to stop breathing right around the same time I did. "Then what is it?"
I forced myself to inhale and meet his gaze. "I think, this time, it's more of an arousal thing."