Chapter Seven
Andreas
“Okay, so your friend is Troy.”
“Yes.” Freddie kept up with my loping stride as we walked south from the water and over to Yaletown in downtown Vancouver.
“And he’s dating Rocco.”
“Yes. They’re living together.”
“And Troy’s best friend is Marco.” I was about to try to cross, but the hand was flashing and Freddie put his hand out to stop me. I huffed my displeasure.
“Yes. Marco and Troy were friends growing up.”
“Okay.” I frowned. “Rocco is Marco’s dad.”
A cyclist came out of nowhere and blew through the red light.
Thank God the intersection’s empty. I would’ve expected more people on a Sunday afternoon.
“Yes. Rocco is Marco’s dad. My friend is dating his best friend’s father. And their getting together story is kind of cute and I suppose it’s weird, but not to us.”
“Right.”
“So maybe don’t make it weird?” He met my gaze.
I held up the hand not clutching the cloth bag with the nice bottle of wine. “I’m all about live and let live. I’m just trying to piece things together.”
“It’s actually pretty straightforward.”
The light turned green, and we walked across the street.
“I met Troy at this restaurant I used to hang out at while reading my books. He wasn’t treated well there, but that’s a whole other story. Anyway, he broke his leg, and he needed a place to stay. Rocco took him in. And, well…”
“They got together…?”
“They fell in love.” Freddie grinned.
My heart stopped. He’s not talking about you. About how he once loved you. “Fell in love. Sounds like a nice story.”
“Well, Marco came home from a study trip and found them in bed together.” Freddie chuckled. “Well, Troy was in bed, naked, and Rocco had gone out to get some food.”
“Oh dear.”
Another laugh. “Yes, you can say that. I’ve heard the story from all three parties at various times over the last eight months.
Each version is slightly different. In the end, though, Marco teases them and is also incredibly happy for them.
Troy…had a rough time growing up. Marco’s mom died, and he worried his dad might never find someone.
Little did he know his dad would wind up with his best friend. ”
“Cute story.”
“Right? And Troy’s starting at UBC in the fall. He’s going to study literature. He just finished his high school studies. His stupid parents kicked him out at sixteen when they found out he was gay. He…struggled.”
“Sounds like it.” I tried to keep the bitterness from my tone.
Freddie squeezed my arm. “Your parents were total shits, Andreas. I’m glad you’re no longer in contact…” His voice trailed off. “You’re not, are you?”
“Oh fuck, no.” I glanced around, relieved not to find any small ears within hearing range. “Nope. Never talked to them again.”
“Okay.” He didn’t look convinced.
“I’m serious, Freddie. When I left for Stanford, I took everything I wanted with me. I haven’t been in contact with them.”
The next light turned green, and we advanced into the intersection.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I just…” He cleared his throat. “I thought…”
“Thought what?”
He appeared about to answer when a car turning right nearly clipped us. I slammed my palm against the hood.
The startled driver, who’d been looking left, shot their gaze to me. Their wide eyes assured me they were just careless and not looking to mow down pedestrians on this lovely, sunny afternoon. The young man held up his hands and mouthed, sorry.
I saluted, guided Freddie around the hood of the car, and continued our trek uphill. “This hill is going to level out soon, right? I mean, I’m fit, but this is a little ridiculous.”
“Next intersection it’ll be flat. We’re more than halfway there.” He offered me a grin.
Thought what? The driver had interrupted our conversation and I couldn’t decide if I should start it up again where we’d left off. He didn’t appear to be in any hurry to, though, so I let it drop.
As promised, at the next intersection, things were flat instead of an incline. We walked silently for a block when I pointed. “What the hell is that?”
He laughed. “I’ve asked myself that question many times. I suppose the straightforward answer is that it’s a building.”
“Yeah, okay, I get that. But why does it look…” I tilted my head. “That’s more like something you would see in LA. I thought Vancouver was, you know…”
“Boring? Well, sure. If you wander around, you can find a few architectural gems like that one. It’s a newer building. Tell you what…one day, let’s go for a walk in downtown. We can borrow someone’s dog and wander around.”
“You want to borrow someone’s dog?”
“Well, walking’s more fun with a dog. Although then you can’t go inside if you find something interesting. I walk my neighbor’s dog all the time. More fun than just marching up and down the street by myself.”
“Isn’t that what treadmills are for?”
He waved me off. “I like to get outside. Even when it’s raining, I prefer walking or running in the rain.”
Him running. Water beading down his face. Hair soaked. Muscles flexing.
Right. Just get a boner in the middle of downtown Vancouver, why don’t you? “How much farther?”
“Not far. That’s the central library—” He pointed. “—and across the street is the broadcast center for one of the country’s major television networks.”
“Let’s just avoid them, if you please. No cameras.”
He chuckled. “You appear on camera for a living.”
“Different format entirely.” I gazed up at the soaring glass-and-concrete structures everywhere. “These are all office towers?”
He shook his head. “Downtown is mixed use. So along certain streets it might be a condo tower in one block and an office building in the next. That’s great if you can afford to live in one of these and you work downtown. Alas, the prices are insane, and most people commute from the suburbs.”
“Oh, okay.” Commuting equaled traffic—something I did my best to avoid.
“Two more blocks.” He grinned. “Oh, and you should probably know Troy and Marco are a year younger than you.”
I wasn’t entirely certain how that was relevant except it got me wondering how old Rocco was. I couldn’t fathom dating anyone as old as my dad.
Just…ick.
Except when I shook Rocco Moretti’s hand, I was totally not grossed out. The guy was, frankly, handsome. Dark-brown hair, sparkling blue eyes, just under six feet and solid muscle. He had a tight grip. “So, you’re Freddie’s friend. Welcome.” He held open the door to his condo.
I stepped inside and toed off my sneakers.
Freddie was just behind me.
“Keep going through to the kitchen. Marco’s boiling corn on the cob. You’ll love it.”
“Nebraska farm boy. Corn on the cob is a staple of my diet.” And I hadn’t eaten much of it in LA. Never found the time.
A young man greeted us with a grin. No question this was Marco—same dark coloring as his dad. “Hey!” He spied my bag. “Did you bring me something?”
“Goofball.” Another young man whacked him on the side of the head. “He brought it here for me.” He extended his hand. “Troy.” His dark-brown eyes shone and his shorn haircut suited him. He was my height—so a good half-a-foot taller than his best friend or his best friend’s dad.
I shook. “Andreas.”
He blinked. Then his gaze shot to Freddie.
Who winced.
Well, okay then. So he’s talked about me before. And obviously not in flattering terms.
I yanked the bottle out of the cloth bag.
“Wine. A good vintage? I admit to really only knowing California wine—and those not all that well. No wine in Nebraska. Well, there’s wine but we don’t grow it.
I considered buying the ice wine because how cool is that, but those bottles were teeny-tiny and, like, Freddie implied you guys were all huge. ”
My eyes widened.
“Not that he had carnal knowledge of you guys.” Oh Jesus, stop talking. “Although maybe he does. I mean, I haven’t seen him in seven years, and maybe he’s changed. I know I’ve changed. I’m like, clearly unable to stop talking—”
A clap on my back had me startling into silence. I whipped around.
Rocco held up his hands. “All good. Sorry, I should’ve warned you. When Troy goes off, a nice reminder that we’re amongst friends helps. Sorry to out you, sweetheart.”
Troy smiled with, I’d have sworn to God, hearts in his eyes. “I’ve gotten better. You’re a calming influence.”
A snort came from Marco as he caught my gaze. “Lovebirds. Hopefully you can take all the happiness.”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Great.” He snagged the bottle of wine.
I shoved the cloth bag at Rocco because that felt like the most logical thing to do.
He smiled. “You’re amongst friends. Now, how about Freddie helps me with the barbecue and you can relax in here?” He pointed to a barstool at the kitchen island.
I plopped.
Marco sat beside me, pulled up a chopping board, a knife, and a yellow pepper. “So, tell me about this acting thing. I’m doing my PhD in environmental science and was up in the Yukon last year.”
My ears perked. “Oh, wow. We’re moving filming up there for a week because it’s like Alaska.”
“Yeah? I can tell you a few stories.”
I let out a breath. “I’d love that.”
“Only if you tell me about Norah O’Shay.” He winked.
I smiled.