8. Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
Paul
“Maddox! Come on, it’s time to go!” I holler as I grab my keys off the hook. Ten seconds later, it sounds like a stampede of elephants in my apartment as Maddox zooms out from the hall.
“Where’s your bag?”
He looks up at me like I’m speaking gibberish, but this is hardly the first time we’ve done this.
“Go.” I nod towards his room. “Hurry up, or we’re going to be late.”
He lets out an aggravated huff as he trudges off to his room to grab his things.
Technically, he doesn’t need an overnight bag, but after the first hundred drop offs because he wanted something or forgot it, or left it at his mom’s, it was just easier on both Amelia and I to make sure he packs everything he wants to take with him in his backpack.
I’m sure Amelia won’t care if we are a few minutes late, but I don’t want to make a habit of it.
Plus, I told Dre I’d be over around one and it’s already nearing twelve thirty.
A few seconds later, Maddox barrels down the hall and nearly knocks the wind out of me when his backpack hits me in the stomach, almost knocking my duffel off my shoulder.
“Sorry!” he calls out as I catch my breath and lock the door just as he’s climbing into the back of the Jeep.
I toss my duffel in the front seat before getting into the driver’s seat.
“Are you going somewhere?” he asks curiously.
“Huh?”
“Your bag,” he says, narrowing his gaze at me.
This kid doesn’t miss a damn thing. I swear, there’s no getting anything past him.
“No, I’m just hanging out with Dre.”
There’s a weird tension as I focus on turning down Sunset, which means we’re roughly ten minutes away from Amelia’s.
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
I snap my gaze at him. “What? No, why the hell would you think—”
“Because the only time Mom packs a bag is when she goes to see Sean, and the only time you pack a bag is to go see Grandma, and she’s in Florida.”
I let out a low sigh because this is not the conversation I wanted to have this morning.
“No, I don’t have a girlfriend,” I say, trying to sound as unbothered as possible.
“Oh,” he says. “Why not?”
I brush past his question, not because I don’t want to answer it, but because I don’t know what to say.
I haven’t seriously dated anyone since before Amelia, and in all honesty, we never really dated.
We were two friends who got drunk at a party and hooked up, and I got her pregnant.
We got married. We had Maddox. We got divorced.
In college, I was focused on my scholarship and being single.
And after the divorce, I wasn’t exactly looking for a second shot at failure.
“Alright, buddy, I’ll see you Monday, okay? Try not to give your mom too much trouble.” I smile at him.
He rolls his eyes, just as I see Sean and Amelia come around the side of the house. I lean out the side of my Jeep and whisper to Maddox.
“But feel free to give Sean Jean as much trouble as you like.” I wink at him, and he laughs as Sean waves at me. I give him a small wave back as Maddox runs up to his mother.
I don’t hate the guy or anything. He’s nice enough, I guess, though I don’t know him well enough to say we could be friends.
But as long as he treats Maddox alright, I’m good.
I don’t need the guy to be my best friend.
I already have one of those. And I’m looking forward to spending the day with him.
And almost as if the man can read my mind, I get a text from him.
Dre: Just come around back when you get here.
I shoot off a thumbs up text before I pull out of the driveway and head over to Dre’s.
Thankfully, it’s not busy at this time of the day, so I don’t hit much traffic and end up making it there at precisely one on the nose.
I can’t help but marvel at how perfect his house looks.
The yard, the porch, and the landscaping look like something right off a postage stamp.
Though there’s this weird feeling in my stomach I can’t seem to shake, almost like nerves.
Maybe I’m just feeling off because Maddox caught me off guard with the girlfriend question.
Did he ask because he wants me to get one, or because he doesn’t?
Yeah, it’s definitely his question that’s throwing me.
I grab my duffel and make my way around the back, just like he said to, and I have to do a double take.
The light blue pool water glitters from the sun as a few rafts float about—a pizza slice, a donut, and a big unicorn that you can ride.
There’s a fire pit that wasn’t there the last time I was here, just off to the side, surrounded by loungers and chairs.
But what hits me more than how beautiful the scene itself is, is the smell of burgers and hot dogs on the grill.
My gaze trails over the yard as I pull on the strap of my duffel, to find Dre, standing there in his trunks with his back to me, flipping fucking burgers.
I don’t know if it’s just the sun or his natural tan, but I can see every corded muscle in his back.
He’s always been a fit guy, which I can respect.
But then again, he has to be, considering he has to keep up with the players and set an example.
The only example I’m setting is for teenagers who are more concerned about what water bottle they can show off in class rather than how many push-ups they can do or how fast they can run.
“Hey,” I call out, and he turns to look over his shoulder. Immediately, I notice the way his eyebrows raise and the smile forms on his face. Like he’s genuinely happy to see me, even though it’s only been a week since we hung out last.
It somehow feels like no time at all and too long all at once as my stomach settles.
“Hey,” he says, smirking before bringing his attention back to the grill.
“Getting the party started without me?” I tease as I come up behind him. I glance over his shoulder at the row of burgers and dogs, which look about half-way done.
“Well, you are late,” he says, but his tone is light, humorous.
“Am not. I pulled in at exactly one o’clock. Like I said.” The heat from the grill makes me sweat a little, and my eyes water.
“Uh huh. Sure.” He nods towards the door on the back porch. “Can you grab the fruit and the salad from the kitchen island?”
“Fruit and salad, huh?” I tease. “Boy, you really pulled out the big guns today.”
“Shut up,” he says with a laugh, and I do as he asks, heading into the house.
It’s huge, and somehow looks even larger because it’s so clean and bright.
Not to mention the main level doesn’t have a lot going on in terms of color or decor, which is surprising.
But then again, maybe that’s on purpose.
I drop my bag off on one of the chairs at the island and see not just a salad and a big tray of fruit, but there’s also a cheese and pepperoni board—at least, I think there is pepperoni on there—and a giant hummus platter with veggies and pita chips.
Did he seriously get all this for just us?
I grab the salad and the tray of fruit, like he asked, and make my way outside.
“Where do you want these?”
Dre points to the large patio table on the porch to the left, and I make my way over to deposit the tray and bowl of salad and notice the patio table is set with two plates, napkins, and silverware—not the disposable plastic kind, either—and there’s a bucket of ice on the table with four beers in it.
There’s also plates with buns, burger toppings—everything from cheese to onions, lettuce, tomatoes, and pickles, and even jalapenos and crispy fried onions—and six different condiments.
If this wasn’t his backyard, I’d swear it was a restaurant.
“Thanks,” he says as he sets down a plate full of cooked burgers and hot dogs.
“Gotta admit, you outdid yourself,” I say as I take a seat.
Dre does the same, reaching for the beers and pops the caps, sliding one to me.
“It’s nothing.” He shrugs.
I take the beer, relishing in its coolness against the heat of my palm.
“No, it’s definitely something,” I say, taking a sip of my beer. “A guy could get used to this kind of treatment.”
He smirks, letting out a low laugh. “Maybe we should do it more often.”
“Maybe.” Between the heat, the food, the beer, the water, and Dre, I can’t remember the last time I felt this good. Probably when we went to New York to see Austen and the guys, which was…
Fuck, was it already like four, five months ago? Shit.
I’ve been on the pizza raft for what feels like hours, next to Dre, the two of us just chatting about everything and nothing, and it’s the easiest thing in the world.
That’s when the words fall out of my mouth without warning.
“Maddox asked me if I had a girlfriend today.”
Dre shifts on the raft beside me, careful not to put too much pressure and upend my buzzed ass into the cool water.
“Oh?” I nod. “Wonder why he asked that.”
“He noticed my bag.” I turn my head to look at Dre who’s turned to his side, his palm resting on his chin.
The look on his face is stern, focused. Like he’s more than just invested in what I have to say.
Like whatever it is I’m about to say is not just an answer, but something else.
Though that could just be the beer and the heat.
“Said Amelia usually packs one when she goes to see Sean.”
There’s an odd silence as Dre shrugs.
“What did you tell him?”
“Told him no, obviously,” I grumble, looking at the space between us.
Some warm water sloshes back and forth, left from us jumping up onto the damn thing and being heated by the sun all afternoon.
I don’t even know what time it is, nor do I care.
Time passes too slowly when we’re together, anyway. “Which would have been fine, but—”
Dre shifts a little closer, the raft dipping until I slide forward, close enough our fingers touch.
“But what?”
“He asked why not? And I guess I didn’t know what to say. I don’t want to be single, but…”
“It’s easier,” Dre says, his voice barely a whisper.
“Yeah.”
I don’t know how long we stay there, in the heat of the sun, just being there.
I only know that when Dre rolls off into the water, splashing me, that the weird stomach flipping thing happens again.
I sit up on the raft, watching as he swims over to the ladder and realize the sun’s starting to set. So I do the same.
“Let’s start a fire,” Dre suggests.
“Sure.” I clear my throat, which feels oddly dry.
Dre’s voice falters as his lips part, and for a minute, it looks like he’s somewhere else. In his head, his memories, maybe. I reach out to grasp his arm, give him a reassuring squeeze, and that seems to bring him back to the here and now.
“You okay?”
He shakes his head, seemingly brushing off the strange moment, and forces a smile.
“Yup. Never better.”