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But that was ridiculous.

Right?

“I should go to sleep,” she said finally, yawning into the receiver; Colby thought of her wet, pink tongue before he could help himself, and balled his free hand into a fist.

“Okay,” he managed, and to his credit his voice was only the slightest bit strangled. “Have a good sleep.”

“Night, Colby.”

Colby hit end and set his phone on the nightstand, then rolled over and groaned once into the pillows before he turned out the light.

Doug Robard was already sitting in a booth at Bob Evans when Colby got there early the next morning, drinking coffee and reading the paper in cargo pants and a polo shirt. Colby didn’t know what he’d expected—it wasn’t like he thought the guy was going to show up wearing a feather boa—but he still kind of felt like a piece of shit for thinking... whatever it was he’d thought. He didn’t even know how he knew Doug was gay, other than off-color jokes Rick and Matt had made about him. He cringed to think what Meg would have said if she’d heard.

“Good to see you, Colby,” Doug said, once they’d shaken. “Been a long time since you and your brother used to run around on your dad’s job sites.”

“He hated that,” Colby said with a grin.

“Nah, he didn’t,” Doug said easily. “That guy loved having you two nearby.”

The waitress showed up before Colby could answer, a woman a little older than his mom with glasses the size of dinner plates; Colby ordered a stack of pancakes and a side of bacon, then dumped a bunch of cream and sugar into his coffee before taking a sip.

“Keith speaks real highly of you,” Doug said, once the waitress was gone.

“He does?” Colby blinked, surprised. Keith was always spouting all kinds of inspirational bullshit, but Colby had always figured it was for his benefit. It was weird to think of him saying it to other people.

Doug smiled. “Yeah, Colby. He says you’re a smart kid, that maybe you need some direction.” He raised his eyebrows. “Told me about the water tower, too.”

Of course he fucking had. “Yeah,” Colby said—looking down and picking at his cuticles, trying not to visibly bristle. “That was pretty stupid, I guess.”

Doug took a sip of his coffee. “It was,” he agreed. “Was stupid back when I did it, too.”

Colby’s gaze snapped up. “You climbed the water tower?”

Doug nodded. “I was a little younger than you, probably? Scaled it in January of my senior year with a buddy of mine, only once we got up there it started snowing like a mother, and he got the yips and couldn’t climb down. Had to scream our asses off until finally some neighbor woman heard and called the fire department to come get us.”

“No way,” Colby said, unable to hide his smile.

“Way, my friend.” Doug nodded his thanks as the waitress topped off his coffee cup. “So,” he said, “Keith told you I’m looking for an apprentice carpenter.”

“He did,” Colby said, then cleared his throat when he heard how dorkily squeaky his voice sounded. “He did.”

Doug nodded. “It’s not going to be particularly glamorous,” he warned. “A lot of grunt work—moving materials, sweeping up, that kind of thing. But in my experience, guys who don’t mind grunt work are the same ones you can trust with sophisticated work later on. And if we both feel like it’s a good fit, there’s room for you to grow.”

“I don’t mind grunt work,” Colby said, trying not to sound too eager.

“Well,” Doug said, “that’s good to hear.”

They talked about the projects Doug had in the pipeline, big restoration jobs up closer to Columbus and a full gut on an old mansion a theater group was converting into a performance space in Chillicothe. When he finally named the salary out loud, Colby had to struggle to keep his face neutral: it was more than twice what he was making at the warehouse.

There was no way this was actually going to happen, he reminded himself, swallowing the last of his pancakes.

Meg’s voice whispered: But what if it does?

Matt was at the house when Colby got back from work late that afternoon, standing in the yard throwing the tennis ball to Tris. “Mom home?” Colby asked, and Matt shook his head.

“Not yet.” He tucked his hands into the pockets of his khakis. “What were you doing on a date with Doug Robard this morning?”

“First of all, fuck you,” Colby said, not unpleasantly. He’d known this was coming, though it had happened faster than he thought. “Second of all, who says I was with Doug Robard?”