Page 5 of Delicious (Delicious #1)

Chapter Five

Percy

“T ake that!” Two young firefighters were gaming on the station’s TV. It was a slow afternoon in a slow week, so all the chores around the station were done, and I had nothing better to do than watch the young guys duke it out.

“Try executing a roll maneuver next time,” I advised from my position on the other couch.

“Hey, Percy! Didn’t know you gamed.” Caleb grinned over at me. “You want a try?”

“Nah. I’m not that good.” I stretched. Stu was a better gamer than me. The guy had a teen son for a sparring partner, so he got more practice, but I spent all of August trying to beat Stu at the video game he’d hooked me on. Stu, however, was crafty and devious and bought an expansion pack as a back-to-school present for himself. So, September found us gaming on the nights he didn’t have his kids and I wasn’t on call. And fucking. And eating piles of spicy noodles. And some epic post-fucking conversations.

This friends-with-benefits idea of mine was going spectacularly well. We hadn’t even managed to squeeze in a run yet. The list of things I wanted to try with Stu in and out of bed kept getting longer, and adding to my mental list was more fun than watching the guys’ game. I closed my eyes, content to daydream the last few hours of my shift away, only to be jolted awake by Tate, another EMT, jostling me.

“Gotta go. Come on.” He raced ahead to the rig, filling me in on the way. “Football practice accident of some kind. Player ran into a coach, knocked both their wind out, and another player called 911.”

“Eric’s kid?” Our lead paramedic had a senior on the football team, and the last thing I wanted was for him to walk into a situation with his own kid.

“He’s the one who called 911.” Tate gave a tight smile. “Thoughtful enough to tell dispatch to tell his dad he’s okay.”

“Good kid.” I nodded as I hopped into the rig where Eric was already waiting. “We good to go?”

“Let’s roll.” Tate pumped the gas, and we sped the short distance to Mount Hope High School’s football field. The parking lot was full of players leaving from practice, but several remained clustered around two prone forms on the ground. Tony, the coach, waved Eric over to look at one of the players, leaving me to assess the other?—

“Stu?” My eyes went wide. I’d known his kid played football, but somehow, I’d missed the detail that Stu helped coach. My stomach gave a hard, visceral clench. I’d seen no shortage of truly gory stuff in my years on duty, and never once had my lunch threatened to reappear like it was presently.

“Hey, Percy.” Stu managed a weak greeting from his position on the ground as I kneeled beside him. He was far paler than normal and looked smaller from this angle as well. Fragile. Human. Fuck . Now my hands were shaking.

“Where does it hurt?” I asked, trying my damnedest to sound professional and failing miserably.

“I’m okay.” Stu waved away my concern. “I help Tony with coaching the defense, but it was the offense that got me today. Rookie wide receiver crashed into me on the sideline. I’m more worried about him.”

“Eric’s checking him out.” I glanced over to where Tate and Eric were working on the kid. “911 said you got the wind knocked out of you? Did you lose consciousness?”

“Nah.” Stu shrugged, then winced as he coughed. “Just couldn’t speak for long enough for the team to panic and someone to call it in. Which is good because I think Forest is gonna need that knee looked at.”

Continuing to grimace, he reached down and rubbed his ankle.

“What’s wrong with your ankle?”

“Twisted it along with a couple of decent scrapes.” He turned his calf to reveal a good-sized patch of road rash with grass and dirt sticking to it. “I’ll be feeling it tomorrow, but nothing’s broken.”

It could have been. The thought slammed into me. Stu could have been seriously injured. I’d be concerned about any friend, but the urge to gather Stu into my arms and hold him close was a new one. Hadn’t felt that way since…

Oh shit.

No. I refused to fall for Stu. He was a buddy who was hurt. That was all.

“I’m going to check on you later,” I said gruffly.

“You do that.” Stu glanced around before lowering his voice. “Kids are having dinner with their mom. I’ll be home alone with some ice packs.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to go in?” I reached for my medical kit. “Or at least let me clean those scrapes?”

“I’m fine, Percy.”

“Percy?” Eric summoned me before I could push again, and by the time we had the kid and his wrenched knee situated on a gurney for transport, Stu had hobbled off the field under his own power. He’d signed a waiver for Tate, declining transport of his own, leaving me to rush to his doorstep the moment my shift ended.

“I’m fine,” Stu said in lieu of greeting me. He looked freshly showered, but the pink scrapes on his legs and one on his cheek made me want to hug him again. To stifle that urge, I held out the paper bag I’d brought. “What’s this?”

“Dinner.” I’d swung by our favorite Chinese place on my way to his house. “I figured you wouldn’t want to cook while juggling ice packs. Got that noodle dish you liked last time.”

“Thank you.” Stu’s expression softened as he ushered me into the living room. “I’ll return to said ice and the couch if you want to grab plates from the kitchen.”

I’d spent enough time here over the last month or so that I knew where he kept the plates and silverware. I fetched us each a beer, noting he now kept my favorite brand alongside his. Cozy. My stomach twisted again, suddenly none too sure about dinner.

When I returned to the living room, Stu had set the food on the coffee table before stretching out on his couch, ice packs on his ankle, knee, and ribs.

“You should have let us take you in,” I scolded as I dished up a plate of food for him. “I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

“I’m not hurt.” Stu struggled to sit up, wincing again as he accepted the plate. “Maybe a little banged up. But I’m okay.”

“I’m going to check your ribs.” I glowered at him. “What if you cracked something?”

“I didn’t. I’m just old and creaky.” Stu submitted, allowing me to feel around his torso until he finally pushed me toward my plate of food. “Go eat, Percy.”

“Okay.” I stayed quiet while we ate, barely managing to choke down half of my usual portion.

“What’s wrong?” Stu asked at last.

I opened my mouth, fully prepared to make a joke, but what came out instead was, “You matter to me.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Stu blinked.

All I could do was shrug. I pursed my lips. My expression was likely sullen, but I couldn’t help it. This was a fucking crisis, and he couldn’t see it.

“Look. I get it.” Stu patted my jeans-covered knee. “Divorce sucks. Having your heart broken sucks. But discovering it might still work doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”

“Says the eternal optimist.” I huffed. Stu had nailed it, as usual. I was upset to discover I cared about him and all that implied while he took my revelation in stride. “I’m not sure I’m ready for the risk of dating.”

“How exactly is dating different from what we’re already doing?” Stu’s tone was kind yet logical. “You might call it friends with benefits, but you care about my well-being. You’re over every night my kids aren’t here. You ask how my day went via text even if we don’t see each other. You send me dirty memes.”

“Oh God.” I sank back against the couch. “ We’re dating . Fuck.”

“The horrors.” Stu rolled his eyes at me before abruptly setting aside his ice packs and standing. He grabbed our plates and gathered trash. His movements weren’t exactly upset, but they were far more efficient than I usually associated with Stu.

“What are you doing?”

“Cleaning up in case the kids come back, and so I can show you the door.” He gestured toward the front door. “I like you, Percy. A lot. But I like—and respect—me more.”

“I didn’t mean I don’t want to date you . I don’t want to date anyone.” I tried to backpedal, but Stu shook his head mournfully.

“I know my limitations, but I also know my worth. I’ve enjoyed the last month more than I can say.”

“Me too,” I whispered.

“But not enough to date me.” Stu exhaled harshly. “If you want to run from this being something real and good, I won’t chase you.”

“Oh.” My jaw fell open, and I stumbled toward the door. I needed to say something quickly, but I had no clue what.

“Good night, Percy.” And with that, Stu shut the door on our evening, our future as friends with benefits, and on a piece of my heart.

No. He couldn’t have my heart. Could he?

The last six weeks or so of my life flashed through my brain. Stu laughing as we played the video game. Stu feeding me spicy chicken. Stu looking blissed out after sex. Stu showing me his latest painting. Stu welcoming me in with a grin.

Oh fuck. I’d gone and fallen for the guy.

I stumbled back to my place, unlocked the door, and threw myself into my recliner. The same recliner I’d been dozing in when Stu had arrived with a hot dish and rocked my world. I surveyed my blank walls, brown couch, and perfectly boring existence. This was what I had to look forward to. I could go back to flirting with strangers, living my life in monochrome, a word I now knew because, apparently, I’d been unintentionally dating an art teacher.

Fuck me.

Or rather, fuck, Stu. Had I ever had a better sex partner? Ever? He was feisty and competitive outside of bed, submissive and pliant in it, and brought the same creativity to sex that he did everything else. He made me feel sexy and powerful. Did I really want to give that up?

Did he want to give that up? He’d been only too happy to show me the door. Maybe he was getting tired of me too. A siren sounded in the distance, and I reflexively reached for my phone, making sure I wasn’t getting called in. However, even after I verified there wasn’t a missed message, my pulse continued to pound. I felt like I had as a kid after losing my dad, when every siren had made me think of him.

Oh. Stu knew loss and pain too. We shared that early wound. He just hid it better. All the evidence I had from the last month said he liked me as much as I liked him. I was the one being stupid, but we were both running scared.

Well, shit. I glanced down at my silent phone again. How exactly did one ask out the guy he’d been dating for the last month?