Page 14

Thirteen

Knox

I stare at Goldie’s fish tank and make a sound between a snort of anger and a sigh of defeat. It’s littered with fish flakes. They’re floating on the surface and sunk to the bottom of the tank, coating the bright pink rocks, fake plants, and the sparkly castle in gross goop. I pick up the jar of fish flakes and realize it’s half empty. Fucking Ryder. He must have dumped a week’s worth of food into the tank before he left on his road trip this morning. I told him before drag brunch last weekend that if he could keep it together, I’d watch Goldie for him while he’s out of town, yet somehow it didn’t click for him.

I queue up a new audiobook—a gay billionaire firefighter and sexy mechanic romance that is so full of yearning and desire, I can hardly keep from sighing as I scoop Goldie out of the tank and plop her into a cup of water so I can clean up the mess Ryder made. Funny, I seem to be doing a lot of that lately. But even though this is a physical mess to clean, it doesn’t bother me quite as much. I use the net to skim the water for all the soggy flakes I can catch, drain the tank, rinse the rocks until I can’t see any more of the nasty flakes, then refill the water and treat it with the drops Ryder brought home from the pet store. I finally release Goldie from her temporary holding cell back into her sparkly castle wonderland. Ryder went out of his way to decorate the fish tank. It’s like a mansion for a goldfish and incredibly…girly. If I didn’t know better, I’d say Ryder has a feminine side or might lean a bit bi himself to have made the choices he did for the fish.

Could Ryder be bi ? I think about the way he touched me in the kitchen, pulling me close and grinding his hard cock against my hip. There was no denying he was turned on by the situation, if not by me. He made sure I felt his lips when he spoke his words directly into my ear, wanting a response from me. Just how straight is Ryder? It’s a spectrum for most people, anyway. But it’s not my place to assume anything. It’s easier to remember Ryder likes a reaction, and is reckless enough to push his limits to get one out of me than it is to consider he would have done that because he has feelings for me that toe the line of platonic or verge into my kind of territory that has him wanting me. I’m smarter than that.

Once Goldie is safely back in her clean tank, I head to the pet store. As I slide into my car, I type out a text to Ryder.

Knox: You’re an attempted murderer.

Ryder’s reply comes minutes later. I wait until I'm at a light to check the message, and his confusion is obvious.

Ryder: The fuck? Did you choke on your protein shake or something? I had nothing to do with that if that’s the case.

Knox: You tried to kill Goldie. That’s no way to take care of your fish, you idiot.

Ryder: Whoa, I didn’t try to kill Goldie. I love her. She’s my child. I want her to thrive.

Knox: So you dumped a week, or even a month’s worth of food, into her tank before you left? You’re a shitty fish dad.

Ryder: Take that back! I’m a good fish dad! She needs to eat, Golden Boy. I made sure she had food while I’m gone.

Knox: No. Just no. Goldfish will eat until they explode. You tried to blow up your fish, Reckless. Besides, the food got all soggy and was super gross in her tank, which is bad for her. That’s no way to care for your fish .

I continue driving while my phone pings with new messages. Once I park at the pet store, I check them.

Ryder: Goldie is smarter than that. She’s disciplined. She eats when she’s hungry, you’ve seen how she leaves some flakes for later.

Ryder: Goldie’s okay, right?

Ryder: She left food for later and didn't eat until exploding. Right?

Ryder: KNOX! Answer me!

Ryder: My fish is alive, right? I didn’t kill her?

Ryder: You fucking suck. I’m mourning the loss of my fish, and it’s all your fault.

I shake my head at the projection of his guilt onto me, and his depth of feeling for the little fish that probably can't even distinguish between his face and the castle in her tank. At least it shows he’s capable of caring deeply about another living creature, and he wants to take care of something. He’s more nurturing than he lets on. I decide to put him out of his self-inflicted misery and text back.

Knox: Goldie is fine. I saved her life. I cleaned her tank out. You can thank me later.

My phone rings as I’m walking into the pet store. I answer it when I see it’s Ryder.

“The fish is alive, chill,” I start, knowing he’s probably spiraling and wanting to put his fears to rest.

“Don’t fuck with me about my fish, Knox,” Ryder says, impertinence in his voice.

“What the fuck do you mean? I’m fixing your mess and taking better care of it than you are, you lame fish dad. I wasn’t about to let your fish eat itself to death like a tiny glutton.” I rub a palm over my face as I look for the fish section of the store. Why am I even putting up with this? I’m doing something nice for him, helping him out, and he’s just an irrational, angry bastard who doesn't know how to say thank you.

“Nothing can happen to her, you got it?” he says, impatience coloring his words now.

“You don’t have to be so grumpy, I’m the one saving your ass. You caused your own distress this time. I was going to have to buy another fish if you killed this one.”

“That’s not even funny.” His voice is deadly serious. Okay, no jokes about his fish dying and replacing it.

“Lesson learned, right? The fish can’t handle half a jar of flakes at once. She’s not like you and your insatiable appetite,” I say, spotting the aquariums and fish bowls. I head down the aisle, looking at all the options and trying to find what I need.

“Hey, fuck you. I’m a growing boy, and I burn a million calories between all my training and games. I can eat what I want. Besides, you know I look good despite what I eat. I’ve seen you checking out my abs.” His tone is haughty, and I can just imagine his eyebrows drawing together as he puffs his chest and points at his abs like he did on stage at the drag show when he proudly showed off his physique. Yeah, he works hard for that body and should be proud. He looks damn good.

“I’m ignoring your statement since you can’t see me rolling my eyes,” I say, my cheeks heating when he calls me out. Finding what I’m looking for, I pick up the package, turning it around and reading the description to make sure it will work. “I’m at the pet store buying an automatic feeder, so there’s no need to dump in so much food if you’re leaving. You just set up the feeder, and she’ll get food every day at a specified time.”

“Ah, Knox, you do care about Goldie! We’re already playing house, so you can be mommy, and I’ll be daddy. We both know you’re more nurturing, anyway,” he quips, a laugh in his words. Why does he always have to laugh at me? I want to wipe the smirk right off his beautiful face.

“You motherfucker, that’s not even funny,” I say, gesturing with the box in my hand to the empty aisle around me.

“Hmm, calling me a motherfucker implies you want me to fuck a mother, and we did just decide you’re Goldie’s, so…you trying to tell me something, Contraire? I knew you were obsessed with me, but this is a new level of interest. I’ll have to think about that proposition.”

His arrogance is unmatched. “You’re an idiot, and once again, I’m ignoring you. This is your damn fish we’re talking about. I shouldn’t be doing anything for it. You left it in squalid conditions and forced me into this.”

“Admit it, you like being forced and told what to do. I know you need a man to dominate you in the bedroom. A little force is a good thing when you’re both into it,” he says, his voice dropping low and dragging through gravel, it’s so rough as he continues with his innuendo and taunting.

My body goes still, my skin burning at his depraved suggestion as I shut my eyes, even though the images he’s conjured play on a loop against the backdrop of my mind. Do I want to be dominated? From this instant reaction, the idea sounds more than ideal. How could Ryder guess that about me? I swallow around the lump in my throat and will myself not to react. I’m in public, a damn pet store, and he’s just fucking with me, anyway.

“I’ll buy the feeder. You need to be more responsible with your fish. Stop messing with me, or you’re going to get it back.”

“Is that a threat, Golden Boy?” he asks with obvious interest. “You want to give me a taste of my own medicine, see how good it feels to be bad for once? Go ahead, give it a try. I’m waiting.”

“I’m hanging up now,” I say, pulling the phone away from my ear.

“Be bad, Knox. It feels really fucking good.” I hear before I end the call.