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HOME SWEET… FUCK

Theo

The child that darted out in front of my truck was lucky. My reaction was quick enough that his head didn’t meet the bumper.

The tires squealed, piercing the quiet, picturesque scene of the suburban neighborhood.

I held my breath until a woman rushed out into the street. The woman I assumed was his mother scooped her child up in one arm and grabbed the little tricycle he’d been riding with the other. If the scowl she shot my way as she stalked off was any sign, she thought the near miss was my fault.

Not the best way to begin my hopefully short stay in the godforsaken neighborhood. I already didn’t want to be there. Actually, I wanted to be anywhere but there, if I was being honest.

But I didn’t have a choice.

Cautiously and itching to shoot the woman a gesture I knew would only deepen her scowl, I continued down the street. I watched my best friend’s car turn right down a street several houses down and blew out a frustrated sigh.

I was extra vigilant, my eyes whipping back and forth across the street, prepared to slam on the brakes again at a moment’s notice.

Each house was similar to the next. They all had pristinely mowed lawns and brick mailboxes. There were yard signs and garage sale posters. Many of them had American flags hanging somewhere on the exterior, and there were children everywhere .

All of it made me want to turn back around. I already felt out of place. I didn’t think that their lives were perfect. I knew better than that. But they could at least fake it and pretend that they were. I didn’t even have the ability to pretend like my life was anything but a disaster.

I also knew that with one look at me, they would go running. And it wasn’t because of the tattoos covering most of my body, even traveling up my neck and across my hands and fingers. It was like the remnants of my poor circumstances clung to me just as the tattoos did. Even if, unlike the tattoos, they couldn’t see them, most people still knew they were there.

I took the same right Ryder had moments before and spotted his car turning into a driveway halfway up the street.

Trying not to grind my teeth, I pulled into the open space next to him and stared at the house I’d be living in for who the hell knew how long.

Ryder, being the friend and person I knew, had immediately offered up his childhood home to me when I’d realized I didn’t have another option. He was moving back for the fall semester to be closer to an internship he’d snagged.

Just me, Ryder, and his mom. That wasn’t a recipe for disaster or anything.

I’d been on my own for so long that the idea of someone else telling me what I could or could not do felt juvenile.

Ryder had gone on and on for the week leading up to the move about how his mom was cool and understanding. That she’d been young when she got pregnant with him and they’d always been close.

But she was still his mom. My hopes weren’t high.

I knew that his parents had divorced a few years before, and now it was just his mom living in the house he’d grown up in. He’d told me not to worry so many times that I’d begun to worry more. Like every time he said it, he was trying to cover up how worried I should actually be.

Through the windshield, I stared up at their house. Unlike most of the homes we’d passed, their house had character. The house itself was mostly white with dark blue shutters, which wasn’t as eye-catching as the abundance of flowers springing up from the flowerbeds and the bright green front door.

Ryder immediately jumped out of his car and grabbed his duffel and large suitcase from the backseat. I did the same, grabbing my duffel from the seat behind me before meeting him at the bottom of the porch.

“That kid seriously had a death wish,” he said, jerking his chin down the street.

I grunted in response and shook my head.

“My mom’s not home yet,” Ryder said, taking the two steps up the porch and crossing the short distance to the door. “She works downtown, so she usually doesn’t get home until after six.”

With an easy smile, Ryder pushed open the door, and I stepped inside behind him.

He’d always been like that—he was the happy, carefree guy who was rarely without a smile. If Ryder hadn’t been so insistent that we were supposed to become friends, we wouldn’t have. And that would’ve been a shame, because often he was one of the only positive things in my life.

Freshman year of college, he’d spent our entire history class trying to convince me to be his friend. He sat down next to me and didn’t shut up the entire semester. After months, I finally wore down, and we’ve been inseparable ever since.

“Welcome home,” he said, waving to the house and shutting the door behind us.

Fuck , I couldn’t believe I was really doing it. Standing inside the entryway, it all suddenly became real.

Ryder nudged my shoulder with his. “I know that look, come on.” He brushed past me, and I scowled at his back as I reluctantly followed.

“I don’t know what look you’re talking about,” I mumbled.

We walked farther into the house, passing a room that looked like an office with french doors on the right and, on the left, a long table set against the wall displaying several photos of what I assumed were Ryder’s friends and family.

Ryder scoffed and tossed his duffel on the stairs. I took his lead and set mine down next to his.

He pulled open the fridge and grabbed two water bottles, throwing one to me and twisting the top off of his own.

“It’s your ‘I really want to bolt’ look.”

I shook my head, flipped him my middle finger, and considered the rest of the room. To the right, where Ryder was again looking through the fridge, was the open-concept kitchen. There was a large island in the center with a butcher block countertop and cabinets the same shade of green as the front door. The rest of the kitchen counters were lighter granite, and the cabinets lining the walls were white.

There was a small eating area at the back of the house with windows that looked out over the sizable backyard.

One space seamlessly transitioned into the next, and I surveyed the living room to the left. The couch was a light gray and covered in colorful blankets and pillows. There were even more pictures placed on the built-in shelves surrounding the TV.

It was nice and homey and clean and the feeling that I didn’t fit yet again began to rear its ugly head. And I would never admit it out loud, but Ryder was right. That urge to fucking run was strong.

“Wanna go see upstairs?” Ryder asked, yanking me from my thoughts and popping one of a handful of grapes into his mouth.

I really wanted to leave but knew I couldn’t. And I only grew more angry every time I was reminded that my options were limited to one.

But I refused to be without a roof over my head ever again.

So, I nodded and grabbed my bags to follow him up the stairs. There were three bedrooms and two bathrooms on the second floor. The bedroom to the left was Ryder’s, apparently, and the one directly across the hall was mine. His mom’s room was at the end of the hall.

“My mom said it’s all ready for you,” Ryder said as he opened the door to what was supposed to be my room. “New sheets and she cleaned out the closet. Towels and all of that are in the bathroom next to my room. Umm…what else do you need to know?”

The room was a decent size with a queen-size bed and a large dresser. Most of it was decorated in various shades of blue, and there was a window on the opposite side that looked out on what I assumed was the backyard.

There was a blanket tossed over the chair in the corner of the room and new clothes hangers hanging in the closet. Behind that chair and next to the closet door, there was a new fragrance plug-in that filled the entire room with what I thought was vanilla or something similarly sweet.

“So, what do you think?” Ryder asked, interrupting my perusal of the room. He was standing in the doorway, watching me warily yet expectantly.

“It’s a room,” I said, and he blinked once before he chuckled. I didn’t mention, because Ryder already knew, that it was the nicest room I’d had in several years. That urge to run was itching at my skin like a bad fucking rash. Especially when I noted all the ways his mom had prepared it for me.

“Okay, well, I guess get unpacked and we can figure something out for dinner. My mom will probably want to eat with us.”

I nodded, and he walked the few feet to his room across the hall. He immediately turned on the same rock playlist he’d been listening to for the past two years and busied himself with unpacking his own shit.

I just stood there, though. I didn’t think there was a point in unpacking the few things I did have left, especially if I was only going to be there as long as I absolutely had to. Long enough to replenish my savings and get my own place, or at least an apartment with a roommate.

I was already working four to five nights a week at Haven City Tattoos, but I’d find another job if I needed to. It would be a lot, working two jobs and taking a full course load, but I’d make it work. I’d done harder shit.

I trusted Ryder implicitly, but I hadn’t yet met his mom. And she was bound to decide—maybe sooner rather than later—that it wasn’t worth it to let me stay. Especially rent-free, which was still a sore topic between Ryder and me. Trusting anyone like that felt as foreign to me as that damn room did.

But I unpacked anyway. Because if I didn’t, I’d have to hear about it from Ryder. It took me all of three minutes to empty my duffel. Two of which I spent deciding if I should split up my socks and briefs into two separate drawers to make it appear like I had more than I did.

I was sitting on the edge of the bed, idly scrolling through a job search site when Ryder appeared at my doorway.

“Hey, man. All unpacked?”

“Umm…yeah.”

Hearing the hesitation in my voice, Ryder stepped into the room and leaned against the wall. He crossed his arms over his chest and leveled me with an unimpressed look.

“Don’t give me that look.”

“Oh, you can read my looks now, too?”

“Yes, asshole. It’s your ‘you’re being difficult’ look.”

He chuckled and dragged his hand through his dark hair. “Yeah, it is. But seriously, I promise this is going to be great. It’s going to be like living with two roommates instead of one. And both my mom and I are way better than fucking Colby.”

The anger I had to check when I heard my old roommate’s name tasted bitter on my tongue. Colby had not only been dirty, loud, and nosy, he’d also kicked me out when I was at my lowest.

Saying that Ryder and his mom would be better than Colby wasn’t saying much.

“Just give it a chance, okay?”

I took a deep breath and nodded. At the same time, we both heard the door downstairs.

“Mom?” Ryder called a second later.

I wasn’t nervous to meet his mom; I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been nervous for anything, actually. But I was a little on edge. I wasn’t a “meet the parents” type of guy, whether it came to my friends or girlfriends. The tattoos always evoked polarized reactions, and they took my silence as disrespect.

I didn’t enjoy talking.

Most of the time, people weren’t worth the effort it took to have a conversation. And small talk made me want to cut off my own ears and rip out my vocal cords.

“Nope!” a voice from downstairs yelled back, and Ryder smiled.

“Let’s go.”

I hesitated for a moment, but stood nonetheless and followed Ryder back down the stairs.

Rip the Band-Aid off . I only had to meet her for the first time once. She’d welcomed me into her home, I just had to not make her want to kick me out.

Frustration buzzed along my skin. My throat was thick with it, too, as I was reminded once again that I was at someone else’s mercy.

Each time my boots hit the wooden stairs, the sound echoed louder. Halfway down, I could hear Ryder already talking a mile a minute, but I didn’t look up. I stared at my worn, scuffed boots until I was four or five steps away from the bottom. When I finally looked up, all I could see was Ryder’s back. From where I stood, it looked like he was talking to an empty kitchen.

But the bottom step creaked slightly, and he turned at the sound.

“Took you long enough. This is my mom, Natalie. Mom, this is Theo.”

Finally, he stepped to the side and revealed the woman he’d been speaking to.

And I nearly stumbled back.

Her smile hit me square in the chest, and all the oxygen was sucked from the room. Her straight, white teeth were surrounded by full lips.

Struggling to stay standing, my eyes, with a mind of their own, slipped over her body like I had any right to look.

She was still wearing the clothes she’d worn to work—a flowy deep blue top tucked into a black pencil skirt that formed to every single one of her curves. Her legs were bare, and her calves were toned. Lower, I noticed her black heels were fairly high, and they clicked across the dark, hardwood floors as she approached me.

Never had I been so instantly attracted to someone. And my reaction was fucking unsettling.

I realized when she stuck out her hand that I’d been transfixed, openly ogling her as she approached.

My eyes snapped up from where I’d been eyeing the small part of her waist to meet her startling blue eyes. Her black hair fell in waves around her shoulders, and it was a stark contradiction—the darkness of her hair compared to her light eyes.

Like I was on autopilot, I stuck out my hand and clasped hers. Her hand was small, much smaller than mine, but the warmth of her palm pressed against mine was heavy.

“Hi, umm…it’s so nice to meet you, Theo,” she said. Her voice was low and breathy, and hearing my name roll off her lips made blood surge to my cock. My entire body pulsed to the tempo of my name on her tongue.

Well, fuck .

I had to clear my throat twice before I muttered a quiet, “Hi.”

That was all I could manage as my thoughts wandered without my permission.

I shook my head like that would dislodge the thoughts and immediately let go of her hand that I was holding hostage.

But her eyes didn’t leave mine. My menacing look, as Ryder called it, didn’t seem to scare her at all. And I swore that I saw something glimmer behind her blue irises. Something bright and sweet. It couldn’t have been interest, but fuck did it look like it.

Yet as quickly as I’d noticed it, the spark was gone.

Then Ryder asked from the kitchen what we were going to do for dinner. Interrupting the perfect mental image I’d dreamed up: his mom on her knees with tears running down her cheeks to meet the drool pooling around my engorged cock that was wedged between her lips.

Natalie quickly turned and walked back into the kitchen. And it took more effort than I would’ve liked to not watch her ass sway.

This wasn’t fucking happening. This could not be fucking happening to me.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I rolled my neck along my shoulders, but it didn’t relieve any of the tension. Just like stuffing my hands in the front pockets of my jeans didn’t stop them from itching to reach out and touch her.

The swift, sudden reaction wasn’t something I’d experienced before.

Talk about wanting to fucking run. If there ever was a reason to get out, she was it.

“Yeah, that sounds good. Theo, how do you feel about—” Ryder began but stopped abruptly, fishing his phone out of his back pocket. He looked confused when he peered down at it.

“This is my adviser at school. Umm…one second,” he said quickly, and went out the sliding glass door into the backyard as he answered.

Leaving me and Natalie alone.