Page 3

THREE

HOLY FUCKING SHIT BALLS

Natalie

“Hold on, I think you need another one,” Caroline, my best friend, said, standing from where we were both reclined on the couch to find the other bottle of wine we’d opened.

She’d known that Ryder and his best friend were moving in for the fall semester, but after a whirlwind few days, I hadn’t had a chance to fill her in on how everything had completely changed.

It had been less than a day since Ryder left, and Theo had agreed to stay with a quick, solemn nod. I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or relieved that I’d taken Ryder’s side, but he hadn’t continued to argue. We’d still had dinner that night, Ryder and I holding most of the conversation and Theo only jumping in when he was asked a question directly.

Ryder didn’t appear put off by Theo’s behavior, so I assumed it was the norm for him.

On the awkwardness scale, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, and afterward, we’d immediately begun preparing Ryder for his internship. He had an apartment the company provided as well as a roommate who was also part of the internship program.

He had most of what he needed already, but I did buy him a larger suitcase.

He’d left thirty-six hours after he received the phone call. And Theo and I were officially alone.

Suddenly my house felt both too big and too small. Which was why I invited Caroline over. Another decision I was worried I’d grow to regret.

“He’s here, right?” she whispered. I offered her my empty glass, and she poured a generous amount of rosé before she reclaimed her spot beside me.

We should’ve met at her house, but she said something about painters working when I suggested it. Theo was upstairs, and if I knew anything about my best friend, it was that she had a hard time being quiet on her best days.

I nodded and glanced back toward the stairs before taking a long sip.

“What’s he like?”

I shrugged. “Quiet. Tall.” Gorgeous, mysterious, confusing.

She rolled her eyes at my lackluster answer. “Besides tall, what does he look like?”

I tried to hide my expression before it slipped free. But it was futile, she’d seen my reaction before I could properly suppress it.

“Wait a second.” She set her own glass on the coffee table and readjusted so she was facing me. “That face means he’s either butt fucking ugly or he’s gorgeous,” she said too enthusiastically and excited for her own good. “Oh, please, please tell me he’s gorgeous.”

She pressed her hands together in front of her chest like she was praying for the second option.

“He’s…gorgeous,” I sighed, resigned to the fact that I would have to tell her. She would’ve figured it out eventually, and it was better to let her get it all out when it was just the two of us.

She squealed, and I shushed her while she bounced up and down in her spot.

“Okay, I can’t wait to see him and meet him. But until then, tell me everything. I want every detail.”

Caroline was only a few years younger than me. At thirty-two, she owned a successful event planning business she’d opened right out of college. She hadn’t found a company she wanted to work for, so she decided to make one herself.

That was the kind of person the outgoing and driven blonde was. In her work, she was dedicated and hardworking. But outside of the office, she loved to let loose and live her life to the fullest.

We’d become fast friends when she moved into the house down the street several years earlier. She’d attended the annual Fourth of July barbecue, and we bonded over the stupidity of a few of our neighbors. What better way was there to become friends than to talk shit and gossip about others?

She was headstrong and opinionated. She rarely had a filter, and I envied her for it. It was one way I wished I was more like her. I would’ve loved to be more carefree and opinionated.

But unlike Caroline, I did want a committed relationship. She’d claimed on more than one occasion she didn’t see the point of it.

Getting married again was still a long way off for me, but I wanted to find someone else. Eventually . I thought that maybe my forever person was still out there.

I downed the rest of my wine, and Caroline’s gray eyes widened.

“He’s tall,” I said again, beginning with his most obvious and inconspicuous features, and before I could say anything else, she asked, “How tall?”

I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly how the conversation was going to go—no matter what I said, she’d want more details.

I held out my hand, and she glowered at me from beneath her lowered lashes. “Please save your questions until the end,” I requested.

She let out an exasperated sigh but nodded while simultaneously waving at me to hurry the hell up.

“He’s six foot two, maybe? I know he’s got to be at least a foot taller than me. He has curly brown hair and brown eyes. And…tattoos. He’s covered in tattoos.”

A slow smile spread across her face, and her eyes lit up with a mischievousness I knew all too well. Nothing good came from that look.

“I knew it was only a matter of time before you fell for a bad boy type.” She winked, and my stare remained flat. “Anyway, how would you know that they’re everywhere? That they cover his entire body?”

I threw my head back and groaned toward the ceiling. “Okay, fine. I don’t technically know, but they go up his neck and over his fingers. I feel like it just makes sense that they would be…everywhere.”

She nodded her agreement and refilled my wine. I sipped it idly as she pursed her lips.

“So, you’re attracted to him.”

I nearly choked, and the burn made my eyes water. “He’s twenty-three,” I croaked out.

It was Caroline’s turn to roll her eyes. “Age has nothing to do with it, babe. He’s well over eighteen, and that’s all that matters. And he’s not the same age as Ryder?”

“He took some time off of school or something. I don’t know, we didn’t get into specifics. But you call five years ‘well over’? He’s still fourteen years younger than me.”

She shrugged. “He can buy a beer, and he likely knows how to use his cock by now, too.”

“Holy shit, we are not having this conversation right now,” I whisper-yelled and glanced again at the stairs. Theo was in his room, likely with the door firmly shut, but the last thing I needed was for him to overhear anything Caroline had or would say.

Theo and I hadn’t spoken since Ryder left the evening before, and I didn’t want to make matters worse by him overhearing my best friend talk about his cock.

“Oh hell yes, we are,” she said, at least a little quieter. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Yes, he is hot. Are you happy?”

The grin that split her face was obnoxious, and all I wanted to do was wipe it off. Her teasing and prying were not helping anything. I was already self-conscious about my one-sided attraction, I didn’t need her making me feel worse.

“I’m not sure why you’re so upset about a hot guy living under your roof.”

“Please, stop. This cannot be happening to me…”

“What? Being attracted to your son’s best friend?”

I smacked her in the arm, and all she did was laugh at my antics. “Can you not say it like that?”

She only winked, and I wanted to throttle her right then and there.

“I…” I began and decided the truth was the best option. “I don’t know if it’s even him so much, as it’s been almost two years since anything has happened with anyone.”

Her eyes widened in shock, and she clasped one of her hands around mine. All signs of joking gone, she asked, “Honey, are you serious?”

“Why on earth would I lie about something like that?”

“Okay, fine, you’re right. So, what are we going to do about this little issue?”

I shook my head and pulled my hand back, burrowing farther under the blanket I’d draped over us both.

I wasn’t sure anything could be done. I’d slept with one guy after Mark moved out and before the divorce was finalized, thinking that since I’d known the divorce was imminent, I was ready to move on. Except I wasn’t.

One of my coworkers had set me up with him, and the date had gone well enough that I decided to rip off the metaphorical Band-Aid and jump in bed with him. It was when he was panting on top of me like we’d just run a marathon, reeking of the garlic we’d had for dinner, that I knew I’d made a mistake.

I’d faked an orgasm just so it would be over.

He fell asleep almost immediately. I left in the middle of the night and spent an hour in the shower when I got home trying to scrub the feeling of his hands from my body.

That was almost two years ago. I’d gone on a few dates since then, but they hadn’t turned into anything more than that. I hadn’t been on a date since the papers were signed and the courts made it official. I’d nearly given up on dating altogether.

“What can I do?”

I honestly didn’t think being single was going to be so complicated. But I wouldn’t change my decision—our divorce was for the best.

I never wanted to marry Mark, but when you’re freshly sixteen years old, pregnant, and homeless because your parents kicked you out, you do what you have to do. Mark’s parents were willing to let me live with them if we got married, so that’s what we did.

We lived with his parents until we could afford our own apartment, and then eventually bought the house I still lived in.

We weren’t miserable the entire time, though. There were times, years even, when I was almost happy. Ryder made life so much better; he was the light of my life. And I stayed with Mark because of him.

Two years ago, I finally decided I was done being almost happy sometimes, yet often miserable, and told him I wanted a divorce.

Mark didn’t even act surprised. We didn’t fit anymore.

And even if it was the right thing for all of us, it still fucking sucked.

“When was the last time you went out on a date?”

I thought for several seconds, but it didn’t take long for the memories to come rushing back. “I think the last time was when I went out with your sister’s friend, maybe?”

“Oh! You mean the one that smelled like cabbage?”

I nearly gagged at the memory. “Yes, cabbage guy.” He worked with Caroline’s sister’s boyfriend or something like that, and she’d never actually met him before setting me up.

We’d texted and talked on the phone a few times, and he seemed nice enough. He picked the restaurant, and when he leaned in to hug me, I was overwhelmed by the smell of freshly cooked cabbage. It was all I could focus on the rest of the night since the stench had seared itself into my nostrils.

I couldn’t even remember the guy’s name and only referred to him as “cabbage guy” if I referred to him at all.

“That was so long ago. Okay, yeah, we’re going to have to fix this. Now that I know you’re interested in dating and fucking…” She paused, waiting for my confirmation, which I begrudgingly gave with a nod of my head. “Then let me set you up. I know exactly the right guy.” The conspiratorial smile and gleam in her eye made me immediately want to refuse.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she warned. “I’ve actually met this guy on more than one occasion. He’s in his midforties, a widower, and has two sons, I think, that are around Ryder’s age. And he is a total DILF.”

“And how do you know this guy?”

She shrugged and said, with a cavalier nonchalance I envied, “I fucked his brother a time or five.”

“Oh, good. I get the ugly brother then?”

She tossed her head back and laughed loudly. “No, they’re both extremely attractive. Their entire family won the genetics lottery.”

My prospects were so few that I considered letting Caroline set me up. The idea of going out to a bar to meet someone or joining a dating app sounded more miserable than letting my friend pick someone out for me.

“I can tell you’re overthinking it, but just listen, if it doesn’t work out, then oh well. It won’t make it awkward for me, and you never have to see him again. And maybe he will be at least decent enough to break your two-year hiatus and get your mind off of Theo.”

Nervously, I fidgeted with the edge of the blanket, pulling at a stray string and contemplating her argument. I really needed something . I needed a change to pull me out of my rut. And maybe a date with?—

“What’s his name?”

“Umm…Tanner.”

Maybe a date with Tanner would at least be a good start.

“Theo is definitely a much hotter name than Tanner,” she said, almost absent-mindedly, and I narrowed my eyes at her.

“Let me think about it.”

“Sure, you go ahead and?—”

Caroline’s eyes were wider than I’d ever seen them and transfixed on something just behind me. Without looking, I knew what—or better yet, who —caught her attention.

I cursed under my breath and chanced a quick look over my shoulder. Apparently neither of us had heard the stairs creak as Theo descended them. Caroline only noticed him when he’d stepped into view and frozen mid-motion on the second to last step. I guess he hadn’t heard us either, which was a relief given our topic of conversation.

His hair was still damp from the shower, and I swore I could smell his body wash even from several feet away. I silently chastised myself for wanting to investigate further, to bury my face in his neck to see if that’s what I smelled and what it was exactly. My cheeks flamed at the thought.

Theo’s attention bounced between me and Caroline, who still sat gobsmacked with her jaw slack.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said quietly, taking the final two steps down the stairs.

He didn’t wait for a response from either of us before continuing into the kitchen and pulling open the freezer.

“Holy fucking shit balls,” Caroline whispered. “I’m speechless. Do you know how hard it is for me not to come up with words?! I always have something to say!”

She tried to reach for me, but I smacked her hand away. I grabbed my wine at the same time she called to Theo, “I’m Caroline, Nat’s best friend, and you’re definitely not interrupting anything.”

I whipped my head toward her and gave her my most unimpressed look, which she blatantly ignored. There was no missing her flirty tone or lilt to her voice.

“Oh, shit,” Caroline muttered, quickly finishing off the one glass of wine she’d allowed herself. “Sorry, I have a meeting with potential clients in like an hour. I have to go.” I mentally did the math on the odds of me being able to convince her to reschedule her meeting so she could be my new buffer.

But I already knew the answer: zero.

She jumped from the couch, toed on her shoes, and kissed my cheek before I even realized what was happening.

“I’ll text you later, Nat,” she said, but paused at the bottom of the stairs and watched Theo in the kitchen. She bit her lower lip, and her gaze lazily perused his body. “And I’m sure I’ll see you soon, Theo.”

Mortifying. My best friend was mortifying, and I was going to kill her for it.

The front door gently clicked closed behind her, and yet again I was faced with two options: talk to him or disappear upstairs into my room like the teenager he made me feel like.

I acted like it was a toss-up, but it wasn’t, and my curiosity won out.

Standing, I hadn’t realized how much the wine was affecting me until I felt my legs wobble underneath me. I steadied myself against the couch and finally walked into the kitchen.

Theo leaned back against the counter, staring at the floor and waiting for whatever he put in the microwave to finish warming. I noticed last night that he’d put a couple of frozen dinners in the freezer and a few drinks in the fridge. That was the extent of the groceries he’d purchased unless he was keeping snacks up in his room.

That thought kind of made me sad. I should have been doing more to make him feel welcome, but it was hard when my skin heated and my heart raced when I was near him.

Pushing away all other thoughts, I took a seat at one of the barstools and tucked my legs underneath me. I propped my elbows on the counter and said, “Heating up dinner?”

He tilted his head up, brown curls falling over his forehead as one side of his mouth curled slightly.

“Very perceptive.”

I cocked my head yet smiled at his sarcasm. At least he’d responded.

“I was planning on cooking tonight…”

“I have to work,” he said quickly and turned to fetch his meal from the microwave.

While he stirred it, I asked, “Where do you work?” I couldn’t believe I hadn’t asked that simple question yet.

“Haven City Tattoos.”

“You’re a tattoo artist?”

He replaced the meal in the microwave, tapped a few buttons, and then turned back to me. He again leaned back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing what I’d realized was his usual attire: black T-shirt, worn jeans, and black boots. It was like his uniform. I hadn’t seen him in anything different since he moved in. Although I had no issue with it. It definitely worked for him.

He lifted his eyebrows as if to silently say, “You don’t believe me?” I didn’t mean to sound surprised, because I genuinely wasn’t. I was intrigued.

I had to swallow before I responded. The challenge in his eyes stirred something within me that I couldn’t tamp down even if I wanted to.

“I guess that explains all the ink then. Have you ever tattooed yourself?”

“Once or twice.”

I nodded and readjusted my position on the barstool.

“So you probably work pretty late then,” I inferred, and he only tilted his head slightly. “That must be hard with school.”

The microwave beeped, and he pulled out the steaming meal. With measured steps, he crossed the kitchen to the trash can and disposed of the plastic film before walking back.

I couldn’t stop watching him. Everything he was doing was so menial, yet I was wholly enchanted by the way he moved. His muscles flexed, and his attention stayed firm on each task at hand.

I especially enjoyed watching his hands. Beneath the tattoos, there were veins running the length of his hands, and his fingers were thick. But they were also steady and gentle and…

Stop staring at his hands, Natalie.

“I guess you pay for school yourself, then?” The words flew out in a rush before I could consider that maybe that topic was also off limits, just like the one about where he grew up. So, I continued speaking, trying desperately to backtrack and sound less judgmental and accusatory.

“I got an associate’s degree, but that took me four years,” I began, staring down at the butcher block counter and fidgeting with a piece of junk mail. “It’s kind of challenging going to school and raising a toddler. My ex-husband got a bachelor’s degree, and I stayed home while he did that. But I eventually got a job, and I have a great job now, so I guess it all worked out. However, I do think college is a really good idea if you can manage to go or if you want to go, because I know it’s also not for everyone. I think I would have liked to go for all four years. I really like learning new things…”

My words finally trailed off when I realized I’d been rambling like a lunatic. I’d also folded the piece of paper in my hands over and over again until it was an eighth of its original size.

Theo was standing on the other side of the island, hands braced on the counter, and an amused smirk playing on the corners of his lips. It was the first whisper of a smile I’d seen from him.

My heart jumped into my throat at the playful light in his eyes that accompanied the small grin.

“Now I know where Ryder gets it from,” he said in a voice that sounded like warm honey.

“What?” was all I could come up with. My brain was literal mush. I couldn’t focus on much else besides the way his hands gripped the edge of the counter and how his eyes scanned every inch of my face.

“You talk a lot.”

I flushed at the comment and fumbled for the right words, which was ironic since he was right and I couldn’t shut up when I was nervous. Finally freeing my gaze from his, I looked up to the ceiling and chuckled. “Yeah, I kind of ramble when I’m nervous.”

“I make you nervous.” Not a question but a statement. I jerked my chin back down, once again meeting those intense brown eyes.

I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath until my lungs began to burn. And that was why my next words came out all breathy. At least, that’s what I told myself. It had nothing to do with how I suddenly felt lightheaded under his attention.

“Kind of. You don’t really say much, so…”

He took the last bite of his food and pushed the empty black tray to the side. Bracing his elbows on the counter, he leaned forward further, stretching the fabric of his T-shirt even tighter around his biceps.

I couldn’t decide if I wanted to inch closer or try to put as much distance between us as I could. Actually, I knew what I wanted to do, and it was taking all my energy to refrain from doing it.

“The fact that I don’t talk much makes you nervous?”

“Yes,” I answered automatically, and his gaze immediately shifted to my lips. Unconsciously, I licked at them and then bit the lower one between my teeth. I watched him swallow like he had to force it down, and then his eyes shifted back to mine.

Maybe I’d been wrong before. Maybe the connection flaring alive between us hadn’t all been in my head. I didn’t know if that was worse, though. If we both felt it—whatever it was—we’d both have to ignore it. Especially if he felt it as intensely as I did.

It was easier to manage if it was one-sided. It was easier to pretend it didn’t exist that way.

“Why?” he asked.

I shifted once again. “Because I don’t know what you’re thinking. Honestly, I couldn’t even guess.”

Something about my answer made him smile. But it wasn’t a normal smile, it was a grin laced with a mischievous, conspiratorial edge. It made my hair stand on end.

“Trust me, Natalie.”

I startled at my name on his lips, but he continued like he hadn’t noticed my reaction.

“You don’t want to know what I’m thinking.”

And with that, he straightened and tossed the remnants of his dinner in the trash before he rounded the island. He headed upstairs without a glance back.

When I heard his bedroom door shut, I finally took a breath and relaxed back into the barstool. But I couldn’t fully relax. I didn’t think that was possible with Theo in the house or even with the knowledge that he was living there, too.

When he wasn’t around, he still lingered.

And my heart rate refused to slow because I replayed his words over and over again.

“You don’t want to know what I’m thinking.”

Their meaning would have been ambiguous if not for the way he’d spoken them. His deep voice was earnest yet simmering with barely controlled restraint that was reflected in his eyes and the tense set of his jaw.

And it only made me want to know more. I wanted to know every single one of his thoughts, especially those he’d just been thinking. The ones he swore I didn’t.

I wanted to know if they matched mine.