Page 25

AMEDEO: EIGHT MONTHS LATER

I was expecting the apartment to be worse than it was, but it was obvious my sister had been keeping it up for me once Bryce got tired of waiting around. I owed her a lot. Eight months of rent, to be exact, and several muffin baskets for keeping this from devolving into a hot mess.

I was grateful that Bryce had been blowing smoke up my ass about actually being in Massachusetts, and I was grateful he wasn’t at the apartment right then.

I’d all but forgotten about him in the time I’d been with Tucker, which was nice, but reality was threatening to crash down on top of me now.

“Wow, babe. This is, uh,” Tucker said.

“It’s a hole. I know,” I told him. But that’s what my salary got me in SoCal. A garbage apartment sorely in need of a remodel, smack-dab in the middle of La Mesa. It was within walking distance of my favorite taco shops and not too far from the beach—not that I was a beach kind of guy.

But other than that, yeah.

It wasn’t great.

“Hey, I’ve seen worse,” came another voice. Jonah was on Ford’s arm, smiling as he turned his head from left to right.

“Shut the fuck up,” Tucker said, smacking his friend on the arm.

Jonah burst into laughter. “Fine. It doesn’t smell like a dirty jockstrap, so that’s something, isn’t it?”

He was right, I supposed. Letting Tucker’s arm go, I began to walk around, cataloguing what was missing. As I predicted, all my faux-expensive dishes, most of my towels, all the grooming products I’d left behind, and my favorite dildo were missing.

The thought that he’d taken that was creepy as fuck, but it wasn’t like I was going to take it with us. Tucker had plenty of fun things to play with—several I’d picked out myself. I’d never been more satisfied both emotionally and physically before.

I had him. I had a new job. A new apartment, though I stayed over at Tucker and Boden’s often enough I was going to start offering rent. But my life was different.

It was good. Not perfect, but what was?

“So. What are we keeping?” Tucker asked, wrapping his arm around my waist as he leaned on his walking cane.

“Honestly, just a couple of boxes from the top of my closet and whatever’s in my safe.” I knew Bryce wouldn’t have bothered to go in there. He’d seen it before, and he had no interest in my passport and old birthday cards that Alessia had made me over the years.

“Okay, so should we?—”

“Wait.” The sound of that voice had me freezing mid-step. “Is this…oh babe . You’re joking, right?”

Why did I think the universe wouldn’t want to have fun with me? I spun around and saw Bryce standing in the doorway. He was wearing his tightest jeans and a Henley, his arms folded over his chest. It was obvious he’d been trying to look good, but eight months of not seeing his face and my perspective had changed.

When had he gotten so haggard? He had bags under his eyes, and his hair looked like it was thinning. Or was it always like that and I just hadn’t noticed?

The sight of him didn’t fill me with terror any longer. I appreciated when Tucker stepped up next to me, but it was a relief to know I didn’t need him to.

“ This is your entourage? The men I needed to be quaking in my boots over?” He flicked his gaze to Jonah first—who wasn’t wearing his prosthetic eyes—and then to Tucker. “A legless dude and a fucking blind guy?”

Jonah snorted. “Does he look like the chode I think he does?”

Tucker laughed. “Worse. He’s short.”

Jonah burst into laughter as Bryce squared his shoulders, trying to give himself another inch. “Sweet.”

Bryce took a step forward, but the look on Tucker’s face stopped him. “When are you going to be done playing games, Amedeo? This is fucking ridiculous, baby?—”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” I told him tiredly.

He went on like I hadn’t spoken. “The only thing you have to do is kneel down and kiss my feet a few times. All can be forgiven, and we can get back to normal. You don’t need to bring these fucking…what do they call them? Special needs? Differently abled?”

“Fuck off,” I snapped.

“I’m trying to be nice here. A little groveling won’t hurt.”

I blinked at him. Had he seriously convinced himself that I would want anything to do with him ever again?

Before I could say that, Tucker leaned in. “Please can I punch him, sweetheart?”

Like I was going to say no. I wasn’t really a man who condoned violence, but if anyone deserved it, it was Bryce. “Go wild, my love.”

“My love?” Bryce said with a high-pitched laugh.

“I’ll hold him for you. Point me,” Jonah said.

As if summoned, Ford appeared behind Bryce and made a clicking noise with his tongue. Jonah gave a smile that would rival Satan’s, and then he launched forward. His hockey reflexes and his big-ass biceps worked for him because he had Bryce in a hold with his arms locked behind his back before anyone could so much as take a breath.

“Woop! Got ’em!”

Tucker cracked his knuckles, then walked up and took Bryce by the chin. Bryce’s eyes narrowed, and then he spit. The glob narrowly missed Tucker, who looked ready to do a murder right there.

I said a prayer because I knew words wouldn’t stop him now.

“You deserve more than this. Jonah, he was really comfortable talking about my husband being on his knees. I think he should be there.”

Jonah squeezed something, and Bryce’s knees buckled. Tucker grinned, and my dick got a little bit hard. God, was hockey violence really starting to warp me?

Grinning down at him, Tucker tapped a finger on his lips. “Eye or mouth.”

“What? Fuck you, dude, I?—”

“Mouth it is.” Then Tucker swung. No preamble, no winding up. His fist made a loud smack against Bryce’s lips, and then I saw him spit blood.

“I’m going to call the fucking cops,” Bryce gasped as Jonah let him go.

Tucker grinned. “You do that. I’m sure they’d like to know why you’re harassing your ex and his differently abled , special needs , legless, blind friends.” Tucker started to limp back toward me, and Jonah walked away, his hands in front of him, groping around. “I’m sure they’ll believe we attacked first.”

Ford grinned. “And I’m sure the internet would be interested in everything you said to your ex. Want to repeat it one more time? You know, for posterity?” He produced his phone, and Bryce paled, swiping his hand over his lips before turning his gaze toward me.

“Fuck you, Deo. If I ever see you again—” He stopped at Tucker’s glare.

Tucker laughed. “Finish your sentence. I fucking dare you.”

Bryce stared, then turned and tried to pretend like he wasn’t speed-walking away. A moment later, we could hear him pick up his pace to a run, almost tumbling as he hit the stair landing.

Jonah snorted, and that set off a chain reaction of giggles that made my stomach ache. Tucker wrapped around me again, kissing me as my laughter started to die down.

“How do you feel now?”

I took a breath, then shrugged. “The same. Wildly in love. Happy. Satisfied.”

He grabbed my ass and tugged my crotch into his, his brows flying up when he realized I was hard. “Ooh. You are happy.”

“You have a private hotel room. Save it, you horny little fuckers,” Ford said.

Tucker laughed again, then tipped my chin up so I could look him in the face. Reaching for his hand, I kissed the knuckles that had probably loosened a tooth or two out of Bryce’s mouth.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you,” he said, then leaned in for a kiss. As his tongue met mine, my heart swelled in my chest.

There was so much more life to life, and with him, I knew it was going to be good.

Former husband, current boyfriend, and my happily ever after.

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