“What the fuck.” Ty gestured around them. “Hello. When’s the last time I cut the grass? Never. When’s the last time I did all the dishes? I don’t remember. Let’s not even talk about folding laundry, okay, because I never remember to do that and somehow it all gets put away.”
“I need to make money, Ty.”
“Literally why?” Ty was on the verge of pulling his hair out. “You could stay home and make macaroni art for the rest of your life, and unless you developed a taste for gold-plated pasta, we’d be fine.”
He knew as soon as the words came out that it was the wrong thing to say. First, he’d gone and revealed far more than he intended. They’d been dating for less than an entire weekend, and here was Ty casually dropping ajust let me support you for the rest of your life. That was desperate even for him.
And second, it sounded like he thought macaroni art was all Ollie would be good for.
Ollie knocked back the rest of his beer, slammed it on the breakfast bar, and stood up. “I am not going to be a freeloader just so you can—move us all to Chicago or whatever. Theo is my kid. He’s mine to take care of.”
Ty reeled back, stung. “Maybe you should fucking do that, then,” he snarled. He put his half-empty beer in the sink. The last thing he needed right now was alcohol. He was going to go—somewhere. His room. Ollie wouldn’t bother him there. “Your mom sends her love, by the way,” he added, because if Ollie wanted to be a petty bitch, then Ty would match his energy.
Then, seething, he stormed out of the kitchen.
It wasn’t until his bedroom door closed behind him that he let himself wonder if he’d just fucked up the best thing that ever happened to him.
OLLIE KNEWhe was being an asshole. He knew exactly where the conversation was going to end up when Ty walked in the door, and he steered toward the cliff and put his foot on the gas like he was in a demented version ofThelma and Louise.
All day he’d been itching for a fight. Well, now he’d had one, and he didn’t feel any better.
He dumped the rest of Ty’s beer and rinsed out both bottles, then took them outside to the recycling bin.
The recycling bin that was full of the little yogurt cups Theo liked, because Ty always bought those ones even though they were more expensive than the other kind, and Ty’s smoothie bottles, and the folded-up boxes from Ollie’s granola.
In case Ollie didn’t already feel like a dick, here was a visual representation of what could have been his family in the trash.
Was there anything in his life hehadn’tfucked up? Because of his choices, his parents might be getting divorced. He’d lost his job. If he’d managed to push Ty away from him for good, Theo would never forgive him. As a bonus, they’d probably have to move—not because Ty would kick them out, but because staying would be so awkward Ollie would never be able to sleep again.
If he were any kind of decent person, he’d apologize right now and do his best to fix the things he broke. But he wasn’t the only one who needed to make amends. Ty’s macaroni art comment was going to sting for a while.
That had hit a little too close to home.
If the only way Ollie left his mark on this world was through his kid, would that be enough? Itshouldbe enough. He could never tell Theo otherwise. But he didn’t think it was wrong to want more either.
Did that make him a bad person?
No, that wasn’t what made him a bad person. The way he’d reacted to a kind, sincere,generousoffer, no matter how poorly worded…thatmade him an asshole.
Ollie had made peace with being queer. It had strained his relationship with his parents, but he could live with that. He accepted his PTSD and the past he couldn’t change as part of himself, and he’d had plenty of time in therapy while Theo was recovering from cancer to sort out his shit. He might never bedone, and it might never be easy, but he could live with that too.
And the whole time he’d been in therapy, the whole time he’d been focused on being there for Theo until he was better, he didn’t work and he didn’t worry about it. He stayed in Allison’s apartment, set aside Theo’s Social Security checks, and focused on getting himself into mental shape to be a full-time parent.
He had a security net. He had a nice place to live. It had been weeks since anyone insinuated he couldn’t take care of his kid, unless he counted himself in his argument with Ty just now.
He’d called himself a freeloader. But the term he really wanted to use waskept man. He felt emasculated. And that made him feel sick to his stomach, because heknew better. Having a job was notmanly. Having this particular job had been a lot of things—tedious, ridiculous—butmanlyhad not been one of them.
He didn’t feel emasculated because he didn’t have a job. He felt that way because another man had offered to support him. And that was… not great.
Fuck, Ollie had a headache. He should eat something and figure out when Theo would be home—ifTheo would be home.
Which would mean talking to either his mother, his sister, or Ty.
He’d resigned himself to picking up his phone and braving a conversation with his mom—she didn’t have to know he and Ty had a fight—when there was a crash of breaking glass from somewhere in the house.
Ollie forgot all about his phone as the adrenaline hit his system. “Ty!”
He bolted toward the bedrooms in time to see Ty emerge, looking as startled as Ollie felt. His eyes were wide and his skin blotchy and red.
