Another laugh. “Very funny.” He shrugs. “I’m just happy.”
“Well cut it out, it’s weird,” I say, pinning on my name tag. “You and Pierre get it on in the back room right before I came in or something?”
He smirks. “No. Pierre is out with Toby.”
Toby is Pierre’s foster brother and his best friend. “Okay, so what is it then?”
He glances briefly over his shoulder and I follow his gaze towards a table near the back where an older gentleman is sitting, nursing a beer and scrolling through his phone. He’s got to be at least twenty years older than Tommy, with thick salt and pepper hair and a decent amount of stubble. He’s wearing a snug fitting dress shirt over his broad chest and shoulders, and has a pair of reading glasses on.
“Mmmm, I see,” I tease, and oh my God, my never smiles, never laughs, never shows any emotion ever brother, fucking blushes. I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen that before. It’s like a rare animal sighting.
“Knock it off,” he grouses as he moves around with me on his tail. “Start working.”
I ignore him. My brother and his husband like to invite an occasional third into their bedroom once in a while, but I’ve never seen him this flustered or smitten before. Usually it’s just one and done. “He must have rocked your worlds for you to be looking at him like that.”
He shrugs, but I know better. The only other person that has ever made Tommy behave like a love sick fool was Pierre. “It’s nothing serious,” he tells me. “But it was good, yes.”
I grin, because getting even that much out of my brother is a big deal. It took months for him to even admit his interest in Pierre even though our parents and I knew he was taken with the pretty French boy from the moment he saw him.
“Now, get to work,” he says again.
“Yes, sir,” I tease with a salute.
It doesn’t escape my notice that both my brother andthe handsome older man are casting glances in the other’s direction all night, until the older man heads out a couple of hours later, and Tommy blushes all over again, biting his lip when the guy winks at him.
I’m fucking exhausted when I finally clock out seven hours later and then wait for Tommy to finish closing up so he can take me home. The snow stopped falling a while ago but there’s several more inches accumulated on the ground now and I sigh as I remember that I still have to unbarricade my car.
“Who dropped you off tonight if you didn’t drive?” Tommy asks as he stops at a red light on the abandoned street. I can tell he’s wiped. He works longer hours than I do and I hope that whatever is going on with him, Pierre, and their mystery man, works out the way they want it to, because he could use someone to take care of him, pamper him, let him let go for a while. Pierre is a sweetheart, an excellent cook, amazing with animals, and super smart, but he’s definitely not low maintenance. Tommy loves him to pieces, but I think they would both benefit from having a more permanent third, rather than just a casual fuck once in a while.
“Our new neighbor, Bentley,” I tell him.
“Oh, yeah, I should probably meet him. God, I’ve just been so busy.” How am I just now noticing the circles under his eyes?
“He’s really cool. Shy, but super sweet.”
There’s a pause and I say, “You okay?”
“Yeah, of course,” he says, so fast I know it’s a lie.
“You sure? Cause you can always talk to me if you’re not. Pierre okay?”
Tommy sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “He’s been having more night terrors lately. It happens sometimes, evenwith the meds and counseling. We’ll be okay, though. I just haven’t slept much the past few days.”
We pull into the parking lot of the apartment complex and Tommy turns off the car. I blink when I realize that the mounds of snow encasing my car are gone. Not melted, just gone.
“Holy shit,” I breathe. It could have been Mom and Dad who cleared off my car but I don’t think it was.
Bentley, that golden retriever Viking. God, he’s gonna make me all gooey inside or some shit if he doesn’t stop being so fucking nice.
Chapter Six
Bentley
The following evening I’m unlocking the door to my apartment, practically dead on my feet after another long day at work, when the door above me opens and Alex’s parents come out into the upstairs hall, laughing as they make their way down the stairs.
I try to get my door unlocked before they see me because I don’t feel like interacting right now, or ever really, but I hear, “Oh, hi, you must be the new neighbor.” I turn just as they hit the bottom floor. They look like they’re dressed for a night out, him in dress pants and a button up, and her in a lovely maroon dress and heels, her hair up in a twist and her makeup immaculate. They’re both smiling at me.
“I’m Johnny,” Alex’s dad says, and I blink as I shake his outstretched hand. He's tall and broad and his grip is firm.
