Most likely because …yep, there’s Stacey right on cue. I catch sight of him through the window of the double-swinging kitchen door, headed this way.
“Heya, Dirky. Sorry, I’m late. Stacey and I stopped for coffee on the way here, and we sorta took advantage of the fact that I’m the boss’s son.” He winks.
These two are clearly attached at the hip. They must be dating, right? Only, no, they’re fucking not. Dash is seeing someone else casually, and Stacey, well, I don’t really know much about Stacey’s current love life, but I guarantee it’s fucked up.
But—cue heavy sigh—I’m a fucking hypocrite for judging them. I’m doing the same thing with Trav, living in hell, toochickenshit to do anything about our predicament, too scared to think it’s a good idea.
I tried to date someone last season, hoping it would help me get over Trav, because Trav and I are never, ever,evergoing to happen. Date is a loose adjective to describe what it was we did. I never kissed him, gave off like I hated being touched. And sex? Hell no. Wasn’t interested. But he was nice, and we had fun when we went out. I talked it up to my friends, trying to convince myself I was into the guy, so when I gave up and ended things, the guys mistook my blue mood crash out for devastation over the breakup. But “dating” that guy made it that much more glaringly obvious that no one will be Travis, and it fucking sucked. I was angry. At the world, at love, at whatever it is that made me fall for Trav. I poured my aggression into hockey until it was all used up. But I decided no more. There is no getting over Trav, it’s not worth putting me and someone else through that.
It'll just be me and my hand for the foreseeable future. Maybe I should visit that sex shop Trav and I talked about?
Stace barges through the door, carrying a box of wine glasses destined for the dish pit.
Honestly? I wish they’d have been even later. I’m so fucking horny—was so fucking horny—that I’d been daydreaming about what it would be like to slip into Trav’s office and see where things went. I mean, he was the one looking at me in that way, with all that hunger. If I mistook it for an invitation, can I really be blamed for that?
“Hey, Dirk.” Stacey puts an arm around Dash, and Dash leans in like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Anger rises. Irrational fucking anger. I love them, but they’re dumbasses. The dumbest dumbasses to ever dumbass. Do I look like them with Trav? No. How could I? I’m not allowed to touch him in public or stare at him for too long. They’re so fuckinglucky. They take for granted the ease with which they can lay their hands on each other, cuddle on the couch every damn night, and generally live in each other’s pockets.
But can they get their shit together? Nope.
“We brought you and Trav coffee. It’s on the pass bar.” My eyes pan to the stainless-steel shelf in front of the grills, where food is passed off from the kitchen staff to the expo. Two coffees sit there. “Where is he?”
I drop the steaks on the counter, forming a probably stupid idea. But I can’t stand it for another minute, and it’s their fault.
“Office. I’ll give that to him.” I brought him coffee earlier, but bringing him a second one screams “I just wanted to see you”. I don’t know if I can do this odd-ass purgatory for the rest of my life, so maybe it’s time I … I dunno. Something.
Dash and Stacey, though. Those two just might be destined for purgatory.
Dash darts in front of me as if the universe is pushing the whole “you snooze, you lose” narrative. “I’ll do it! I wanna say hi to Dad before we get started.”
There’s nothing I can do but stare after him, coffee in hand, taking my place in the Travis coffee-delivery chain. Is it weird that I’m jealous? He gets to visit Trav whenever he wants. Stacey’s staring after him, too, but for different reasons. As much as I judge them for their dumbassery, his Dash obsession is gonna be as good for me this summer as Casey and Sutter’s obsession with each other.
Chapter
Two
Travis
Irub my hand over my face, hoping it’ll restart my life. Only trouble is, where do you restart a life as jaded and as fucked up as mine? You might say when I joined a biker gang and knocked up my then-girlfriend at the ripe age of twenty. But then I wouldn’t have Dash, and Dash is the one thing from my life I’d never let anything take away. Even my past.
Nope. I’m stuck here. Stuck being a burned out has been. Stuck with the regret of letting Dash’s mom push me out of his life for as long as she did.
Stuck with my obsession over a man half my age who just so happens to be my son’s best friend.
Fuck me.
All I’ve got keeping me on this side of hell is the fact that I’ve never let my carnal desires take over. But it’s a fine fucking line, and the distance closes every day. It hasn’t stopped me from hanging out with him, alone, well past closing. Or looking my fill of him every chance I get.
It hasn’t stopped me from imagining him when I’ve got my cock in my hand, alone in my bed, in the dead of the night.
God. I’m a dirty old man, and it’s getting worse.
Dirk’s older now, but still too young for me. If only these feelings would just go away.
Maybe if we fucked—just once—they would?
Noooo. Bad idea. That would change everything between us. Even if we never fucked again—which is highly unlikely—I’d never stop thinking about it. I’d also have to tell Dash what I’d done, and it doesn’t seem worth it for one time.
