“Yeah, I would, too.”
It was getting late and Jess wanted to return to Brenda’s before dark. Curfew in Brenda’s neighborhood had been lifted, but depending on the route she needed to take, she wanted daylight to avoid trouble on the road.
Now her last official tie to the asshole was officially severed. She’d waited sixteen months to finally get her stuff, and now she could delete the Facebook account she’d used to spy on him.
When she returned to Brenda’s and triumphantly unloaded the bins into the garage to join the rest of her belongings, Brenda met Jess with a mug of moscato wine, a match to the one she was drinking from.
“To freedom,” Brenda said, toasting her.
Jess gently clinked mugs with her and took a deep breath. “To freedom.”
* * * *
Stanley proved to be a snuggler. Whether because he was so grateful to be safe, or because he was a genuinely friendly dog, Jess didn’t know. But she let him sleep on the bed that night—Brenda’s dogs were indoor dogs and not just allowed on the furniture but considered family—and had the best damn night of sleep she’d had in too long for her to remember.
He probably did, too. For him to go from fighting for his life to a new home in the space of hours probably messed with his poor head as much as Jessica’s current life messed with hers.
The next morning, Jess sat at the kitchen table with Brenda and tried to decide her next step. She’d already filed an insurance claim and was waiting to hear back on that.
Stanley, despite Topper and Herby’s best efforts to get him to play that morning, curled up at Jessica’s feet and appeared content to stay right there now. A soft, silent, furry shadow.
“I’d say try to expand your photography business, except that’s going to be hard right now,” Brenda said.
“Unless it’s photographing stuff for insurance claims.” Jess sipped her coffee. “I haaaaate being in stasis.” At least her nausea and other stress symptoms had finally eased. Getting the last of her shit out of Brad’s house had gone a long way to restoring her chill.
“I know, girlie. Do you have enough images you could put together another shibari book?”
“I mean, I could, I guess, but those don’t make a lot of money. And it’s not instant money, either.” Her phone rang, interrupting her.
The number came up stored in her contacts as Kel - Rigger. Ironic that they were just talking about bondage photography.
Jessica held up a finger to Brenda as she answered. “Hey, stranger. How are you doing?”
“Me? I turn on the fricking news for the first time in a couple of weeks and see Houston’s underwater again. How are you doing?”
“Eh, underwater.” She managed a laugh. “Well, not at this moment. I’m crashing at a friend’s place temporarily.” She updated him.
“What’s keeping you in Houston?” he asked when she finished.
She thought about it. “Honestly? Not much right now. Why?”
“I still have the apartment behind Venture. I’m not using it. It’s sitting there, furnished and waiting. Your butt needs to be living there.”
“Are you serious?”
“Absolutely. I won’t charge you rent the first month or two, either. If you’re still trying to find a job at the end of two months, we’ll talk then. I’ll write up a lease and everything. Then you don’t have to buy furniture right now. I’m sure Mom would love to see you again. She’s asked about you.”
She sat back in the kitchen chair, tears pricking her eyes. “I have a dog now.”
“That’s fine. Just make sure he doesn’t have fleas. If he destroys anything, replace or fix it. Time for you to get your butt back to Florida.”
“You…you’re really serious?”
“Yeah. I know the Collins brothers always need good part-time help with their cleaning business. That’s a start until you can find something better. I’ll work with you on the rent. We’ve all missed you around here.”
She mentally ran through her bank account, which was fatter than normal only because the storm had hit before the first of the month, and she damn sure wasn’t paying for next month’s rent on a mobile home she couldn’t live in. Her landlord had already told her not to worry about it and was working on getting her security deposit back to her. But his own house was underwater, and she was willing to give him a few days to get the money to her since his own checkbook was likely waterlogged.
He’d always been a good landlord, had taken care of repairs promptly and never screwed her over. He told her he’d get a cashier’s check, if he had to, and meet her somewhere to give it to her.
“I guess I’d need to rent a U-Haul.”
“Then get it done, girl. Eh, sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
She laughed. “Dude, you’re family. You’re one of the few people in the lifestyle I will let call me that if I’m not dating them.”
“That’s a yes?”
She sighed, knowing she couldn’t say no to him. “Yes.”
“Then keep me posted on your timeframe. Even if it’s the middle of the night, I’ll meet you over there with the key and let you in. I’ll get some people to help you unload, and you can stay there as long as you need to.”
Feeling emotional and overwhelmed and grateful, she sniffled back tears. “Okay. Thank you. It’ll be several days, most likely, before I can leave.”
“It’ll be waiting for you. Make sure to jump into the Suncoast Society munch group on Fet and let everyone know you’re coming back.”
“I will. Thanks.”
When she ended the call, she stared at her phone for a moment. Brenda and Jim were in the lifestyle, so it wasn’t like she had to hide the details.
“I take it that was a good call?” Brenda asked.
“Um…yeah.” She relayed what Kel had said. “So…I guess that answers that question.”
“Sure does. He single?” She smiled.
“No. And besides, nothing against the guy, but we went to high school together. His mom and dad kind of adopted me when they found out what a train wreck my family was. He’s more like a brother than a friend, so…ick.”
* * * *
Today’s big chore was laundry. Towels and clothes. Depending on when she could get in to her place and see what was salvageable, that might be all she’d get of her clothes. She’d grabbed seasonal stuff, and if she was returning to Florida there were things she’d left behind that she wouldn’t need anyway, but leaving stuff behind chafed her. It’d been things she’d paid money for. Her own money.
She’d spent her adult life trying to make it on her own. Something deep inside her had always suspected Brad might not be for life, but she’d thought she loved him enough, that it was good enough for now. He’d been handsome and charming, in the beginning. Said all the right things, did all the right things.
Made her forget how shitty her childhood had been. They’d had fun together…at first.
The cheating had hurt. Especially after Brad had made such a big deal about loving her and her looks when they first got together.
And he was ten years older than her.
Yeah, she had daddy issues. She’d own it. The “helpful” comments her rat bastard of a father had made when she was in high school, about how maybe she’d have a boyfriend if she didn’t have a second piece of fried chicken, or tried harder to lose weight.
It’d taken watching him walk out on her mom and take up with a younger woman for her to finally quit giving him rent-free space in her head.
Not that her mother was much better, because she’d been the child of alcoholics and too willing to let shit slide that she should have called him out on. Not to mention the passive-aggressive survival tactics she’d developed during her own dysfunctional childhood had been wielded with soul-crushing lethality on her only child.
Still, before Brad, Jess had been standing on her own, paying her own way, working not only a full-time day job, but building her fetish photography portfolio.
Especially shibari.
Hence why she and Brad had gotten along so well.
At first.
An insurance adjuster called her back around noon, and Jess spent the better part of an hour on the phone with him. She’d taken pictures of everything during the evacuation process, and was honest with him that the expensive stuff she’d saved. She didn’t want to rip off the company, she just wanted to be fairly compensated for what she’d paid for.
Because of the remaining flood waters, they were waiving inspections and trying to expedite the claims they could, like hers.
He offered her a settlement amount that was more than generous, based on what she knew she’d salvaged, and the deal was done. If she’d wanted to contest it and get more, it’d have to wait to be settled until an adjuster could go see the place.
She wasn’t greedy or stupid.
She’d have a direct deposit in two to five days.
Just like that, putting a period on the end of her sentence in Houston.
She’d been sitting at the kitchen table and taking notes, Brenda silently watching. When Jess got off the call, she sat there, staring at her notes before they blurred.
Brenda rose, rounded the table, and stood behind her, hugging Jess as she cried.
Chapter Five
Tristan finished solving the algebra equation on the whiteboard and turned to his class of tenth graders. “Any questions?”
Two hands shot up, but the bell rang, and everyone started to rise.
“Homework is pages 52 and 53, all the equations, due tomorrow. Show your work.” Various groans and complaints met that, but the students filed out.
He had one more period today before he could escape home. Kyle had texted him earlier that his day wasn’t nearly as crappy as yesterday, and that he’d be home early enough to cook them dinner tonight.
Kyle had already been out the door that morning before Tris had even crawled out of bed.
At least a fresh pot of coffee had greeted Tristan in the kitchen when he’d made his way out there. Kyle didn’t have to get up that early every morning, but when he did, he always made sure there was coffee for Tris.
We’re kind of like a married couple already.
He shoved away the melancholy feeling that thought triggered.
It was too easy for his imagination to quickly spin down that road without any effort at all. Of him and Kyle, actually a couple.
That was really what he wanted. It was only a matter of becoming brave enough to pursue it.
Which meant opening his yap and telling Kyle how he felt about him.
It also meant keeping Marilyn out of Kyle’s face long enough to talk to him. He’d swear she still thought she was Kyle’s girlfriend, as often as she showed up. Frequently unannounced. Yes, most of the time her excuse was Dillon, but a lot of the time he watched her when she didn’t know he was and he saw the expression on her face when she looked at Kyle.
For a woman who had a boyfriend, she damn sure didn’t seem to remember that little factoid when she was around Kyle.
He also swore to himself he wouldn’t hassle Kyle about going to help her last night. The man was a grown-ass adult. And it wasn’t like he had a claim on the man.
Yet.
Ooooh, but he wanted to. Damn, did he want to. He still wasn’t sure how something like that would shake out between the two of them, being they were both Doms, but he was willing to find out.
The two kids, a boy and a girl, who’d had questions paused at his desk and, fortunately, they basically had the same question. He clarified for them and got them sent on their way before the next period students started filtering in.
He erased the whiteboard to start over with this class. He just wanted the day to be done. Last night, after Kyle had headed out to help Marilyn, Tristan had taken a long hot shower, thinking about Kyle the whole time and angry-fucking his own fist to get off. He’d hoped they would spend the evening chilling, maybe talking, especially after a nice dinner.
And then Marilyn’s phone call.
Fucking Marilyn.
He was really beginning to resent her. Which he knew was a dick move, because Dillon was a great kid. Wasn’t the kid’s fault he had a douche for a bio father who had no desire to be a father. And he honestly didn’t mind having Dillon over. The kid was wicked smart and already showed a great propensity for math. Tristan had no problem helping him with his homework, or tossing a football around in the backyard, or having him over to watch a movie and eat dinner with them while Marilyn and her useless boyfriend went out and did whatever.
By the time he could escape to the sanctuary of his SUV after the day ended, he felt exhausted, mostly because his job wrangling high-schoolers all day was exhausting.
Then there was the emotional wrangling he’d been attempting all day, to reel in his feelings about Kyle, and stewing over Marilyn sniping Kyle from him last night.
I need to talk to him. Sooner rather than later.
Hopefully, he wasn’t going to fuck himself over in the process.
* * * *
Kyle stood in the shower and let the water sluice over him. Thankfully, work today wasn’t nearly as crazy as yesterday, and he’d been able to get out a little early to make up for it.
He still felt vaguely guilty over bailing on Tris last night after the man had gone through the effort of making such a fantastic dinner.
A slowly thickening mist hung over the two of them. A growing, unmistakable sexual attraction, definitely. They had the friendship part nailed down.
Right?
Maybe it was time to nut up and say something. He wasn’t sure what or where he wanted or needed things to go with Tristan beyond not blowing up their friendship.
Long-term, he didn’t want to lose Tris.
There’s my answer, isn’t it?
It was just…he’d never been with a guy before. Yes, he considered himself bi. Fantasies aside, he’d never met a guy in real life he’d felt like taking that next step with. He knew Tris was interested, because a couple of weeks ago, Kyle had sort of worked up the nerve one Friday night after they’d both had a couple of beers, and brought the subject up indirectly. Along with some flirting.
For someone who claims to be a Dom, I’m being a fucking pussy about this.
He planned to make Tristan baked ziti for dinner. It was Tristan’s favorite dish that Kyle cooked, and he’d stopped by the store on his way home to get what he needed.
He’d wanted to return the favor for the delicious meal last night, and offer a sort of apology for bailing. Not that they’d had plans, but…
Damn.
His eyes snapped open.
Because I’d wanted to spend the evening chilling with him.
He resisted the urge to rub one out in the shower and got his ass in gear. He wanted to have the kitchen cleaned up before Tristan got home, so all that they’d have to wash after dinner were the plates they ate on and the actual pan the ziti cooked in.
And the salad bowl.
Not the only salad I’d mind tossing tonight.
Yeah, okay, he got it. He was an idiot. They were grown-ass adults, and he needed to put a cork in his fear. Instead of thinking about all the ways things could go wrong, he needed to think about why it was worth taking a chance on.
Tris was worth taking a chance on. It wasn’t like the guy would stay single forever.
He had the dish ready to put into the oven and the rest of the dishes cleaned up when Tristan walked through the front door just before the skies let loose with an afternoon storm.
“Fucking rainy season,” Tris muttered as he walked into the kitchen. “Oooh! Is that a dish of baked ziti I see?”
“Soon-to-be-baked.”
“Mmm.” He set his laptop bag on the counter and emptied his lunch cooler into the sink to clean up. “What’s the special occasion?”
Kyle took a deep breath. “To make up for bailing on you last night.”
He watched the other man’s brown eyes,
waiting for a sign.
Tris paused at the sink but didn’t look his way. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Kyle crossed the kitchen to stand next to him, leaning with his back against the counter. “You made a great dinner, and I had to run out on you.” He kept an eye on his friend with his peripheral vision.
Tris still hadn’t moved. It seemed to take him longer than usual to respond. “Well, you can’t leave her stranded. Especially with Dillon. I don’t blame you.”
Kyle propped his hands on the counter’s edge, to either side of him, spreading wide, into Tristan’s space. He slowly turned his head to stare at the side of Tristan’s head and found the man staring down at Kyle’s hand.
“I appreciate that,” Kyle quietly said, “but I had planned on spending the evening with you. I’d really looked forward to it.”
His heart stampeded in his chest and he prayed he hadn’t just fucked up.
Tris slowly laid his hand over Kyle’s, lightly touching. “If we’re being totally honest, so had I.”
Kyle felt like he was dying inside, terrified to move, to break this spell. “Tell me where we go from here.”
Tristan’s head slowly swiveled, so that his brown gaze locked onto Kyle’s. Right now, Tristan’s eyes looked smoky, dark.
Hungry.
“You’re not still sleeping with her, right?” Tristan’s voice had also dropped, matching Kyle’s, as if afraid to ask it too loudly.
“Nope. Not since before I broke up with her.”
Tristan slowly nodded. “Not saying I’d hate the possibility of a third one day, a woman, but definitely not her. Hard limit. Your choice is me, or Marilyn. You can be friends with her, but no more than that. Not going through that again, watching you eaten up over her.”
“Ditto.”
Tristan’s hand tightened over Kyle’s. “I wouldn’t hate company in the shower.”
Kyle leaned in, but not quite close enough to kiss Tristan. Tristan had three inches on his own six feet, and the other man leaned in the rest of the way to close the distance and kiss Kyle.