Zander took a few steps to close the distance between us, then pressed a soft kiss to my lips before pulling away again. It was the first time he’d kissed me when we weren’t fucking, about to fuck, or having just finished.
“Thank you for sharing that with me.” He held up a pair of pants. “What do you think of these?”
“I think your ass would look great in them.”
“My ass looks great in everything.” He bit into his bottom lip, and damned if I didn’t want to do it for him.
“True.”
“I’m gonna try them on.”
I nodded and waited as he did. He settled on two pairs of slacks and a package of three button-up, collared shirts—white, black, and blue.
He put the bags in the truck, and then we headed over to the thrift store. We were only inside for about thirty seconds before he grabbed my wrist and tugged me with him. “Oh my God, Harrison. Look at this!” There was a spinning stand filled with bow ties. “What! These say the day of the week! Aren’t these the cutest things you’ve ever seen?”
An unexpected bubble of happiness swelled inside me. “I didn’t know you liked bow ties.”
“I didn’t know I liked bow ties either, but apparently I do. Are they cheesy? I mean, I’m teaching middle school. Are the kids going to think I’m a dork and the teachers that I’m a kid?”
“I think…people would have to be crazy to look at you and see anything other than someone full of passion, drive, and heart. Plus, you’re sexy as fuck, so that helps.”
“The last one totally isn’t the look I’m going for while teaching, but you just earned yourself a blowjob regardless. I’m easy.”
I laughed. “Get the bow ties.”
“You do realize middle schoolers can be brutal, right? And adults are even worse. Why is that, by the way? We’re so judgy.”
“Not us. Most other people get their judgmental kinks in adulthood, but we’re too good for that shit.” I plucked the package of bow ties off the rack. “Get them. Wear them. If you aren’t sure, then you don’t have to wear them again. I’m slightly offended that you get more excited by these than…” An older woman walked by us. “Well…you know.”
“No, I don’t know. Care to tell me?”
“Brat,” I teased, but he took the package from my hand and didn’t put them back, so I considered that a win.
* * *
Zander fell almost as in love with a bookcase as he did the bow ties. Like most things he seemed to gravitate toward, it was older, not modern at all, made with heavy, dark wood. I’d said it before, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever met anyone as passionate as he was. When he cared about something, enjoyed it, liked it, whatever the situation, his happiness radiated off him and he let himself go in those moments, let those feelings he kept bottled up so much of the time sneak out. I got to stand back and feel the heat of it, like the sun on my skin after a cool day.
I was older than he was, obviously. I was supposed to be more responsible, but I was already smitten with him. He made me feel young again, made me want to laugh and tease and remember every day just why it was great to be alive.
The bookcase price was a little higher than he wanted to spend, and it killed me not to offer to help, but I didn’t, and then he grinned and said, “I’m just going to do it. Tell me I’m not crazy for doing it. God, I can’t do this. What happens if…and then…but what if…”
It was cute how he couldn’t settle on a sentence. I had no idea what he was talking about, but it didn’t matter. I cupped his face in my hands, pressed his cheeks together playfully. It made his already full lips plump more. “Yes, Mr. Wescott, you can. You deserve this.”
“One could look at it that way.”
“And when rent comes around, if you’re tight…”
“Harrison.” His voice held a sharp sting to it. “Don’t ruin it.”
I held up my hands. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Should we go get your bookcase now?”
“Yes, yes we should. If I freak out later, you have to distract me.”
“With my cock?”
“By any means necessary.”
“You have yourself a deal.”
* * *
From there we were on our way to the school to drop Zander’s bookcase off. When we were in the truck and I heard his stomach growl, I glanced over and cocked a brow.
“My meds make me lose my appetite, and sometimes I forget to eat. I think it’s an ADHD side effect. It’s why I set alarms for things, like reminders for when it’s almost time to get ready for work.”
He’d told me before about his diagnosis, but I hadn’t thought much about it. Now the alarm the other day and the pill bottle I’d seen beside his bed made sense. I wasn’t going to mention it—then because it hadn’t been my business, and now because it still wasn’t and I also didn’t want to call attention to the fact that he’d again shared something with me. I didn’t think he’d noticed he’d done it. “Did you eat breakfast?”
“A banana.”
“I’ll hit up a drive-through on our way.”
“I’m too happy to even argue with you.”
“So I just have to take you shopping to make you more agreeable.”
“Nice try, but no. This is a one-time thing. Plus, when school starts, I’m gonna be so busy, I’ll probably only have time for quick bootie calls.”
Disappointment settled in my gut before I reminded myself that was what we were doing. Yes, we were friends, but the sex thing was about getting off, and it wasn’t just him wanting it that way. “Well, I’ll be available. Just call, and I’ll make sure I’m naked and waiting.”
I grabbed us a quick burger and fries. Zander was looking at his bow ties when I paid and didn’t mention it. We ate while I drove out to the school, him rambling between bites about his finds and then saying, “I’m excited for you to see my classroom. It’s not exactly how I want it. I’ll have to pick up more things here and there, but I think it’s pretty cool. I also want to build up my own book selection there for the kids. When I was young, I used to hide that I read. I was actually embarrassed about it, thought it made me nerdy. Plus, I did read a little slower than most. It was hard for me to pay attention for too long, but then it…started to help.”
“I’ll admit I don’t know a lot about ADHD, but that makes sense.”
“Concentrating is still a struggle sometimes, even with activities I enjoy. I seem to either have trouble focusing or be hyperfocused. I’m rambling today, which means I’m struggling a bit.”
“I like to hear you talk.”
Zander took a bite of his burger instead of replying. I was pretty sure it was an attempt to put space between us.
We didn’t talk much the rest of the drive out. I wondered why he hadn’t looked for an apartment in Willowbrook so it would be easier to get back and forth, but then…he was young and just out of college. Maybe he didn’t want to live alone? Maybe he wanted the comfort of a friend?
When we got to the school, Zander pointed in the direction of the door we would use. I parked out front. “Now the fun part,” I said, walking around the back of the truck.