It was after dawn when he rolled away from me and I was able to sneak out of bed. I wanted to be able to give him more than just my ass or my cock.
So I made coffee, then breakfast. Why I thought using his food was something nice, I didn’t know.
When I carried a plate into his room, he was just starting to sit up.
“What’s that?” he asked, leaning against the headboard.
“I made you breakfast.”
“Where’s yours?”
I shrugged. “I cooked for you.” Because you’re my friend, and you do nice things for me, and I don’t know how to thank you, so hey, I’ll cook two meals in a row for you.
Harrison patted the bed beside him. “You can share with me.”
“That defeats the purpose of it being something nice for you.”
“Being able to do things for you also feels like nice things for me.”
Ugh. That was the sweetest. The thing was, I knew it was authentic. He wasn’t just blowing smoke up my ass. Harrison was being real.
I walked over and handed it to him. “Let me go get your coffee first.”
“Damn, I must have done something right last night.”
He’d done a lot of things right.
I turned, went to the kitchen, and grabbed his drink before joining him in the bed. Harrison hadn’t taken a bite yet, his scrambled eggs, sausage, and potatoes just the way I’d left them.
He scooped some into his mouth, then handed me the fork. “You look tired. Did you have trouble sleeping?”
“A bit. I don’t usually spend the night.”
“I could have taken you home.”
“I know, but Ross’s place was going to be full of people, and I wasn’t in the mood for that.”
“Your place.”
“What?”
“You always call it Ross’s. It’s your home too, Zander. You pay rent there.”
I shrugged because it really wasn’t important.
“Zander…”
“Harrison…” Then, surprising myself, I blurted out, “I decided I want to borrow a car,” then stuffed a forkful of hash browns into my mouth. I’d been looking for a way to say it, and now I’d word-vomited it at him to keep him from talking to me about the condo, before pigging out in front of him. Nice. “I mean, if mine isn’t fixable or costs more than it’s worth,” I added when he just sat there staring at me without replying. What the fuck was wrong with me? I’d decided to open up to him, to prove I trusted him by letting him lend me a car? Now that I’d spoken the words, it felt like the most ridiculous thing in the world. Like I was selfish, using this man the way my father used people. “Why are you looking at me like that? It’s okay if you changed your mind.”
“I didn’t change my mind. I’m just shocked. You’re much more agreeable after fucking in my bed.”
“Sometimes you’re like a forty-one-year-old teenager.”
He shrugged. “It makes me endearing.”
He was right.
“We can go get it today.”
“Slow your roll, do-gooder. We need to hear from the shop first. And I’m paying you. I’m going to do what you said and figure out my finances. We’ll have a contract or something and—”
“Blah, blah, blah.” He plucked the fork from my hand, filled it with eggs, and pressed it against my lips until I opened them and took the bite.
“This is supposed to be your breakfast.”
“Then shut up so I don’t have to shut you up.”
I rolled my eyes, but it was difficult to hold back my smile.
We shared the food and the coffee. We showered together afterward, me dropping to my knees as the water rained down on him, sucking Harrison until he came down my throat.
About an hour later the mechanic called, and my car was, in fact, fucked with a capital F. Harrison wrapped his arms around me from behind. I fought myself from leaning back against him, from letting him hold me up. “Okay, thank you.”
“Are you coming by to pick it up?” the man asked. Fuck, I hadn’t even thought of that.
I turned my head to look at Harrison, who answered my silent question. “I don’t need it for anything.”
“Um…do you keep them for parts or anything like that?”
He answered that he’d keep it and could actually give me a little bit of money for it. Once that was settled, we disconnected the call. Harrison’s mouth pressed to my neck. “I know it’s easier said than done, but try not to worry. We’ll figure it out.”
“I’m fine.” But I wasn’t. I fucking hated this, hated being needy, not being able to take care of myself. It made me feel weak. Even though my goal was to pay off my credit cards, I’d just use them to pay bills or to pay Harrison if I had to, because I wasn’t taking his vehicle for free.
“Do you work today?” Harrison asked.
“Yeah, at three.”
“We should go get the car sorted out, then.”
I nodded, then went into his room to change from the shorts I’d put on after the shower to my clothes from the day before, Harrison having tossed them into the dryer that morning.
We were in his car, driving to the dealership, when I made my best attempt to pull my head out of my ass. I was lucky. Not everyone had a friend like Harrison. “I didn’t tell you what happened at school yesterday, did I?”
“Nope.”
I told him about the students’ questions—if I was married or gay—and then what Cameron had said when he came into my room, the stories about me and such.
“He’s right,” Harrison said. “You should be able to acknowledge a significant other when you have one. You’re gorgeous and could one hundred percent be a model. Also, he wants to bone you.”
“You made fun of me for saying it like that, and oh my God. No, he doesn’t. He’s just being nice. We’re both queer teachers, so he’s trying to be welcoming.”
He turned and glanced at me. “You really believe that, don’t you? Jesus, Zander. How are you blind to how irresistible you are?”
“Hey, I’m not blind to that! I can acknowledge I’m easy on the eyes.” I wasn’t sure I agreed about the model thing, but I didn’t want to argue with him. “That doesn’t mean he wants to sleep with me.”
“No, it doesn’t, but…you’re more than a pretty face. You don’t see that, but I do, and so does Cameron. I bet he’s asked you out.”
“As friends!”
He laughed. Hard.
“Fuck off,” I replied, my ears hot. Was he right? Was Cameron interested in me? Why hadn’t I considered that before?
We were quiet for a moment before Harrison asked, “Are you interested in him?”
“What? No. We’re just friends.”
“You and I are friends too.”
His words nearly sucked the air out of me, but I didn’t know why. Because we were sleeping together? Harrison and I might not be serious, but we felt like more than what Cameron and I were. Harrison was…different, not like Cameron at all.
“I understand if you are,” he continued. “The two of you clearly have things in common, you’re close in age, he’s—”