“Life has a way of getting in the way of . . . living,” Gregg said around a sad sigh.
Throwing my arm across the back of the couch, I faced him and couldn’t help but notice how lonely he looked. “I’m your friend, Gregg. I may be younger, but that doesn’t matter, does it?”
“Not at all.”
“And since I’m your friend, can I ask about your collection of children’s books?”
He blushed and went to hide his face, but I didn’t want that.
“I’ve been working on a graphic novel since I was sixteen,” I blurted, and my words stopped his hand’s ascent. “My dream was to draw for a living and tell stories. Comics, if I could, but I would’ve been happy with anything. Photography is my second love, but none of that was good enough for my dad. So I majored in something useful for his business.”
Fuck. Tears.
This taped-off compartment was breaking open. I wasn’t ready. I had to focus on something else besides being rejected by my father for Christmas.
The hairs on his arm tickled mine. Warmth radiated off his skin, softness. It took everything in me to not reach out to touch, to not move so his skin smoothed over mine.
“My older brothers were supposed to take over the business. Not me,” I shared.
“Why can’t they?”
“Snowmobile accident.” I shuddered because my stupid, vivid memory provided me with the gory movie reel of the event.
“Jesus. I’m so sorry.”
“They love the business, know it front and back. Hell, they lived it before they got hurt. But Tony’s in a wheelchair now, and Gio fucked up his back so bad that manual labor is impossible. So now it’s up to me, the creative one. I was supposed to be the marketing guru of the business, not the brawn or the skill. But I don’t want the responsibility of a family business at all, and I feel guilty because it’s all Tony and Gio ever wanted.”
“That’s a lot to take on then.”
“Yeah. I just have to work long enough for my nephews to take over. Fifteen, twenty years, maybe.”
Gregg’s breaths grew noisy, his smile wan. “I know something about putting life on hold for other people. It’s not a fun road to be on.”
“And will Dad want to see me again?” My stupid voice broke.
“Because you’re gay?”
A deep breath. “Yep. And his stubbornness. Ellie and Sophie would love to work for him. They’ve been apprenticing under each of us brothers since they’ve been old enough to hammer a nail straight.”
“So he’s not as stuck as he thinks?”
I wiped my eyes and smiled. “Nope. El and Soph are even cool with him not changing Conti & Sons to Conti & Daughters.”
“Hmm. You look exhausted.”
I nodded. “It’s draining to think about. That’s the first time I’ve talked about it, to be honest.”
He squeezed my shoulder and then pulled me closer. A hug?
Yeah, a hug.
I melted into it and whispered against the soft cotton of his shirt, “Ellie doesn’t even know how much I dread working for Dad. He’ll never accept me. He’ll try, but he’ll always resent me. And what kind of life is that? I don’t want to move back home. I love Nutgrove. I want to stay here in this city I’ve grown into. It’s my home now, not just a place I’m passing through.”
His thumb skirted across the sensitive skin under my ear. “You’ve got time to figure this out yet, Sawyer. No decisions need to be made today.” Gregg’s voice was melodic, soothing as his touch. Then he shushed. “No more worries for tonight unless they’re halved. So share them with me.”
I gripped his love handle and moved in closer; he tightened the hug. “Thank you for everything, Gregg.”
He pushed my hair off my forehead and smiled down at me. “What are friends for?”
As I lay in bed and replayed the odd night, I didn’t know how to feel.
His touch had been tender. Sweet. Like he knew how to calm someone worked up and spiraling. Like it was second nature. And it imbued the conversation with trust. I told him about my dreams, hopes I’d told no one.
He hadn’t laughed. He didn’t tell me it was a pipe dream to crave working in a creative field. He just listened and supported, something I wasn’t sure I’d ever gotten from a man before. I could see myself with a man like him, long-term.
Friendship.
This was friendship. That’s all. And I had to purge all my desire for him.
One last time, I promised myself as I slipped my hand past my waistband and grasped my aching cock.
The following day, Gregg held the extension ladder as I hung fat, colorful lights around his roofline.
“Have you ever hung lights on the second story or the attic?” I shouted down.
“No. I’ve never hung lights outside at all.”
“Then why do you have outdoor lights?” I asked as I secured the string on the last clip I’d installed and then made my way down.
When my feet were back on the ground, Gregg’s cheeks were pink. “Good intentions?”
“Is that a question?”
Gregg laughed. “I wanted to make every holiday perfect for Paige. After Heather and I separated, Paige stayed here to finish high school. Figured if I was the perfect dad, the divorce wouldn’t be as hard of an adjustment.”
I hummed. “Not sure it works that way.”
“You’re right. Plus, me on a ladder . . . I’m not like you. Fearless.” He shuddered, but not from the cold, I suspected. “Geez! I would’ve looked down and promptly fallen off.”
I hefted the ladder, walked back toward the garage, and said, “No, you wouldn’t. But if you’re afraid of heights, the first thing I suggest is replacing that death-trap of a step ladder you have in the house. Or replace the rubber foot that’s missing at the very least.”
“That’s been on my list for some time.” Gregg followed behind me, which I didn’t mind.
“What else is on your list?”
“For today, baking cookies. I also need to finish shopping, then wrap. Tomorrow I’ll get Paige’s gift in the mail. Though, if I shop at Dwell, Edie would get everything sent out.”
I didn’t know who Edie was, so I focused on the food. “What kind of cookies?”
“Peanut butter blossoms.”
“With the Hershey’s Kiss?” I hung the ladder back in place.
“Yup.”
“Want any help?” I swore I fluttered my eyelashes. I couldn’t help but flirt, even when I woke this morning with the pure intention of developing this friendship we had. This friendship I wouldn’t risk losing.
“I’d love some. Do you like to bake?”
I shrugged. “I did when I was little. Haven’t in the last decade.”
“Well, let’s see what skills you have.”
I raised a brow. “Is that a challenge, Mr. Metzger?”
“Perhaps.” He winked and slipped into the house.
Murphy took advantage and darted toward me. “I’ll be there soon. Someone wants a walk,” I said around a chuckle.
Gregg tossed me a leash and a wave.