Leaning Into Series: The Complete Box Set

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Leaning Into Series: The Complete Box Set Page 92

by Hayes, Lane

“Are you unraveling again?”

  “Again?”

  “Yes. You make rash decisions when you feel backed into a corner.” He scoffed at my confused expression. “Oh, please. You dragged me into the stairwell at your office when it would have been a million times easier to introduce me as Eric’s secretary. Then you called me in a panic when you heard he’d asked if your company still handled leases instead of passing me off to someone else in your office. And now you want me to move in with you. It’s…”

  “Weird?” I supplied, making a comical face.

  “You said it, not me.”

  I stuffed my hand in my pockets and looked away for a moment. “Yeah, well…I’m a mess too, Miles.”

  I added a splash of levity to my delivery, but he didn’t catch it or maybe he saw through me. Either way, I felt foolish. He might have been wearing dress-up accessories for a preschooler, but I was the one who looked like an idiot. I gave him a tepid smile, proud of myself for not flinching under his sharp scrutiny. After what felt like a small eternity, he inclined his head and stepped toward me until we stood a foot apart.

  “We’re kindred spirits, aren’t we? Equally messy in very different ways.” He clapped decisively then set his hands on his hips. “Okay. I’ll take you on.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. I’ll be your gay Mary Poppins with a twist. I’ll move in, be your beard slash booty call, and do my best to help you through whatever internal crisis you’re going through while I look for other accommodations…on my own. I’ll be your therapist, and you can be mine. We’ll have to work out rent. I won’t stay free of charge. That’s a recipe for disaster. Actually, this whole experiment could be, so we should set a time limit.”

  “Let’s start with a month,” I interjected to stop him before he steamrolled me. I wasn’t entirely sure if he was joking or what the hell his Mary Poppins reference meant. But I liked the idea of him being around for a month. Or more.

  Miles cocked his head thoughtfully and gave me a puzzled look I couldn’t quite read. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. I am.”

  “Grant. You can spin this ten different ways, but your friends and family are still going to wonder what someone like you is doing with someone like me.”

  “I don’t care how it looks. It’s not forever and…I’m not sure what you mean by ‘someone like you.’ Just”—I let out a rush of air and shrugged—“think about it. The offer stands.”

  “Okay. Thank you. It’s a very generous offer. I’ll give it some thought and let you know,” he replied in a professional tone. “And you won’t have any problems with my cats or my aquarium, right?”

  “Uh…”

  “Britney and Christina are angels. They won’t be any trouble. I found a rainbow scratching post that would look fabulous in the window, and the fish would love the view from that wall.” He gestured toward the expensive modern painting on the wall space opposite the kitchen. “That will have to go.”

  “Go? I—it can’t…I’m allergic and…I—”

  Miles flashed a brilliant smile then hooted with laughter, smacking his hand on his knee as he cackled merrily at my expense. I let my gaze travel from his trim waist to his pretty feet while he pulled himself together with a hiccup. Fuck, he was sexy and funny and silly and…I liked him more than I should.

  He dabbed moisture from the corners of his eyes and grinned. “I was playing with you, Ding Dong. No cats, no fish. Just me. I’ll get back to you by Monday, okay?”

  “Yeah. You’re hilarious, by the way,” I huffed.

  “You gotta keep yourself entertained in this life.” He chuckled, moving back to grab his tote bag. “Do you mind if I change here? I’m supposed to meet some friends tonight. We’re having dinner then heading to a drag bar. Want to come?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Are you sure? It should be a good show.”

  “I’m sure but…I have plans.” I scratched behind my ear and offered a tight smile.

  Miles barked a quick laugh and shook his head incredulously. “You have a date.”

  “Yes and no.” I hastened to explain. “Not a real date. I mean, it is but it isn’t.”

  “Ahh. A date with the marvelous Dr. Pap-smear. I remember now.”

  “It’s just something I have to get through. One date,” I said in a small voice.

  “Wow. You really do need me. Hmm. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.”

  I scoffed. “I don’t need—”

  “Shh. It’ll make me feel better if I think you do.” Miles set his forefinger on my lips and smiled. “I’ll go inspect the guest suite, Suzy Q. What’s the closet space situation?”

  “It’s good.”

  “Then we just might have a deal.” He winked then slung his bag over his shoulder and sashayed down the hallway toward the bedrooms.

  I watched the gentle sway of his hips as he padded barefoot out of the room. A gay Mary Poppins for grown-ups, eh? I cracked a smile and adjusted my half-hard dick. Inviting Miles into my home was irrational and foolhardy and it was going to be awkward as fuck to explain. I had enough stress in my life to keep me teetering on the edge of sanity for months. But still…I really hoped he’d say yes.

  Chapter 7

  Yes

  I glanced at the text then swiveled my chair away from my desk and contemplated an appropriate response. One-word messages warranted one-word replies…like “cool” or “great.” Or maybe an emoji. There were so many choices. I didn’t want to chance picking the wrong one, so I sent a thumbs-up symbol and waited for Miles to answer. I frowned at my phone screen and considered adding a few words. What would I say? “Glad to have you” “When are you—”

  “Grant!”

  I jolted to attention, bobbling my cell in the air before catching it and slapping it facedown on my desk. Talia snickered as she entered the room, clipboard in hand.

  “Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Jesus. Take a seat.” I glowered and gestured toward the office chair across from me.

  “I apologize, but I called your name five times. You’re in la-la land. Your date must have gone really well.” She patted herself on the back then leaned her elbows on my desk and purred like a cat. “Tell me everything.”

  “About what?”

  “The good doctor. Was he good?” she asked, waggling her eyebrows lasciviously.

  I gave a half laugh and rolled my eyes. “It was dinner. Nice but nothing exciting.”

  “That’s too bad. I have two more candidates. Which one do you want first?”

  “Neither.” I turned to my computer dismissively and pulled up a spreadsheet of current listings.

  “C’mon, Grant. One is an accountant, and the other is an artist. Both are good-looking and fit.”

  “Where are you getting these guys? Don’t answer. We need to get to work.” I shot her an exasperated look then tapped my finger against my monitor for emphasis.

  “This is part of work. It’s the special inside project you agreed to. Three dates and—”

  “I said one and I did it. I’m busy, Talia. I don’t have time for this. Are you ready to go over the updated listings?”

  She cocked her head and pursed her red lips as she studied me intently. “Hmm. You’ve got a secret.”

  “What? No, I don’t.” I rolled my eyes and huffed.

  “I have teenagers, Cuz. Don’t try me.” Talia sat back and crossed her legs. “Okay, fine. Have it your way. Like you said, we’re too busy and…” She cast a coy glance at me before adding, “We’re about to get busier.”

  I pushed away from my computer to give her my full attention. “Oh?”

  “Stockton called this morning and asked if we might expedite the renderings.”

  “Whoa. Really? How soon do they want them?”

  “Within the month.” She squealed then hopped to her feet and skirted my desk before wrapping her arms around my neck from behind. “I’m so proud of you. This is getting more re
al by the second!”

  I grinned and gently peeled her off me then slid my chair sideways to give her room to sit on my desk. “Don’t count your chickens. We don’t have anything yet.”

  “It’s coming, though. I can feel it. I called Macklin to do the drawings, but he’s booked solid, so I took the liberty of hiring the artist Stockton suggested to help with the sketches. I’m going to meet with him this week and hopefully get started. I’ll pull you in for approval once he has something for us. Sound good?”

  “Yes, that’s great. I think.” I stopped and furrowed my brow. “Stockton referred an artist? That’s actually kind of strange.”

  “It’s not the norm, but if it’s someone he likes who can expedite the process, it can’t be a bad thing.”

  “You’re right. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. Let’s call your dad together. He’s going to freak!” She spotted my cell on the desk and picked it up.

  “Hand it over.” I made a swipe for my phone, lamenting for the millionth time the hazards of working with family.

  “Let me do the honors of announcing you. I need your password. What is—” Talia froze then cast a suspicious glance my way before pushing my phone into my palm. “Your Hostess friend is sending you kisses. What’s going on, Grant?”

  “Nothing. We’re friends. It’s not a big deal.” I peeked at my cell, relieved it was just an emoji with a kissy face. Knowing Miles, it could have been so much worse.

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  We held eye contact for a long moment until Talia finally looked away with a sigh. “It seems strange that you’re suddenly so chummy with your friend’s secretary.”

  And here it was. My golden opportunity to share the recent development in my living situation with a trusted family member who was in the unique position of being my full-time gatekeeper at work. I knew from experience it was in my best interest to make sure Talia was informed. Even my parents checked in with her before planning a visit. Well, most of the time they did. If she didn’t know what was going on, I would be the one who suffered.

  I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood and gave myself a mini pep talk. You can do it. Just tell her. Be firm. Don’t waver.

  “Miles is my new roommate,” I blurted. “I’m not sure when, but he’s moving in soon. So if he calls, you’ll know why. And if he sends funny messages, don’t be alarmed, it’s just his style. He’s a little quirky and honestly, he likes to make me squirm. So…let’s get back to work, shall we?”

  Talia’s mouth opened in a perfect “O” and froze for a full twenty seconds. I swiveled my chair around her and reached for my keyboard when the silence went on a beat too long. She smacked my hand and pointed a motherly finger at me.

  “Grant. What are you doing?”

  “Helping a friend out.”

  “He’s not like Josh or one of your old college buddies. I wasn’t born yesterday. Something’s going on between you two,” she commented astutely.

  “Tal…it’s not a big deal. Don’t make it into one. Now if you don’t mind…”

  She stood slowly and stepped to the other side of my desk, crossing her arms and rubbing them against a sudden chill only she could feel. “Why do I think this is a not-so-subtle ‘fuck you’ to your parents?”

  I huffed derisively and stared unseeing at the numbers on my computer screen. “I don’t know.”

  “Yes, you do. This feels like a grown-up version of you losing too much weight then running away from home to become an underwear model. Like you’re acting out somehow.”

  That stopped me. I met her worried gaze and shook my head. “Give me a break, Tal. I’m not a kid anymore. And I’m fine. I just wanted to let you know.”

  “Okay. Got it,” she replied softly. Her expression said the opposite. She didn’t get it, and she was anxious as hell.

  “Hey. This is nothing to freak out about. I promise.”

  She attempted to return the gesture with a pained-looking upturn of the lips before giving up. Then she threw her arms in the air and let out an exasperated rush of air. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  I raised my brow and tried to ignore my accelerated heartbeat when I spoke again. “Let’s go over these listings now.”

  She fell into the chair opposite me and picked up her clipboard. “Yes, Boss.”

  I couldn’t decide if I was relieved that she dropped the topic or annoyed that she was drawing parallels between the past and present. It was tempting to brush aside her concern, but she had a point. I’d given my family plenty of reason to worry about me over the years. I could assure her that inviting Miles into my home wasn’t a modern-day version of a meltdown in progress, but my motivation wasn’t clear to me either. I only knew it felt right.

  * * *

  Eric and Zane hosted our college gang at least a couple of weekends a month to watch whatever the sport du jour was on their big-screen television. What began as a weekly gathering after we’d graduated had dwindled over the past few years due to hectic schedules. Life was more complicated. Time-consuming jobs and personal obligations made it difficult to plan regular get-togethers, but Eric, Zane, Josh, Nick, and I did our best to see each other as often as possible. Significant others were always offered an invite and while I loved Finn and Wes, I was grateful to spend time with the guys who’d known me longest. No artifice. No explanations required. Especially on days like today when everything felt upside down and sideways.

  I sipped my beer and kept my eyes glued to the college game on the television with more intensity than the tied score at the end of the first quarter merited. I shifted sideways on the cushion when Zane sat beside me. He grabbed the beer bottle from me then swallowed half the contents before handing it back with a shit-eating grin.

  “Thanks, bud. Want a chip?” Zane picked up the bowl of tortilla chips from the coffee table and gestured for me to help myself.

  “Sure. Thanks.” I took two then popped one in my mouth and threw the other at his head.

  He chuckled as he bent to rescue the chip from the area rug. “I’m gonna tell on you. I happen to sleep with the guy who vacuumed this rug earlier and I can assure you, he’s a little particular about people throwing food around willy-nilly.”

  “My bad. I brought you guys some of my mom’s best dishes from my freezer, though. I’m pretty sure Eric will forgive me,” I said, clinking my bottle against Zane’s.

  “Ooh, very clever, Kostas. What did you bring?”

  “No idea. I grabbed the first two containers from the top shelf. That leaves me with roughly fifty more prepackaged dinners, so don’t thank me. You’re doing me a favor by taking some of this off my hands.”

  “Happy to do it, but what happened to our usual post-parent visit bash?” Zane asked.

  “I asked him the same thing.” Josh nudged my shoulder then handed over the guacamole before flopping gracelessly onto the sofa between Zane and me. He snickered when I elbowed him until he scooted over a few inches.

  “Come over whenever,” I commented in a bland tone. My friends knew me too well not to notice that my invitation was more dismissive than welcoming. I braced myself for an intense interrogation, but they didn’t say a word. Yet.

  “Where are we going and when?” Nick asked. He sat in the armchair next to me, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “I’m free all night. Wes is stuck at the winery for some harvest meeting. He can’t make it to the city till tomorrow, and I’ve given my solemn promise not to work so…let’s do something.”

  “We are doing something,” Josh challenged, gesturing toward the flat-screen.

  Nick rolled his eyes. “I meant after the games. It’s three o’clock now. Let’s go bowling or roller skating.”

  “Are you high?” Zane snorted. “Eric will hurt you if you get injured skating, and the last time we all went bowling, you got us kicked out for throwing your bowling ball two lanes down from ours.”

  “Yeah, well…that was an accid
ent,” he replied sheepishly.

  “Five times?” I reminded him, kicking his leg playfully.

  “Fine, then let’s go sailing. What do you say, Zane?”

  Nick was treated to an immediate four-way “What the fuck?”

  Eric set a couple of beer bottles on the coffee table then perched his ass next to Zane and gestured out the window. “It’s pouring, Nicky. We’re not sailing today.”

  Nick glanced out the window, cocking his head curiously as though he’d just noticed the incessant downpour. Knowing him, that might have been the case. “Hmm. What else could we do?”

  “What’s the matter, Nick? Have you been caged in a lab for days on end? No natural light, no decent food?” Zane teased.

  “Something like that.”

  “That’s your own fault,” Eric huffed.

  “Maybe but I—”

  “Hey.” Josh held up his hand to halt their banter then threw his arm over my shoulder and grinned. “Let’s go to Grant’s. We can raid his freezer and then hit a couple of bars in the Castro. Is that a great idea or what?”

  “No.” I shook my head manically and reached for my beer bottle. I started to take a sip, but I didn’t want the alcohol; I just needed a prop. “It’s not a good day.”

  Now all eyes were on me. Fuck. The problem with having four very close friends was that they knew me a little too well. It wasn’t like me to bar my home to anyone, especially not these guys. I’d happily give them the shirt off my back and whatever else they needed. They’d been there for me through some of the lowest points in my life. I knew without a doubt there was no way I could repay the gift of friendship. There was no price tag involved. Nothing to trade or barter other than companionship and honesty.

  “What’s up with you?” Josh demanded, narrowing his eyes.

  When I didn’t answer right away, Eric moved to stand in front of the flat-screen. He looked surprisingly fierce in a ratty old Stanford sweatshirt and faded Levis. Nick might have been the one to rile him up, but now I had his full attention and yeah…it made me squirm.

  Zane cast an amused gaze between his husband and me. “You might as well spit it out, Grant. Who’s messin’ with you? Need us to kick some ass?”

 

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