Chomping on a big bite from the bowl, he leaned in to look out the peephole. His neighbor stood on the other side, balancing a couple of dishes. With his fork in hand, he opened the door, her glare riveted to his freshly cut hair.
“I didn’t think it was you,” she said by way of greeting.
“Come in, Mrs. Henson.” He stepped back, opening the door wide. She barely budged an inch.
“I’m concerned about you. You’re leaving before the sun comes up then coming home so late. I never hear anything down here anymore, and tonight, I thought you were a stranger walking up the stairs.” She finally did take a step in long enough to dump clean bowls onto his counter unceremoniously. “And your meals have changed. This isn’t all the fast food you used to eat.”
“You’re concerned about me eating healthy?” he asked with a good-natured chuckle, unsure if she was irritated or concerned. Neither mattered more than adding another bite to his mouth to satisfy his rumbling belly. When he’d started this transformation, he’d asked the chef to drop meals off to his upstairs neighbor too. Not that he knew much about her, they barely spoke over the years, but she was so much like him, alone all the time. Except he wasn’t sure hers was by choice. Her tone was always full of piss and vinegar.
“Exactly. It’s not the artery clogging food you always eat.” She stepped back out the door, her tone dismissive, and started to leave him. “Thank you for sending me the meals.”
He added another bite to his mouth and nodded, fighting and failing the grin.
“You also look more like your brother now. It’s a good look for you.” She never turned back as she headed for the outside stairwell. “I have a granddaughter in Glen Rose if you’re lookin’.”
That had Ducky’s brows lifting. He stepped through the doorway, leaning his ass against the doorframe as he watched her go. Those were probably more words than they had ever spoken before. He watched her until he couldn’t see her any longer then waited until he heard her apartment door shut. Dallas was never going to believe their latest exchange.
Weirder, she had offered to set him up with her granddaughter. In all the years he knew her, he had no idea she even had a family.
That was the third time today someone told him he looked like Dallas. Even Greer had made the comment. His brother was the best-looking guy in any room. The only person who didn’t agree was Dallas himself. There was no way the compliment could be true, but he liked hearing it. He stepped back inside, shut the door behind him, twisting the locks in place.
He hadn’t moved from his and Dallas’s apartment mainly due to his aversion to change, but he had decorated the shit out of the place. His bedroom was the same room. Dallas’s bedroom had sat empty for a long time just in case he ever wanted to come back. Now that room was his StreamTrainer workout room along with the demo row machine scheduled to launch this fall before the holiday spending season.
It was the living room that was badass. He set the room up with a massive L-shaped desk that held six monitors and his own server. The rest of the room had functional furniture designed to transform from a sitting device to small desks for his team to practice and compete in their tournaments.
The extensive LED lights made the place look showtime game ready. He should think about upgrading his living quarters. His electric bill was insane for all the energy he pulled, running the equipment, and keeping the place at a cool seventy degrees. And maybe he would leave. But this small apartment was easy to maintain.
He dropped down in his gaming chair. The face recognition program brought his monitors to life and lit the LED lights all around the room. He’d disconnected the speech option because he seriously couldn’t listen to another person asking him what to do anymore. He looked down at the bowl, knocking around the edamame to mix it with the salmon for the perfect bite.
The heel of his runners hit the edge of the desk as he leaned back in his chair. He shifted the keyboard to his lap, switching it for the bowl. He didn’t look at anything work-related and instead decided to text message Chad Reeves to see if he might be up for a League game. Nothing too strenuous, something to take his mind off things. His gaming team took everything so seriously. Ducky recognized the change inside him. Three months ago, he’d have agreed with them that recreational play was useless, but now...
He opened the text app and typed a quick message to Chad, blocking out all the give and take inside his head.
“You around?”Direct and to the point. He hit send and reached for his bowl. He barely got a bite in before the three dots bounced on his screen. He shoveled another bite into his mouth as Chad’s reply came through.
“I’m here but in Costa Rica. I can talk. Can’t play tho.”
Ducky’s brows furrowed. He didn’t remember Chad mentioning the trip. He absently dropped the bowl on the desk before typing.
“When did you go to Costa Rica? Why?”Ducky waited for Chad’s response, staring at the screen. The answers came in rapid-fire succession.
“Tristan’s pushing Wilder Sports.”
“Kai’s surfing here as an interview, I guess that’s the best way to explain it.”
“I rode a bitchin wave today. Now I’m at a local bar.”
“Not really fitting in. I’m told it’s hard to shake the Dallas off me.”
Ducky started to respond, grinning at such an idea. Chad oozed that same sophistication that Greer had, except different. Chad was a professional athlete and relatable. Class structure didn’t matter to him in the least. Ducky hadn’t seen Chad in a country club or even out among people, but he bet Chad knew how to get along anywhere.
The phone rang, drawing Ducky from the mental image of Chad’s easy, ready smile. The guy preferred to be happy. After living a life under his father’s then oldest brother’s oppressive anger, Ducky found happiness a very attractive quality. He reached for his headphones and clicked the accept option.
“Hello.”
Ducky seemed so grounded and normal. Chad swallowed the last of his ice water and moved off his seat, pointing to his phone. Only the brunette who had glued herself to his side seemed to notice his pending departure. “I’ve got to take this.”
He shoved a finger into his free ear to drown out the noise as he stepped away from his stool, going for the front doors. “Hey. Hang on. I’m going outside.”
