I'd known this was coming and was almost relieved to just lay it all out there. I picked up a fry and dragged it through ketchup before eating it, buying myself a few seconds to think. "Mitch is a guy I saw a few times. We met on Grindr about a month ago."
"A month?" He cocked his head, surprised by that answer. Honestly, I wasn’t sure how to feel about the fact that he wasn’t surprised I’d met Mitch on Grindr. “So it was serious?”
"No, not really." I shrugged like I didn't want it to mean anything because now it mostly didn't. "It was supposed to be a one-time thing, ya know. But he didn't take the hint when I told him that, and he kept coming around."
Ozzie's jaw tightened slightly. "He kept coming back even after you told him it was done?"
"Yep. He sent texts all day about how he wasn’t gay, but then he showed up outside my work. A total stalker situation." I kept my eyes on my plate, humiliated that I’d invited someone so unhinged into my life. "Last night was the first time he left himself in with a key I didn’t know he had. I told him to leave and never come back, and that pissed him off… You can see what happened after that.”
He was quiet for a second before he looked up at me with an unreadable expression. "What did you see in a guy like that? Why would you even bring him to your apartment?"
"Because I'm an idiot, apparently."
"That's not what I mean and you know it, Cedric."
I looked up and locked eyes with him. He wasn't being mean, but he also wasn't gonna let me ignore him. And something about the way he looked at me almost made me want to answer. Almost.
"Why do you even care? Just because we’re neighbors doesn’t mean you have to rescue me..."
"Honestly, I don't know." He picked up his fork and then put it down again. "I guess I’ve seen some things that concerned me, but I thought I needed to mind my own business. The people leaving always looked a little…rough. And they just didn’t seem right for you. Then last night, when I saw all the cops at your place, I panicked and realized I should've said something a long time ago."
Wow. That was the last thing I expected to hear from him. He’d been keeping an eye on me. That was both embarrassing and…kinda sweet. "Well, as you can guess, I don’t have the best track record with men. I usually go for guys who are mean and kinda unstable." I said it lightly, like it was a joke, even though it definitely wasn’t. "Big, rough… I don't know. It's a type."
"Why don’t you like nice guys?" He seemed wounded by that fact, and maybe afraid of the answer.
"I don't know. I just don’t." I looked away and took another bite. "You know what they say. Any attention is good attention."
He growled a little, and I looked up. Something shifted in his face, and that patient look he'd had all day was gone. "No, Cedric. Good attention is good attention. You deserve someone who’s kind to you. Someone who actually gives a damn whether you're okay or not. You shouldn't settle for someone just because they're paying attention to you, Cedric. That's not okay."
My face heated up, and it wasn’t from the cut on my cheek. "Yeah, well." I tried to keep my voice light, but I was pretty sure Ozzie heard it crack. "Guys like you aren't exactly lining up for guys like me. But I hear what you're saying."
He didn't say anything for a second, then he sighed under his breath and shook his head. "I don't think you do, Cedric."
4
OZZIE
After that, I decided to make him hear me by showing up and giving him the positive attention he was so desperate for.
On Sunday, I brought over a cup of coffee because I was making some anyway. We hung out for a little while, and I gave him a hug on my way out. That seemed to be the opening we’d both been waiting for. Over the next week, we met up in the morning for coffee or donuts before work. And every night, one of us would grab takeout, and we’d eat it while watching a movie.
By Thursday, Cedric was texting memes and making plans like we were old friends.Pizza tonight? My treat since you've fed me all week.
I’d loved every minute of taking care of him, but I respected his need to reciprocate that sometimes.I’ll be there at seven.
The bruising on his face had started to fade to a yellow-green hue, and the cut under his eye was healing without any sign of infection. Not that the imperfections did anything to hide his strong jaw and hungry eyes. Every time I looked into them, they showed me just how badly he wanted to be loved.
And that only fueled my desire to be the one to do it.
He also moved more easily with each passing day. There was a slight wince when he got up too fast or laughed too hard, but he was getting back to his old self. At least physically. Emotionally, I wasn’t sure. There was still a tension that filled him whenever his phone rang or there were heavy footsteps coming down the hall. And he might not ever break the habit of sitting with his back to a wall, but I was actually happy to see he was taking his personal safety more seriously.
Honestly, Cedric kept surprising me.
Underneath the past hurt and self-deprecating jokes, he was genuinely funny. His dry sense of humor snuck up on me when I least expected it. The other night, he made me laugh so hard about his coworker's lunch habits that I nearly choked on my popcorn. But the best part was that he looked so pleased with himself for making me happy. Like it was a new trick he was proud of.
But there were a lot of moments I was noticing in a different way.
Like the quick glances when his eyes dropped to my mouth or my hands for a few seconds too long before he caught himself and looked away. I noticed because I was doing the same thing, except I'd had more practice at not getting caught.
