Slow breath out.
Coffee fixed nearly everything.
“First thoughts here, but I promise I’m not trying to take over.” I thought I’d done a great job at handling the situation so far, but he shook his head as his hands came up in a stop motion.
“Oh no. You’re supposed to take over. I’m glitter and panic and a sub. That might be oversharing, though.” He paused, cocking his head. “Sorry? Or feel free to ask me questions if you don’t know what that means, but yeah, take over. I am not good at being in charge.”
Alrighty then.
“You’re going to close the garage and hide this shit when your family comes over.” There was no way to fix this in anything less than a week. “We’re going to bring my grill over and practice on whatever I have thawed in the fridge.”
Hamburgers?
Steak?
I had to have something.
“See?” He waved his hands at me. “Manly. You’ve even got meat at the ready.”
No.
Just a slightly take-charge asshole… who might’ve gone to a few BDSM clubs in his time.
But clearly I looked vanilla too.
“Stop that.” The firm order had him going still and I was pretty sure trying not to sigh. “We’re going to practice using the grill so you have confidence then we’ll clean it up and won’t tell your family.”
I wasn’t sure if that was a reasonable goal or not. He really didn’t look like he could keep any kind of secret at all.
Maybe I could find a bribe?
“While we’re getting that organized, you’re going to talk to me about what you were going to make later or what they’re supposed to be bringing.” Please, God, let him not say ribs or anything ridiculous.
“Meat. I have meat.”
For fuck’s sake.
“The man at the butcher said it was all good grilling options.” Sparkly neighbor guy must’ve seen something on my face because his hands started waving around. “He said no ribs. And no… no something else bobcat? No. That’s an animal. It started with a B. He said not to pick that one either even though it looked pretty.”
Brisket could look pretty?
Nope. I wasn’t going to ask because the answer wouldn’t make any sense and it’d make him feel bad or less “manly” or something negative.
“That’s good to know.” Thank god he’d explained some of this to the butcher. “Let’s go get the grill. I’m going to need your help with that, and then we’re going to look at the meat.”
And maybe the rest of what he planned to feed them because I wasn’t sure who would like a barbecue that was just meat and I wasn’t going to have that conversation with my stressed-out neighbor.
“I can do that.” He bounced up, rocking the ladder he’d been perched on. “I can carry.”
Was I allowed to ask how much caffeine he’d consumed?
How much sleep he’d gotten?
Had he even eaten?
Fuck it all.
“Good.” Not good boy. Nope. “I’m going to leave my coffee here for the moment.”
