Page 31 of Nicks and Cuts

A smile flickered over Shannon’s lips. “So you have met my ex…”

“I’ve met plenty like them.” They existed everywhere. They were all talk and very little action and expected everyone to notice the one little thing they did. “I’ve had men flinch when they see the scars, and some left.” Shannon had been curious. “You touched them.”

“They’re just skin; they’re not contagious,” He said like they were nothing to be worried about.

“That’s…” He was silent for a couple of heartbeats as he tried to find the right words. “You don’t make me feel like a convenient distraction. I feel wanted.”

Shannon studied him. “I wouldn’t be sleeping with you if I didn’t want you.”

“So lust with friend benefits?”

He gave a small laugh. “Yeah, maybe…”

“Well, I’m not going to kick you out, so you don’t need to panic about that.”

“And I’m not kicking you out of bed.”

So they were going nowhere, which was never a good option, but then, without a map and no idea where they were going, maybe staying put was the right option.

CHAPTER

SEVENTEEN

Where are you staying?

His mother’s text caught Shannon off guard. It wasn’t the first message she’d sent him. His brothers and sister had all messaged or left voice notes for him. Some of them had been asking when he was coming home. Others had been checking if he was still alive. Of course he answered; he didn’t want them to worry. He’d sent a pic of the view from the deck and told them he was settling in at work.

It seemed they were less comfortable asking for a hand over text than they were face to face.

His ex had messaged once to ask if he’d finished throwing a tantrum—he had ignored that one.

He was suspicious about why his mother wanted to know where he was staying, which was probably the wrong attitude.

Same place, with the trees, why?

Did she know someone? Had she been stalking him online?

I can’t send you anything for your birthday if you don’t give me an address.

His birthday wasn’t for another month, and he wasn’t sure if he’d still be at Dante’s. While everything seemed to have settled back down, there were things lurking not that deeply in the shadows. He leaned back in the lunchroom chair, the plastic back digging into his ribs.

When did a fling turn into something more?

Were they actual friends or only friends while he was living there? As far as he could tell, Dante didn’t have friends. People knew he existed, but that was as far as it went. Dante didn’t seem to have anything except for work; however, from the online stalking he’d done, he knew Dante was very well respected in that community, with people recommending his workshops and bemoaning that he didn’t teach longer courses.

Aside from posting what Shannon now referred to as knife-porn, which people seemed to drool over, Dante didn’t have any other social media. If he was on apps, he must have them turned off when in Foggy Basin.

He gave his mother Dante’s address, figuring that he’d need to redirect his mail when he moved. That he still had half his crap in the fish trailer meant that he hadn’t moved in. He was living in limbo.

Was he waiting for Dante to be ready to go out in public or was he putting off making another decision about his future? After all, if he signed a lease, that was more permanent than renting a room.

Did he really want to date, or was he enjoying fucking his landlord?

Sure, there were strings and the risk of getting burned, but as long as he didn’t start planning a future that was fine… Wasn’t it?

And he definitely wasn’t imagining waking up hearing bird song and staring out at the trees while drinking coffee for the rest of his life. Nope, not once…

More like a thousand times