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My insides were suddenly heavy with melancholy. It wasn’t that I didn’t know what that felt like. I did. My mom loved Molly and me. There was no doubt in my mind about that, but…maybe she didn’t love herself enough to want more? Or at least to fight for it and to not let herself get taken advantage of. I wasn’t sure how else to think of it. I sure as hell wasn’t going to share it with him, though.
“Anyway…if Ross wasn’t a good man who cared for others, if he were selfish and only thought of himself, then I wouldn’t give him as much as I do. But I guess…I guess I grew up so young and so quickly that I want him to be responsible, yes, but also to get to hold on to his youth in some ways, not to have to rush into the time when everything is about work and how much money he can make and all the bills he has to pay. Hell, I don’t know. Maybe it’s an excuse and I need to let go and let him do more on his own.”
I frowned, surprised Harrison had shared all that with me. He didn’t hold his feelings inside the way I did. Ross was just like him. I could joke and talk shit and be sarcastic all day long, but I didn’t share the real stuff. How did they do that?
“I don’t think it’s an excuse. Ross loves animals and volunteers at a shelter once a month. He graduated third in our class. He’s stepped into one of your dealerships and got right to work. He doesn’t treat his job as if he can slack off or do whatever he wants because his father owns it. He takes it seriously. Whatever you’re doing as a parent, it’s right.”
I felt his gaze on me, the warmth of his stare that made whoever he was looking at feel like the most important thing in the world. It was how he’d looked at me when we were in bed together. I turned his way. Harrison’s stare was intense, penetrating, and then the corner of his mouth ticked up into that half-grin he was so good at.
“What?” I asked.
“I think we might be friends, Zander Wescott.”
I laughed. “Who said I want to be friends with you?”
“What, am I too old for you? Ugh, I am, aren’t I? Who wants to be friends with their best friend’s dad?”
“Well, I mean, I think we’re a little past thinking that way, considering I know what you look like when you have an orgasm.”
Harrison took a drink of his coffee as we continued to make our way toward Ross’s apartment. “Shit. This is a bit of a mess, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“Don’t go easy on me or anything.”
“I wouldn’t think of it,” I countered. This was dangerous, though, and I think we both knew it. We were attracted to each other, and while Ross knew what’d happened and said he was okay with it happening again as long as he didn’t know, it would complicate things. All I would want with Harrison—with anyone—was sex. What if feelings got involved or someone got hurt and that caused issues between Ross and me? Or Ross and Harrison.
“Your nose crinkles when you think too hard,” he said.
It did, but he was the only person to ever notice.
“Where do you jog?” I found myself asking. “You said that night that you jog.”
“Sometimes close to my place, in Old Fourth Ward, but often at Piedmont Park,” Harrison replied. We were at Ross’s building now, the two of us stopping in front of it.
“Me too. Piedmont Park, I mean.”
“Maybe I’ll see you there one morning. I go early, usually around six. I don’t use the entrance closest to your apartment, but I could…”
I smiled. “Maybe.” Then nodded toward the building. “I should go in.”
Harrison frowned, looked around, then startled me by dissolving into laughter.
“Um…did I miss something?”
It took him a minute to settle down. He looked younger in those moments of joy, like the years between us were shorter. “I forgot my car at the coffeehouse.”
When he started a new round of laughter, it played in harmony with mine.
CHAPTER SIX
Harrison
The rest of the day I kept smiling at random times. I didn’t know what it was about Zander that grabbed my attention so intensely, but it had yet to let go. I wanted to be his friend, which felt odd to think because of the age difference and him being so close to Ross. There were boundaries, and I’d already crossed them, first by fucking him, even if I didn’t know who he was, and now by wanting to spend more time with him. It wasn’t just about the sex, though my dick loved the idea of being with him again. I liked talking to him. He made me laugh and forget myself in a way. I wasn’t the man who left his car somewhere and forgot he’d even had it, yet Zander could make me do it without even trying.
