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From: OzSorry about today. The whole situation’s fucked up.
From: BarrettThe sabotage…or you and me?
From: OzYou and me aren’t fucked up. We’re just fucking. But what you want and what I want I think are two different things.
From: BarrettYeah, I get that. Still keep you on call in case?
From: OzYou know it. That ass is too good to turn down.
And like that, it was done. Sure, they could get a beer. They could be friendly. And it was easy to walk away like this. As easy as it had been to hook up.
“How’s work?” he asked, desperate for a distraction that didn’t involve ogling Ambrose’s back.
“Same as ever. Dandi, seriously.” Ambrose laughed as the dog shook his grip on the slobbery rope and flung it from side to side. “How many of these does she go through?”
“In a week or a month?”
“Forget I asked.” A keen look on his face, Ambrose pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, his chin now resting on top. He looked younger that way, the fine lines of his face wiped away, his hair tumbling to almost mid bicep now. For all the man touted his hair care routine, Barrett could see it had been a while since his last haircut. But the winter beard was gone, leaving Ambrose’s face bare and smooth and making Barrett want to lick along his jaw.
“Raf said you and he worked out an agreement for Perry’s illustrations.”
“Yeah, actually. Good guy, your friend. Super chill.”
“I told you.” Ambrose smiled softly at him and something inside Barrett’s chest melted. Some hard exterior wall, left over after decades by bitterness and anger and isolation. Something was giving in. “Perry’s illustrations deserve to be seen. He was really talented.”
Dandi huffed at them both and threw herself onto her massive dog bed, instantly on her side with her eyes closed. “Dramatic,” Barrett said, getting a tail wag in response. “She’s ridiculous.”
“She is, but she’s worth it.”
The timer on the stove beeped a minute warning and Barrett thrust a hand down to pull Ambrose up. As he stood, Ambrose put a hand on Barrett’s shoulder to steady himself. Barrett really liked that Ambrose was as tall as he and now, this close, he could let a grin flicker over his face. An expression he absolutely hadn’t practiced in the mirror a few dozen times, trying to get it right. Intriguing, but not suggestive.
“I’m really glad Raf was able to help,” Ambrose said, his voice quiet amidst the pop of the fire and the patter of rain outside. Spring was in full force at Lake Honor, and that meant loads of rain. Grey eyes fixed on Barrett’s mouth, then moved to his beard. “When are you gonna let me help you with that?”
“When I master the chords you’re gonna teach me tonight.”
“Fair enough.” Ambrose’s lips twitched into a smile.
After dinner, Ambrose set up in the corner closest to the fire while Barrett let Dandi outside. He was excited to show Barrett new chords but the excitement came tinged with nervousness. It was one thing for him to fumble around at home or in his tiny recording studio. He could fuck up as much as he wanted, curse, agonize, tear his hair out. But Barrett was genuinely asking for help and Ambrose wanted to be a good teacher.
The next thought was he wanted to begood for Barrettbut that context had sent his thoughts spiraling.
This thing between them lay quietly slumbering. A reminder that they were going slowly, but not ignoring what was clearly mutual attraction. He’d seen Barrett staring and then quickly turn away. In any other context, with anyone else, he might have thought it a ham-fisted attempt at flirting or getting his attention. But after living next to each other for several months, Ambrose had picked up on Barrett’s situational and surrounding awareness. He was pretty sure the man didn’t miss much. So if he was looking, it was for a reason.
Barrett looked at him like Ambrose wasinteresting. Sometimes, like just before dinner, there was a flicker of heat to that gaze that uppedinterestingtointriguing, and it made his heart race. But feeling seen in such a way was also foreign to him. Letting anyone in after Preston was difficult.
He wandered over to the giant hibiscus in the living room nook window. Barrett was outside, illuminated by the back porch light and the fuzzy blue of his phone screen. He was talking animatedly to someone, occasionally swiveling the phone and laughing as Dandi barked. He stepped forward, trying to see more, when his foot bumped Stella’s pot.
“Sorry, Stella.” Ambrose touched a tightly closed pink bud with his fingertip. When he looked again, Barrett and Dandi were gone. The back door slammed and he jumped away from Stella, his finger tingling with aftershocks from her softness.
Barrett appeared around the doorway from the kitchen. He put a hand over the phone and said, “Hey, sorry. It’s my nephew, I’ll only be a few. He misses Dandi.”
Ambrose’s heart strings were properly tugged on. “Of course, of course.”
He only got a few feet closer to the fire when Barrett said, “Unless you wanna say hi? No pressure. He only knows your name and sometimes you watch her, I didn’t say anything else.”
There was something vulnerable, almost fragile, on Barrett’s face and it hit him in the chest. He had no reason to refuse. “Yeah, sure. No worries.”
“Okay.” Barrett pulled the phone back and flipped on video mode again. “Hey Forrest, remember I mentioned my neighbor?”
