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“No hard copies of the ones he dedicated to you?”
Steve felt as though he might be sick. He eyed the bathroom, measuring out how many steps it would take to get to the toilet. Could he make it, kneel, and deposit his lunch in the toilet without any spills?
“What do you know about that?” Steve asked. But then he decided he needed to be strong. He was uncomfortable and, yes, scared. If he felt that way, he needed to send this guy packing, whoever he was. “Listen, I don’t know what you’re up to, but I really don’t feel comfortable anymore.”
“Oh? And when we were having such a nice time?”
Steve ignored the question. “You really need to go.”
In response, Fess plopped down on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table. He looked settled, at home. He patted the gray sofa. “Comfy. Fold-out bed?”
“Please,” Steve said. He hated himself for how his voice had gone high, shaky.
“Please what?”
“Can you just go? I can call you a lift, if you want. My treat.”
“How rude. I just got here.”
“You said you needed—” Steve stopped himself. “I can also call the police,” he said. “I asked you to leave. You’re not going, so you’re trespassing.”
“Go ahead. I’m sure they’ll whiz right over, sirens blaring, lights whirling, guns drawn.” Fess threw back his head and laughed. “Or maybe call Connor?”
Steve’s blood went cold.
“What are you talking about?”
“He’s my husband. Didn’t you get the wedding announcement?”
Steve stumbled back a little. He cursed himself for being so trusting, so naïve, so unwitting. He was the fly that flew gratefully into the sticky web. “What do you want from me?” And then it dawned on him—the home invader. The shadow formed from the darkness. He leaned against the wall because of his weak knees. “It was you,” he gasped.
“Yes, it was me. I charmed him out of his clothes and into a wedding band. It wasn’t so hard, especially since you and this Rory fella left him so broken-hearted, reeling. He thought so little of himself. I was just the boost he needed.”
Steve didn’t dare ask if that were the case, why were they no longer together. “Tell me what you want,” he blurted. “Fess? Or would Trey be more to your liking? What the hell is your name, anyway?”
Fess said nothing for the longest time. He simply sat on the couch, as if he were the one at home and Steve were the guest. “We’ve both been jilted by the great Connor, or Alfred, or whatever the hell his name is. I thought we might commiserate. Make him jealous.”
Steve shook his head. Words didn’t want to emerge.
“No? We could get up to a little fun, take naked selfies, send ’em to him. Wouldn’t that put him in his place?”
“I don’t have any bad feelings about Connor.”
“Well, you should. You’d be amazed at how he badmouthed you.”
“I don’t want to hear it.” Steve blew out a frustrated breath. “Will you get the fuck out of my house? Now.”
“In a bit, okay? Just relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“It didn’t occur to me that you would hurt me,” Steve said. But now it did.
Trey patted the couch. “Come sit down.”
“I don’t want to. Dammit. I want you to go.” What could he do? Scream? What would his new neighbors think? Hecouldleave, but this was his place and god only knew what the guy would do to it if he were gone.
“All in good time, my pretty.” Trey laughed. “Sit down, Steve.”
Because he was afraid and because he thought maybe if he complied, the guy would get out quicker, he crossed the room and sat on the edge of the couch. “What now?”
