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Steph: I wish we could, but Gaby’s been sick all day.
Carter: Sorry to hear that.
Maya: Not as sorry as we are. Covered in baby puke.
I had to agree. Steph and Maya had gotten married last year and recently became adoptive parents to a newborn baby. They were totally happy, and I was happy for them, but it meant that they barely got out of the house anymore.
Carter: Maybe I could get some beers and some take out and swing by?
I can’t say that a night with a sick baby sounded like a good time, but I really,reallydidn’t want to go back to my condo alone. I was too revved up. I’d just been handed my fucking dream job on a silver platter and no one was around to mark this moment. I wanted to shout it from the rooftops. I needed this moment to feel bigger and more important.
Maya: Man, that sounds awesome. But you really don’t want to be around a sick kid, do you?
Maya: It’s loud and smelly and not very fun.
Carter: That’s okay. I just want to see you guys.
Steph: And we will. Another time.
I sighed. I could take a hint.
Carter: Another time, then. Hope Gaby feels better.
I rode back to my condo, ready to watch a game and maybe order a pizza, resigning myself to a night alone. Fuck, when did everyone in my life become so… different?
By the time I pulled up to my place, I’d gotten another text.
Kieran: Congrats, boss man.
Carter: Thanks. When do you get back, again?
Kieran: Tuesday. We’ll go out to celebrate then.
Carter: Thank fuck. Nobody’s around tonight.
Carter: They’re all being boring married people. Or Elias.
Kieran: Cut them some slack. At least they’re happy. Except Elias.
I laughed and told him we’d talk later.
I looked around for a place to park my bike, but all the space in front of the building was taken up by a rather large moving truck. I rolled my eyes, realizing that probably meant that someone had finally bought the unit next door.
“Fuck,” I grumbled.
I almost had the money to buy that unit myself. My plan was to knock out the wall and double the size of my place, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen. Not unless my new neighbors were going to be cool with a wrecking crew barreling into their living room.
Suddenly, a woman poked her head out the front door.
“Rex,” she called. “Rex!”
Must be her husband.
Which was a crying shame because this woman was gorgeous. Long, blonde hair, clear blue eyes and, even under the jeans and sweater she wore, I could tell she had lush, perfect curves. I don’t think I’ll ever understand guys who like skinny women. Whatever, they can keep them. I liked a woman with hips.
“Rex,” she shouted again, getting impatient.
I rolled my eyes. Whoever this Rex dude was, he was missing out on time with this woman, so he must be a pretty big idiot. I might not do relationships, but if I could invite her over tocelebratewith me, I’d get her screaming out my name too. I shook the thought away, though. I don’t fuck married women.
