“I wish you didn’t have to go.” Nate smiled into yet another final kiss.
And then there was no way to avoid the fact that he had to leave. He walked backward down the hall like a lovesick teenager, sketched a small wave and then he turned his back on everything they’d done and headed home. He made it all the way to the sidewalk, heading left before his phone rang—Nate.
“Hey, you,” Jared murmured.
“This is me calling. Just to say night.”
“I’ll let you know when I get home.”
Neither of them ended the call. Jared encouraged Nate as they talked about everything and nothing, both wrapped up in the sensory hangover of what they’d done, until at last Jared was at his door.
“I’m home and now I need to go,” Jared said.
“Jared?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m falling for you; I should warn you about that.”
Jared smiled into the night and pressed the numbers to get into his building.
“Too late, I’m already falling for you, too. Night.”
“Night, Jared.”
Chapter Fourteen
Nate stood in front of the bookcase. His gaze was fixed on the photograph from his and Rhea’s wedding day. He thumbed the back of his wedding band.
It had been almost a week since he’d slept with Jared. The sex had been hot, satisfying. But that wasn’t all his time with Jared had been. They’d had a date, talked, connected, held hands across the table. The urge to get closer had built from there and sex had happened. Sure, it might have scratched an itch, but it was an itch Jared had started. He’d wanted to be with Jared because it was him.
It had to be him.
He glanced at his ring. He thought he would wear it forever, but if he had a chance at something new, something different… A new relationship, a new love. Could there finally be a reason to remove it?
Getting ahead of yourself.
They had been on one date.
We should probably make it to two before I start throwing around love.
“If that’s okay with you?” he said to Rhea’s image. She was smiling, and it almost felt as if that smile was from right then, real and warm and giving him permission.
Maybe I’m going crazy.
“Dad!”
Nate looked over his shoulder when Luka came running into the front room. His eyes were wide, and he held the cordless phone in one hand and performed a peculiar interpretive dance while waving his other arm around. “What is it?”
“Can I go?”
“Go where?”
“To the movies with Keegan?” He shoved the phone in Nate’s direction.
“Sure, when?”
“Now. His mom will come get me.”
Nate opened his mouth. “Right now? Okay, but”—Luka darted out of the room—”remember I’m working tonight so you’ll need to go to Lee’s when you get back,” he called after him.
“Dad said yes,” Luka said loudly. “Okay. Bye.”
Nate sighed, following after him. Luka rushed about his room, opened his drawers and closet, pulling out clothes, adding to the already scattered toys and books and belongings on the floor.
“Luka,” Nate chided. “I thought I asked you to clean up, not make more mess.”
“I’ll tidy it,” he insisted. “I want to wear my Pac-Man Tee.”
Nate glanced over the piles of clothes. “Here.” He bent down and pulled the black T-shirt from among some others.
Luka grinned. “Thanks, Dad.”
“No problem. Now, before Keegan’s mom gets here, pick the stuff you want me to drop at Lee’s for tonight, okay?”
Luka nodded. “Okay.”
Fifteen minutes later and Luka was heading out the door. “Here,” Nate said and handed him some bills. “But not too many snacks, got it?”
With a nod, Luka huddled with Keegan, the boys laughing together.
“He’s staying at my neighbor’s tonight because of work. You have her number still? Just in case.”
“I do.” Keegan’s mother smiled. She was a tall woman with long, straight black hair and heavy bangs set against her pale skin. She had the appearance of a porcelain doll, but appearances were deceptive, she was anything but a fragile doll. “Come on you pair,” she said in a brisk tone. “You want to have time to get popcorn and sodas before the movie starts, don’t you?” She walked away.
“Yes, Mom,” Keegan said and stood straight, gripping Luka by the wrist and dragging him along as they followed her.
“Bye,” Nate called after them.
He shut the door, considered what to do with his time before heading to the bar. First, he needed to take Luka’s things over to Lee’s. He made his way to Luka’s room and surveyed the chaos. Luka was a kid and made kid-mess, but this was on a whole new level.
“Oh, Luka,” he grumbled and started picking up the clothes Luka had thrown about. Luka had been asking for his room to be decorated for the last month. There needed to be a serious decluttering before that happened.
Carefully, Nate folded the clean T-shirts and put them in the dresser, piled some of the books Luka had left lying around, and generally tidied around, then picked up the backpack Luka had set aside. He hadn’t realized the zipper was open and cursed as the contents in the top of the bag fell on his foot. He pressed his lips in a line and wiggled his toes, and with a sigh, bent down, tucked Luka’s journal back in his bag and collected the loose sheets of paper that had scattered across the floor.
What’s this?
Beneath one of the pages was what looked like a business card.
“Bryant and Waites,” he read, having picked it up. “Who are they? Attorneys?” He turned the card over. It was a simple design—all black and gold and angled lines. Apart from the company name the only other detail was a phone number. He stared at the digits. Why did Luka have something like this?
He tapped the card on the back of his hand, considered what to do. Was this something Luka had picked up or had someone approached him and handed it to him? Why?
Screw it. Before his mind crafted some bizarre scenario, he should just call the number on the
