Page 57 of Not Catching Love

“Ten thousand. Well, that’s a guess based on my serious mailing list. My other one is closer to two hundred thousand.”

Holy shit … he’s not exaggerating. My face falls into a frown. “I’ve seen you in class, and I know you’re good, but … why haven’t I seen any of your work? The stuff you sell?”

His expression is pure confusion. “Why would you want to?”

“Because I’m a bit fucking overwhelmed that you have that many people justwaitingto buy something from you.”

He shifts and turns his attention to his hands. “Some of them might have lost interest, I don’t know. But the second Isend something out, it sells. Then I get a whole flood of angry emails from people who missed out. They range from disappointment and making me feel bad to people saying I’m a scam artist who isn’t actually selling anything. Sounds like a weak scam to me, but what would I know?”

I pull the car up out the front of the park. “People get mad at you about that?”

“People get mad about anything.”

My jaw aches at how tight I clench it, caught by surprise at the anger that bubbles up. “I don’t like that.”

He unclips his seat belt and turns toward me, leaning closer. “What are you gonna do, Daddy Derek? Gonna message them all to leave your poor little Xander alone?”

I groan and swipe a hand down my face. “I’m not that bad.”

“You sure? You’re sounding very overprotective. Gonna spank them all?”

I burst out laughing. “Of course I’m fucking not. But I’m not going to act happy that people are being dicks to you.”

“Ehh. That’s how people are. Not giving a shit about the things they say to me is one lesson I can thank the universe for learning early.”

“I wish you didn’t learn it at all.”

“There are lots of things I wish for. Lots and lots and …” His gaze drops to my mouth. “Lots …”

“Stop that.”

His devilish grin comes out. “Make me.”

Instead of setting myself up to fail, I release my seat belt and climb out of the car.

Xander follows, and when he’s close enough, he nudges me in the direction of the swings. “They’re both free, come on.”

Other than a mom with two young kids, the playground is empty. Xander and I take the swings side by side, and I push off the ground. It’s been … well, forever since I did this. I’m sure I loved it as a kid, but it was so goddamn long ago that I don’t remember now.

The slow creak of the chains eases us back and forth, him forward, me backward, until we switch.

“What’s your favorite word?” he asks.

Him randomly asking my favorite anything threw me off at first, but I’m ready for him this time. “Formicarium.”

“Formi-what?”

I laugh because I knew he’d react like that. “It’s a man-made ants’ nest.”

“Right …”

“I have one.”

“Wait,what?” He drags his platform sneaker in the mulch to stop and turns to stare at me. “Ants? You keep ants? Is this your way of breaking it to me that you have a really dirty house? Because that’s not a formi-whatsit—I’m pretty sure that’s just a hovel. And unhygienic. Our first time cannot be there, so if it’s going to happen at my place, you’ll have to deal with my roommates listening in.”

“No first time. No any time.”

“Sure.”

---