Page 23 of Relief Pitcher

“That explains all…that.” I vaguely gestured around the room. There were at least ten crow-related knick-knacks or art pieces within sight. “What did he like so much about crows? That a group of them is called a murder?”

Coop let out a shaky laugh. He still held his body tense, but his shoulders seemed to relax some. “It’s almost like you knew him.”

“Is that really why?”

“It started as a kid and continued into college. He was part of a research project that involved crows, then he volunteered at a bird sanctuary, where he befriended a few crows.”

“A bird sanctuary sounds like a cool place to volunteer.” I shifted toward him, tossed a piece of popcorn in the air, and caught it on my tongue.

“He loved it. But when it closed down, he started volunteering at other places, like a queer youth shelter.”

“The one in Newburg? We regularly fundraise for several nonprofits at the brewery, and that’s one we work with often.” We must’ve started working with them after Aleck had already passed.

As I thought about it, I vaguely remembered someone mentioning a beloved volunteer who’d unexpectedly died. I sat up straight when I recalled something. “The crow memorial! That’s for Aleck?”

Cooper’s eyes filled with tears, but he smiled. “They put up a memorial for him?”

“Yeah. I see it when I drop off our donation check each month.” I told him about the framed illustration of a crow with pinned notes of love all around it.

Coop squeezed my wrist. “Thank you for telling me.” He stared off into the distance. “I might need to consider paying the shelter a visit.”

“I’m sure they would lose their shit over that. Aleck is a fucking legend in that place.”

Coop beamed and began peppering me with questions about the charity work we did at the brewery. I told him how I’d started volunteering in high school with Austin and my best friend, Gavin, to boost our college applications. It turned out we liked it, so we’d kept up with it ever since.

We continued swapping stories about our lives. Light, easy talk as shows played in the background and the popcorn bowl emptied. I was glad I’d stayed. It was fun hanging out with Cooper for more than the sex.

CHAPTER13

COOPER

Danita: Still surviving the storm?

Cooper: Yup. You still doing good? I’m glad you escaped the bulk of it.

Danita: The power surge knocked out a freezer at the market. Mother nature’s cranky.

Cooper: Shit. Lose a lot of stuff?

Danita: Thankfully, no. What are you up to today? Working?

Cooper: Nope. Front office rescheduled today’s clients since the weather is still bad enough to be unsafe.

* * *

“You sure you don’t mind giving me a ride?” Tyler paused with his hand on the passenger-side door handle of my truck. A steady rain fell onto his jacket and absorbed into the material. The man needed an actual rain jacket.

“No problem at all. I’ve got to go grocery shopping anyway.” No way in hell would I admit wanting to drive him home to get more time with him.

The tow truck had come and gone twenty minutes ago, and there was no reason to put it off any longer. We’d had a leisurely morning of breakfast and blowjobs. I’d taught Tyler how to make omelets before I’d gone out to finally cut the tree up. He’d joined me, calling out lewd comments about my muscles while I worked, interspersed with serious questions about being a “tree doctor.” The guy cracked me up. I’d never met anyone like him. I’d probably think about him while felling trees for the next several months at least.

He’d brought light into my home over the past two days, and I wasn’t ready to descend back into darkness. Maybe I didn’t need to. Tyler had shown me that some people weren’t freaked out when I talked about Aleck. I might get lucky enough to meet more guys like Tyler.

I genuinely liked the guy. A current pulsed through me, wanting me to ask him to hang out, but it was a bad idea for so many reasons. I’d always been a relationship guy, but this wasn’t a relationship situation. He’d made it clear he wasn’t interested in pursuing anything with anyone, and even if he was, it was too soon for me. If—a big if—and when I was ready to date again, I needed to go slow.

He’d landed in my life like a guardian angel with a great dick to ferry me back into the land of people-ing. I embraced gratitude for what he’d given me as I drove us toward Dahlia Springs, and I hoped we would become friends. I could do with more of those, especially given how many faded after my life became about surviving grief.

“Got a busy week ahead?” I wanted to avoid any awkward silences. It didn’t need to be awkward.

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