Page 10 of Taking Chances

Maybe Natalie is right. Maybe he wasn’t as perfect as I imagined him.

6

LENNOX

Connor exits his Range Rover, parking it on my driveway.

“So, this is the place, huh?” he asks, sliding his hands in his pockets. Other than the few grays now visible in his hair, he hasn’t aged a day since we played together.

“Yup.”

“Has potential,” he states, his dark brown eyes evaluating my property. He started investing in properties a few years back and now owns a couple of apartment buildings, all rent-controlled.

“Sure does.”

“Talkative as always, I see.” He snorts.

I roll my eyes. “Come on.” We enter the garage.

“Wow, this place needs a lot of work.” He looks around.

“Yup, and I’ve already gotten rid of a bunch of shit. At least it’s empty now.”

It took me three days to throw everything out. So to me, it seems much better. But with the paint peeling from the walls, water damage in one corner, and light fixtures free hanging from the ceiling, there’s certainly a lot more to be done.

“I can help. My work schedule is flexible, so I can make time in the mornings.”

“Oh. . . don’t worry about it. I planned to do everything myself.” His offer surprises me. We’ve always been friends, but I’m used to doing everything on my own. I’m not really used to relying on someone.

Ever since I was a young boy, I was a loner. Keeping up the ‘everything is perfect’ façade gets harder the closer to someone you get, so it was easier to stay away.

It was easier to always look grumpy and closed off than having to explain your suddenly horrible mood to someone. Without telling them the truth. The truth was not an option.

“Look. I know you’re not the extrovert type, but you’re a friend that just moved to a new city and bought this shithole of a place. So, I’m going to come, and I’m going to help. We don’t have to chitchat, we don’t even have to talk, other than you telling me what needs to be done.”

“Fine.” I obviously don’t have a choice in the matter. And it probably won’t be the worst thing to have an extra set of hands. “How’s the family?” Rina and Connor have been married for, I think, two years now. Though Eric’s not biologically his son, he fell in love with him as soon as he met him.

“They’re great.” His face transforms into a huge grin. One that I never saw on him before.

I’m not a fan of romance stories, but as far as they go, theirs is pretty neat. High school sweethearts that reconnected after ten years. Now married and in love, and frequent guests at Lace & Leather kink club where they often put on shows for an audience.

“Rina seems cool,” I note, honestly.

“She’s the fucking best.” Though I know it’s not physically possible, I swear I see hearts in his eyes. He’s a goner for her. “So, the club. Rina and I are going tomorrow night, you can join us for a drink if you want.”

“I still don’t have my membership.” Lace & Leather, or L&L for short, has strict membership rules and requires a background check and a STI test before letting you join, as any respected sex club should. It should all be done in a couple of days, but not as soon as tomorrow.

“You can enter as a guest in the open area. Get a feel of the place. And if you meet someone that is a member, they can take you into the private rooms. That’s where we’ll be heading,” he continues. I like how he doesn’t assume I’m straight.

I am, though I’m not a stranger to group play with other genders. Still, it’s nice to know that he doesn’t adhere to the heteronormative.

Yes, I said heteronormative. I read. So sue me.

“That’d be great.” We did visit a couple of BDSM clubs together back when we were playing hockey, but he was still kind of new to the scene. Today it seems like he found his place within the community.

I take him upstairs to show him the apartment and share my plans for it. “I’ll start with the bedroom and the living room, then work slowly from there.”

“Sounds good. I have a meeting in half an hour, but I can be here first thing in the morning.” I open my mouth to say it’s not necessary, but he pats my shoulder, saying, “See you tomorrow.”

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