Page 2 of His Middle

Arlen fiddled with his hands and bit his lip. “One of the toilets in the downstairs bathroom is overflowing. I’ve been mopping it up, but I don’t think I can unclog it before the party gets here. I didn’t want to bother you, but I couldn’t unclog it on my own and I have no idea who your dad—” Arlen’s hand flew to his mouth. “Sorry. I meant I don’t know who you use.”

Noah’s bottom lip trembled. “I don’t know who I use, either.” He woke up the screen of the old desktop’s monitor. “I finally found the vendor list in the services folder under some weird name, but I don’t remember there being a plumber listed.” Noah clicked on the folder he was searching for. His dad, or maybe it was Jonathan, didn’t have things organized the way Noah would’ve done had he set everything up. Not that he knew how to set anything up. “Okay, let me see…”

Scroll, scroll, click, back arrow, scroll, scroll, scroll,click, back arrow, scroll…

Noah groaned in frustration “These damn acronyms are driving me crazy!”

He’d been trying to locate everything important, reorganize and rename the computer files in conjunction with the paper files, butfuck. Who had time when there was a constant stream of questions, problems, shipments, weekly payroll, employee schedules, ordering, and other day-to-day issues to deal with?

Plus, the learning curve. The awful, brain-exploding learning curve. He rarely got home before four in the morning anymore, and still couldn’t seem to get a handle on things—never mind handle life outside of the club.

Cleary, he wasn’t cut out for this job.

Noah glanced up and noted Arlen shifting from foot to foot as if he had to pee.

“You can use my private bathroom if you need to.” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “You don’t have to ask.”

“Um, that’s not it. There’s actually an issue with Owen from Paper Products Plus. He says he won’t deliver the supplies until he gets paid in full.” Arlen flushed. “I’m sorry, but he was ranting in front of the cooks and Dirk, and…” Arlen twisted his hands again. “I’mextrasorry, but he says he needs to speak with you about it before he’ll deliver this month’s order. Um...”

Arlen scratched his head. “I know this is all super hard to handle, I’d have run screaming from this building a long time ago if I was in your shoes. But friend to friend—you should return calls. He says he left three messages then decided to come down here in person since you were ignoring him.”

Noah’s stomach clenched. He hated listening to the voicemail,dreadedhearing bad news then having to face people, even if it was only over the phone. Sure, he was wrong to ignore them, but a part of him kept hoping things would just resolve themselves somehow. Once again, he was reminded how disappointed his father would be in him.

Noah sniffed. “He’s right. It’s just that…” He sniffed again. “I still have to add up all the deposits and put them in the books, and…” Noah scrubbed his face with one hand then gave Arlen a pleading look. “Should I hire a bookkeeper?”

Arlen’s eyes went wide. “Dude. You’re askingmewhat to do?” He snorted. “There’s a reason I have a Daddy. I have no idea what you should do. Maybe, get one of those programs or something? What do you use for your T-shirt business?”

Noah gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Not much these days. I had to put the online store on pause. But before that, I was using an Excel sheet my dad taught me how to use. He made the template, and I just filled things in as I went along.”

Tears swam in his eyes, which would besoembarrassing when he went out to speak with the angry vendor.

Arlen went back to hand-twisting and lip-biting. “Well, uh… I know I’m not much help when it comes to these things, but I do know the guy at the back door won’t go away, and we’re seriously almost out of toilet paper.” He gave a shaky laugh. “Although, it’s not as if anyone can use the downstairs bathroom anyway. Maybe we can make it last until you figure out what to do?”

Noah chuckled with no humor. “Yeah. Right. Unless you think we have enough toilet paper until hell freezes over, I’d better go deal with this guy.” He sighed. “Tell him I’ll be out in a minute.”

Arlen nodded, his brow creasing. “Okay, hon.” He came around the desk then gave Noah a hug. “You can’t keep going on like this. Sawyer should be back by now, it’s the end of June. You need to give him a call.”

Noah hugged his friend back, clinging to him, desperate for the kind of comfort a real Daddy would give him instead of the half-assed sessions the guy he’d been calling Daddy for the past several months provided.

As Arlen rose, Noah swiped the tears off his cheek. He was so fucking tired that keeping his emotions in check was next to impossible.

“Okay. You’re right.”

“Promise?”

Noah nodded, his lips pressed together. “I promise.”

He’d tried to do this on his own and failed. As much as he’d been resisting making a fool of himself in front of his secret crush, he couldn’t see any other solution.

It was time to give his dad’s best friend a call.

Chapter Two

Sawyer dropped his carry-on in the hallway of his townhome with a grunt, then dragged his sorry ass to the bedroom. His only thought was how quickly he could shed his clothes and get into a nice hot shower. The rest of his luggage could be dealt with tomorrow, and he wouldn’t have to worry about his backpacking gear arriving for at least a couple more days. By then, he should’ve somewhat recovered from his Everest trip.

He stripped off his clothing, dropping each piece onto the floor as he shuffled into the bathroom, and wondered if his body would ever be the same again. He’d declined to make a play for the summit at the last minute—a heartbreaking decision after the hopes, dreams, expense and years of training—but the weather had looked sketchy. He craved adventure—however, he wasn’t a reckless guy.

Sawyer turned on the spigots in the large, stall shower, and when the hot water rained down on him in a glorious spray, he groaned embarrassingly loud as he stepped into the stream. After months of roughing it, taking a proper shower was better than an orgasm.

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