Page 5 of His Middle

“Okay, cool. Thanks again.”

“Goodnight, Noah.”

The moment the call ended, Sawyer let the phone fall from his fingers onto the sofa. His body seemed as if it were filled with cement, his mind unable to truly comprehend that Oliver was gone.

Sawyer let the grief pour from him, wept until he could barely breathe. The bell to his door rang and he called out for them to leave the food on the porch. It was already paid for virtually, the delivery person already tipped. The agonizing sadness taking him over would have to be let out before he left for San Francisco.

Noah would need him to be strong.

Chapter Three

Noah glanced around the office, panic clawing at him as he tried to determine whether he’d straightened it out enough in anticipation of Sawyer’s arrival. Would Sawyer shake his head at him in disgust? Tell him how disappointed he was, that he couldn’t believe how badly Noah had fucked up his best friend’s business?

Noah chewed on his thumbnail, unable to sit still. He kept twisting around in the desk chair. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth…

Sawyer had never come across as mean or judgmental. Whenever he was in town and hung out at the club, or when he’d come to the house, Sawyer was friendly and cheery. Fun. Super nice.

And smoking hot.

His dad would’ve flipped his shit if he’d known that Noah had been perving after his buddy since he was fourteen.

Noah yelped as a loud bang on the door sounded before it burst open. Noah clutched his chest as Arlen slapped a hand to his mouth.

“Oh, Dude. Sorry.” Arlen winced. “I was just checking how things were going back here.”

Noah waved his hand around. “Look. How do you think it’s going? It’s a fucking disaster! I got here at six a.m. after barely three hours of sleep, have been at it ever since and after five hours, this,thisis what I have to show for it.”

Arlen gazed around the room, his brow furrowed as he tapped on his chin with one finger. “Hmm. Well, it’s not terrible. At least everything’s in piles and the file cabinet drawers are closed for a change.” He scratched his head. “You couldn’t get all these papers put away or something? You know, so it doesn’t appear as if…” He cleared his throat then glanced away.

Noah narrowed his eyes. “Doesn’t appear as if what?”

Arlen regarded him with a shrug. “That you haven’t touched anything or done one thing in the three months your dad has been gone.”

Noah’s jaw fell open and he clutched his hair. “That’s what it looks like? Seriously?” He flopped against the back of the chair. “He’s going to think I’m the biggest loser.”

Arlen closed the door behind him then stepped all the way into the room. He sat on the chair across from Noah.

“Noah, listen to me. Sawyer is not going to think that at all. He’s going to be on your side. Besides me, he’s the only other person who’ll get what an overwhelming and horrible time this has been for you.”

Arlen reached across the desk and held out his hand. Noah grabbed it as if it were a lifeline. “Out of nowhere you lost your dad and was put in charge of a huge business with zero training or expertise. You’ve had no support, other than my lame attempts. If anything, everyone’s been working against you and treating you like shit.” Arlen grunted. “If nothing else, he can stand up to all the assholes and their disrespectful behavior. Like Dirk, Ben, Eddie, Miguel, Kim—”

“I don’t think Kim is being a jerk. He’s always been very nice to me. He’s just super flaky.”

“And you told me your Dad was planning on letting him go, right?” Arlen sighed. “It’s not about how nice people are or if they’re your friends. It’s business.” Arlen’s eyes went wide. “Except for me. You can’t fire me.”

Noah’s jaw dropped again. “As if I’d fire you!” He gave Arlen’s hand a squeeze then let go. “How could I fire you? You’re practically the only person in this place doing his job.”

Arlen grinned. “I am amazing, aren’t I?”

Noah rolled his eyes. “Then prove it. What can I do to save this disaster area before Sawyer gets here?”

Arlen pursed his lips as he glanced around again. He returned his attention to Noah.

“When’s he getting here?”

Noah glanced at the Mickey Mouse clock on the wall and groaned. He chuckled shakily.

“Any minute.”

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