Page 104 of Zero Pucks

AMEDEO: EIGHT MONTHS LATER

I was expectingthe apartment to be worse than it was, but it was obvious my sister had been keeping it up for me once Bryce got tired of waiting around. I owed her a lot. Eight months of rent, to be exact, and several muffin baskets for keeping this from devolving into a hot mess.

I was grateful that Bryce had been blowing smoke up my ass about actually being in Massachusetts, and I was grateful he wasn’t at the apartment right then.

I’d all but forgotten about him in the time I’d been with Tucker, which was nice, but reality was threatening to crash down on top of me now.

“Wow, babe. This is, uh,” Tucker said.

“It’s a hole. I know,” I told him. But that’s what my salary got me in SoCal. A garbage apartment sorely in need of a remodel, smack-dab in the middle of La Mesa. It was within walking distance of my favorite taco shops and not too far from the beach—not that I was a beach kind of guy.

But other than that, yeah.

It wasn’t great.

“Hey, I’ve seen worse,” came another voice. Jonah was on Ford’s arm, smiling as he turned his head from left to right.

“Shut the fuck up,” Tucker said, smacking his friend on the arm.

Jonah burst into laughter. “Fine. It doesn’t smell like a dirty jockstrap, so that’s something, isn’t it?”

He was right, I supposed. Letting Tucker’s arm go, I began to walk around, cataloguing what was missing. As I predicted, all my faux-expensive dishes, most of my towels, all the grooming products I’d left behind, and my favorite dildo were missing.

The thought that he’d takenthatwas creepy as fuck, but it wasn’t like I was going to take it with us. Tucker had plenty of fun things to play with—several I’d picked out myself. I’d never been more satisfied both emotionally and physically before.

I had him. I had a new job. A new apartment, though I stayed over at Tucker and Boden’s often enough I was going to start offering rent. But my life was different.

It was good. Not perfect, but what was?

“So. What are we keeping?” Tucker asked, wrapping his arm around my waist as he leaned on his walking cane.

“Honestly, just a couple of boxes from the top of my closet and whatever’s in my safe.” I knew Bryce wouldn’t have bothered to go in there. He’d seen it before, and he had no interest in my passport and old birthday cards that Alessia had made me over the years.

“Okay, so should we?—”

“Wait.” The sound of that voice had me freezing mid-step. “Is this…ohbabe. You’re joking, right?”

Why did I think the universe wouldn’t want to have fun with me? I spun around and saw Bryce standing in the doorway. He was wearing his tightest jeans and a Henley, his arms folded over his chest. It was obvious he’d been trying to look good, but eight months of not seeing his face and my perspective had changed.

When had he gotten so haggard? He had bags under his eyes, and his hair looked like it was thinning. Or was it always like that and I just hadn’t noticed?

The sight of him didn’t fill me with terror any longer. I appreciated when Tucker stepped up next to me, but it was a relief to know I didn’t need him to.

“Thisis your entourage? The men I needed to be quaking in my boots over?” He flicked his gaze to Jonah first—who wasn’t wearing his prosthetic eyes—and then to Tucker. “A legless dude and a fucking blind guy?”

Jonah snorted. “Does he look like the chode I think he does?”

Tucker laughed. “Worse. He’s short.”

Jonah burst into laughter as Bryce squared his shoulders, trying to give himself another inch. “Sweet.”

Bryce took a step forward, but the look on Tucker’s face stopped him. “When are you going to be done playing games, Amedeo? This is fucking ridiculous, baby?—”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” I told him tiredly.

He went on like I hadn’t spoken. “The only thing you have to do is kneel down and kiss my feet a few times. All can be forgiven, and we can get back to normal. You don’t need to bring these fucking…what do they call them? Special needs? Differently abled?”

“Fuck off,” I snapped.

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