Page 100 of Poolside

Dr. Anderson nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Maybe there’s something to be said for the way Tommy has shown up for you in the past month. There is a real potency to the feeling of a partner seeing and knowing the parts of yourself that you’ve kept hidden or felt shame about. When they see you and, in spite of it all, keep choosing you. Do you think that’s what Tommy has done?”

Chuck swallowed. “Every day. He’s so good to me.”

“Do you think maybethathas something to do with your libido?”

Chuck thought about it. Tommy had shown up again and again. He’d articulated his own needs, and voiced his own fears, with a courage and vulnerability that had left Chuck breathless. Tommy was patient with him, and really listened when Chuck spoke. The intimacy they shared—sure, it was physical, but it went so far beyond that too.

Even when he was away at work, or on the nights he slept back at his own apartment, Chuck never doubted Tommy. No matter where he was, Chuck knew he wasn’t alone.

“I think I’m in love with him,” Chuck admitted.

Dr. Anderson smiled. “And how does that feel?”

“Inevitable, really.”

“I’m happy for you, Chuck. Truly, I am. Now let’s go through the past few days. Were there any moments you’d like to discuss? Low points we can work through?”

As Chuck began to run through the ups and downs of his week with Dr. Anderson, all he could think about was Tommy.

* * *

Chuck couldn’t believe Tommy had agreed to take all three cats to the vet at the same time. Sure, Chuck had carriers for each of them, and it was only a routine appointment to get them caught up on their shots, but the voice in his head still whispered thatthiswould be the thing to send Tommy running. That doubt had grown quieter in the past month. Not gone entirely, but soft enough to ignore.

Tommy had even texted a selfie from the vet of him smiling like an idiot with both Angel and Bones tucked under one arm and Sir Mix-A-Lot perched on his lap. Bones was, predictably, baring his sharp teeth and glaring at Tommy like he was actively plotting his demise, while Angel looked only mildly inconvenienced by the whole thing. Sir Mix-A-Lot looked right at the camera like he was intentionally posing.

Chuck was curled up on the couch when he heard the crunch of tires in his driveway. A door slammed. Then a series of shouted curses and yelling andfuck,was that meowing?

Chuck started to stand, only to jump up on the couch with a shriek as loud scratching sounds came from under the living room floor. The noise moved quickly, like maybe Leonard was suddenly inspired to start exercising.

His heart pounded as he threw open the front door. It took him a moment to locate Tommy, who was lying flat on his stomach between the dahlias in the front garden bed with a distressed and yowling Angel gripped tightly under one arm.

“What the fuck?”

Tommy looked up at him, one side of his face smeared with dirt, his eyes wide and panicked. “Bones just ran under the porch.” His mouth tightened. “Based on the noises in there, I think he met Leonard.”

“Shit.” Chuck nervously ran a hand through his hair.

A long hiss and another loud meow echoed from the little gap between his front stoop and the wood lattice that covered the opening to the crawl space.

Without saying a word, Chuck turned and ran back into the house. He heard Tommy’s footsteps behind him as he dodged his dining room table and tugged open the sliding glass door to his back patio.

He slid to a stop as a blob of matted gray fur shuffled out from under his patio with a gray and white cat hot on its bald tail. A hard body slammed into his back, and it was only Tommy’s arm wrapped around his waist that kept him upright.

“Bones!” Chuck shouted, not exactly sure how screaming at the cat would help.

But Bones was locked in, hissing and spitting as he chased the possum across Chuck’s yard and up into a young oak.

Chuck was honestly surprised Bones didn’t follow Leonard up the tree, merely hissing up at the animal a few times before turning away and proudly sauntering back toward them. Chuck could only stare in disbelief as the cat butted his head against his shins, clearly demanding a reward for his efforts.

Tommy thunked his forehead down on Chuck’s shoulder, letting out a loud sigh. “Fuck,” he muttered, before straightening again. “I’m going to get a box.”

Chuck grabbed a fistful of Tommy’s shirt. “You are not going to try to catch Leonard right now, Tommy. That’s what the animal rescue people are for.”

“You call animal rescue, but I’m not going to let this slippery little fuck get back under your house. You deserve some peace, baby, and I’m going to give it to you.”

The entire situation was so ridiculous that Chuck wanted to laugh, but Tommy looked so determined he bit back his smile and took his white, scowling cat from his boyfriend’s arms. It only took a moment to find the number for the local animal rescue center and report that they’d found a possum.

Tommy jogged around the side of the house, reappearing with a foam cooler, a rake, and a pair of leather work gloves. He was still dressed for work in a linen button-up, khaki pants, and loafers.

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