A shit ton of things, and I’m sure you’re about to tell me one.
“Germs. You been here all of five minutes and you think you don’t need to use a cup?” Trent walked past him, reached inside one of the cabinets, took out a medium-sized red cup, and shoved it at his chest. “Here. We’re not that close that I wanna drink behind you.”
Wood set the empty container on the counter as he glared down at Trent. He took the cup without breaking their heated eye contact and dropped it in the sink. He made sure to keep his voice low and his tone measured. “There was only a small amount left. I didn’t think I needed to waste a cup just for—”
“You drank the last of my orange juice?” Trent glanced over at the carton.
Wood sighed and ran his hand through his hair, and Trent’s dark eyes followed the movement. They were standing close enough that he was able to see that Trent’s eyes weren’t as dark as he thought. They were more of a smoky amber, hooded by deep brown lashes. Wood slowly brought his hand down, and Trent fell back a few steps with a determined expression.
“We need to set some house rules. Right now.” Wood watched as Trent marched into the living room, opened a drawer in one of the side tables, and took out a spiral notebook and a black Sharpie.
“I don’t think that’s necessary. I understand. Don’t drink all the orange juice.” Wood tossed the empty container in the trash bin. “I got it.”
“Yeah, we do need rules, because it’ll keep one of us from getting in trouble.” Trent was barefoot, and he’d changed into a pair of loose sweatpants and a white tank top.
“Just one of us, huh?” Wood challenged. He tried not to stare at the way the thin material molded to his roommate’s nice chest. He made sure to busy himself with washing his hands so he didn’t get caught gawking. At first he thought Trent was as straight as an arrow, but in order to survive, Wood had spent the last decade mastering how to interpret the intent in a man’s eyes, and right now, he was getting some unique vibes. He watched Trent roughly scribble a sentence on the paper and tape it to the refrigerator. He leveled Wood with a warning glare that didn’t pack as much heat as the man thought and pointed at what he’d just written. Trent’s forearm flexed, and Wood felt his cock respond. Damn this man.
“Must use a cup or dish to eat and drink.” Trent glanced toward the stove. “You plan on getting a bowl and spoon, or were you gonna gulp the stew right out the pot?”
Wood inched closer, unable to help himself. Trent had so much attitude and spirit packed into a sexy-ass, compact body that he didn’t know where to start with his fascination. Wood wasn’t used to men mouthing off to him. “You got a real smart mouth, you know that?”
Trent smirked, seeming unfazed by Wood trying to use his size to move him. “So I’ve heard.”
Wood glanced down when Trent pressed his forearm into his stomach, allowing himself to be moved out of his way. “I guess you won’t be joining me for dinner.”
“Not tonight.”
“You sure?” Wood heard the lust in his voice.
“Enjoy.”
Wood assumed Trent’s door closing was his final answer, and he had to wait until his cock stopped pulsing before he could eat. So much attitude. How’d I get so lucky?
Chapter Five
Wood
Even though his new room was warm and Wood’s bed was comfortable, he hadn’t slept more than two hours the entire night. He’d fluctuated between unpacking his clothes and staring out the window at the empty backyard. He’d almost dozed off when he heard a soft melody coming from Trent’s room, but it’d stopped before he could enjoy it. Wood wasn’t used to the noises the trailer made in the middle of the night, and anytime he laid his head on the soft pillow and closed his eyes, his mind raced nonstop. He’d been removed from society in the early 2000s, and he’d come out in 2020 to a different world.
Wood turned on his television around five and figured he’d watch some local news before he got dressed for the day. He remembered one of the many group sessions he’d had on how to adapt to modern society and what to do when feeling overwhelmed. He made a small list of tasks that were important and on the forefront of his mind. There were so many things he needed and wanted to accomplish, but thinking about all of it at once was going to continue to keep him up at night. First things first, he needed to find a better job because eight dollars an hour just wasn’t going to cut it.
He was idly listening to a report on the weather when he heard Trent’s bedroom door open just before six. Bishop had told him that Trent ran one of the ground crews for Mike, but he wondered what he did for money while Mike’s landscaping business was in their off-season. He got up and put his tank top and basketball shorts back on, figuring he’d see if his new roommate was a morning person or not.
Trent was sitting at the dinette table scrolling through his cell phone and eating a massive bowl of generic Frosted Flakes when Wood walked in. Trent’s gaze roamed up and down his body before he quickly returned it to his breakfast. Interesting. “Good morning.”
“Unnh,” Trent mumbled around his mouthful of cereal.
“Mind if I join you?”
Trent shot his eyes up at him, and Wood noticed he had dark circles under them. “It’s your place too. Do whatever you want.”
“That wasn’t exactly a welcome,” Wood pointed out.
“This isn’t Denny’s.” Trent grinned, and Wood noticed how sexy his smile was when he thought he was being a smart-ass. He couldn’t become infatuated with this young man when he had grown-man stuff to do. And he could already tell that Trent liked to get a rise out of people. If he kept it up, his slick mouth and quick wit were going to get him in trouble.
Wood opened a couple of cabinets and asked, “Any coffee?”
“I don’t drink it. You’ll have to put it on your grocery list.”
“I’ll just have cereal.” Wood took a regular-sized bowl out of the cabinet and grabbed the box of Fruit Rings. He hadn’t had those in, well… a long time.
Trent leaned back in his chair, watching as Wood fixed his breakfast. “For your information, they don’t put enough in those boxes for two.”
Trent’s voice was deeper than Wood thought it’d be, but when he was being a prick he added more of rumble to it, and if the man only knew what that was doing to him he’d stop. The moment Wood sat down to eat, Trent stood and rinsed his bowl in the sink. He pulled a black lunch tote from off the top of the refrigerator and placed it on the counter. While he stood with his back to him, Trent packed two thick turkey-and-ham sandwiches, some chips, and a couple of apples.
“I got an idea. Why don’t we split the groceries too? Mike said we can work that out however we want. The fridge isn’t big enough to double up on everything, and don’t you think that’d be a waste of money?”
Trent shrugged as he continued to arrange his lunch. Wood was able to get a good look at his roommate’s body from behind, and he paused with his spoon of sugary cereal halfway to his mouth when Trent bent over to get a bottle of water out of the pantry. Shit. The man had on ragged work jeans that rode low on his narrow hips, a thick wool sweater, and steel-toe boots. His body was tight, and he stood only a few inches shorter than him, but he was stacked with a lot of damn boldness. Trent would be just his type if he wasn’t so damn young. Wood didn’t know what rocked his boat anymore, but he knew it wasn’t this. He preferred maturity… experience.