“Gonna get the pizza.”
God, he needed to get out of there, and without waiting for an answer, raced out of the apartment and to the front door. The delivery guy handed him the hot box, and for a few moments Leo stood in the humid evening, trying to drag some air into his lungs.
It was only pizza. They’d eat and then he would send Cantrell home. Nothing more. Back inside the apartment, he found Cantrell doing a dance in the living room, the sounds of cheering roaring from the television.
“A walk-off.” Cheeks flushed and eyes heavy-lidded from the drinks, Cantrell met him halfway to the door. “Over the left field fence. Bam.” He made a right hook, laughed, and swayed.
Leo set the pizza box on the counter and took Cantrell’s shoulder. “Better sit before you get so excited, you fall.”
“Uh-huh.” Cantrell licked his lips and met Leo’s eyes. “I feel kind of spinny.” Cantrell laid his head on Leo’s shoulder.
Crap. The guy wasn’t kidding. He couldn’t hold his liquor at all.
“Let’s have you sit down.”
Leo led him to the couch, and Cantrell fell into the cushions, taking him along, surprising Leo with the strength of his grip. He had no idea what was on the screen and couldn’t care less if the Mets hit ten home runs.
Heavy breathing filled the air, and Cantrell sighed, lips pressed against Leo’s neck. Fuck, he wasn’t a saint. Cantrell felt good in his arms, his cock hard between them. If Leo moved, he could kiss those full lips he knew would taste sticky-sweet from the drink, and he’d have Cantrell stripped naked in no time. Even now, his hands itched to cup that ass and impale the man on his cock. Leo closed his eyes for a moment, then pulled Cantrell’s clinging arms from around his neck.
“Cantrell, sit up. Pizza’s here.”
Cantrell’s eyes flew open, and his face turned bright red. “Wha—oh, my God. What am I doing? I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He backed away and huddled in the corner. “I didn’t mean to be so stupid.”
Watching him carefully, Leo didn’t like what he saw. Why did he keep apologizing? Leo narrowed his eyes at the miserable man staring at the floor.
“Chill out. Let’s eat the pizza before it gets cold. I’ll get us both some water.”
Blinking furiously, Cantrell shrugged. “Sure, whatever.”
Leo hopped off the sofa, and when he returned with two waters, placed one in front of Cantrell, careful not to move too quickly and startle him.
“Here, guest gets the first slice.” He lifted the pizza, set it on a paper plate, and put it in front of Cantrell, then took one for himself. Chewing on his pizza and directing his attention to the TV, Leo left him alone, but in his peripheral vision, he saw Cantrell drink half his water bottle before reaching for his pizza. He ate his whole slice and finished his water.
“I-I’m sorry I let that happen. I can’t hold my alcohol. My ex-husband didn’t like me to drink for this reason.”
“What reason? You got a little drunk and a little silly? It wasn’t a big deal.”
“It was to Jeffrey.” Cantrell spoke softly, gazing into his now empty water bottle.
“Jeffrey was your husband?”
“Yeah.”
Leo lifted a second slice for each of them, then ate half of his. “How long were you married?” He knew the answer from reading their wedding announcement but wanted to hear Cantrell say it. See the reaction.
“About three years. We’ve been divorced close to a year now.”
“You lived in the city, right?”
“Yeah. With my friends. Afterward.” He bit off the pointy end of the slice. “They scored again. Mets are up four to one.”
They could be up twenty to one and Leo wouldn’t be half as interested as to what had happened to Cantrell to put the devil in his eyes. He guessed Cantrell to be about thirty, and married in his midtwenties, he wouldn’t have lived on his own too long, if at all. Young, probably innocent, and so naïve, it practically screamed from his open, trusting face, Morgan Cantrell was prime meat for a wolf to gobble up. Especially a wolf in sheep’s clothing like he suspected the ex-husband to be.
“Nice of them to take you in for so long.”
Cantrell shrugged. “They’re my best friends and care about me. Chris is the first person I met on my job—we teach in the same school—and his partner, Sean, is my divorce lawyer. We’d do anything for each other. My parents live way upstate, and I couldn’t go running home to them. Don’t you have friends like that?” He took another bite.
Peter would like to be if Leo let him, but the thought of being as open and trusting with his history as Cantrell…that was as painful as a needle in his eye. Trust wasn’t a part of his DNA anymore. It had been beaten out of him years ago.
“I don’t believe in spilling my guts to people.”
They only hurt you in return.
The game wasn’t over, but Leo had lost interest. In fact, he wished Cantrell would get up and leave. He didn’t belong in Leo’s ugliness, with his happy parents and cute, coupley friends.
“That’s too bad. Without Chris and Sean, I don’t think I could’ve done it. That and my therapist, of course.”
“Like I said. I handle my problems without involving anyone.”
“Well, you’re lucky. Not all of us have such self-discipline.”
Their conversation sounded too much like a therapy session for Leo, and he was ready to move on to the dessert part of the evening. He did love a good chocolate-chip cookie, and the ones Cantrell had made looked and smelled incredible. He could practically taste the butter.
“I think I’m going to go.”
“What? Why?” His gaze snapped to Cantrell, who’d already left the couch and was making his way to the door.
“It’s getting late, and my head hurts, probably from the drinks. Thanks for the pizza. Let me know how much I owe you.”
Annoyed that he’d let the man get under his skin, Leo followed him and crossed his arms. “It’s a couple of slices. Nothing big.”
“I’m sorry I got out of hand. I hope you like the cookies. I promise not to get in any more trouble.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it. It was…nothing.”
Leo let his gaze travel slowly and deliberately over Cantrell, and sure enough, he dropped his eyes. Leo caught a flare of hurt in their green depths. He flushed pink, and Leo wondered if he turned the same color all over.
“Well, okay. Bye.”
Quickly, before Cantrell took another step, Leo pivoted and pulled open the door.
“Bye, 5C.”
Cantrell passed by him, and Leo had to curl his hands into fists to keep from reaching out and yanking the man to him. After Cantrell disappeared around the corner, Leo let the door slam shut. He cleaned up the leftovers and sat with a bottle of water, thinking how even with the post-game show on, the apartment sounded way too quiet, and wondering why the hell he noticed that. Or cared.
* * *
SEVEN
* * *
Morgan had been living in his apartment for close to two months and finally felt he could call it home. He’d never received another strange call so if it was Jeffrey, he felt more confident that he’d never hear from his ex again. His parents had paid him a visit, and though he could see the disappointment in their eyes at how he’d downgraded, he’d reassured them he’d never been happier.