This summer is going to be fun.
When lunchtime rolls around, Dad knocks on Mitch’s door. Tyson hovers behind him, not making eye contact.
“We have that important business lunch we need to get to,” Dad says.
Mitch smirks. “Oh. Right. Business lunch.”
“Need me to sit in on that too?” I ask.
Mitch levels me with a look. “Important business lunch is code word for beers at a place around the corner. You two go have your own lunch.” He gestures to Tyson.
I rub the back of my neck. “Uh, sure. Lunch.”
I’ve never seen Tyson look more uncomfortable.
“Take an hour,” Dad says, and we’re sent on our merry way.
Tyson still hasn’t said anything.
“We don’t have to have lunch together … I mean, if you don’t want.”
Tyson shrugs. “We agreed to be friends, right? Friends do lunch. Well, not do lunch. Sex and food shouldn’t mix. Unless we’re talking whipped cream or—” He slams his mouth shut. “Never mind.”
I shift and try to tell my cock to calm down, because I was enjoying his words way too much for something that’s only an offhanded comment.
“Where do you want to go?”
“Oh, I was going to go home. I have stuff in my fridge. You could come home with me.” He winces. “To eat.” Another screw up of his face. “Lunch.”
I can’t help laughing.
“I have to be really tight—” He sighs. “Reword. I have to watch my money because the internship barely covers rent, so I can’t afford lunch every day.”
“That’s no problem. There’s a deli across the street. I’ll grab a sandwich, and then we’ll head to yours?”
Tyson nods.
I duck inside and get my food and then meet him back on the street. “Do you live close by, or—”
“Literally a block.” He points in the direction of the overpass across the freeway. “I have to warn you. It’s … not a very nice apartment, but they let me take a three-month lease. I plan to move somewhere better if I get the full-time position. Which saying this now sounds kind of naïve of me. Of course you’re going to get it. You’re the boss’s son.”
“I’m not even going for it. I start business school in the fall. So you’ve got a fifty-fifty shot.”
Tyson’s shoulders sag in relief. “Oh, thank fuck. I was beginning to think I was screwed here. I don’t want to go to grad school. I hated classes. I wanted this entry-level position because I’m a better learner hands-on.”
I try to smother a smile. “I guess we have that in common.”
When his gaze darts to mine, I waggle my eyebrows.
Tyson puts his hand on his heart. “For the love of everything glittery, I think you might be the death of me, Giovanni Rossi.”
Chapter 5
TYSON
I’m not being dramatic. Much.
He might give me a heart attack if he casually mentions our hookup again. Or smiles at me with those twinkly eyes and that dimple I can’t stop picturing.
We get to my apartment, and honestly, even “apartment” is a stretch. When I say it’s not nice, I mean total shithole, and while I’m borderline embarrassed to be showing Rossi where I live, it’s not because I think he’ll judge me. I’m used to being judged. No, it’s that I have this horrible need to impress him.
I’d love my zero-fucks attitude to make a reappearance now, thanks. Sadly, it’s still missing when we arrive.
My apartment is nothing more than a glorified garage with a rickety loft built in so I have somewhere to fit my bed. I unlock and push up the roller door, revealing tiled floor, a dated one-wall kitchen to the right, and loft to the left. I have a fridge, couch, TV, and bed to my name.
Eat your heart out, Giovanni Rossi.
He blinks at the room, and I try to hold back from making excuses for it. I already told him the reason I’m living here—no need to overstate it unless I want him to know exactly the level of embarrassed I am.
“This is cool,” Rossi says. I’m sure the sweetheart is trying to sound encouraging, but his voice slips on the last word.
“If cool means cold, then yes, I can confirm that even in the summer this place is like an icebox.”
“Maybe I could talk to Da—”
“Nope.” I cut him off before he can finish the thought. “That’s cute, but there’s no need. If I don’t get this position, there’ll be another one. Probably. Either way, I want this job on merit.”
“Fair enough.” He wanders over to my couch and drops back on it, making himself at home while I heat up my lunch. It’s not until I join him that he speaks again. “At least you have your own place. That’s pretty awesome.”
“Except it’s hard to be fabulous when you live like a hobo.” I sink down next to him, hand pressed dramatically to my forehead, abandoning Serious Tyson to the office. “One day I’ll be a sugar daddy, and then all the men will want me.”