The Guy in the Middle (The Underdogs 3)

After a long pause, he drops his head, his shoulders shaking.

“Is that…laughter? Lord help me. The boy may be healed! Thank you, Jesus!”

His chuckle slows. “You’re the worst liar in the history of ever.”

“I told you that when we met.”

“Answer the question.”

“I have a gay best friend.”

“I’m aware.”

“And he puts dumb ideas in my head.”

“So, what were you doing?”

“Why do you have hooch in your closet? Are you a closet drinker?” I snort.

He rolls his eyes. “That’s Rock and Rye. It’s whiskey and lemon. I keep it for when I get congested and didn’t want Trevor to find it. And that bottle you drank was a hundred years old.”

“Seriously?” I ask through another hiccup. “Will I get sick?”

“Doubt it. Will that be all today? Or do you want to go through my bathroom shit too?”

I hiccup again. “That was the plan. I didn’t get much time in there.”

He steps aside. “By all means.”

“You know,” I say, strolling through his room, “I didn’t want a boyfriend when we met.” I open one of his drawers and pull out his razor and carefully inspect it. He hasn’t used it in days, his beard growing in at a rapid rate, and I love it. He grew one when we were together back in college. A faint memory of the feel of it against my thighs has me rubbing them together. He crosses his arms at the door of the bathroom, as I continue my rant. “I didn’t want to be involved.”

“I remember.”

“You didn’t want a girlfriend, either,” I pick up his cologne off the side of the sink and inhale his scent. Big mistake.

“Nope. I didn’t. What’s your point?”

“But we happened anyway,” I pull out another drawer and find a platinum chain covered in years of debris. “Really?”

“That’s old as shit.”

“You really should clean your closet out. Lots of old shit in there too.”

“I’ll take that into consideration.”

“As well you should.” The last of the bottle kicks in, and I turn to him, pulling an old Chapstick from his drawer. “Now, this is just disgusting.” I drop it in the trash next to his toilet.

“I use that!”

“Yeah, well, you’ll thank me later.”

“Seriously, are you that bored? Or is this just a new hobby?”

“Well, the cabana boy around here isn’t being very hospitable.” I hiccup. “Worst vacation ever, by the way. Definitely no room service.”

“I can book you a flight in ten minutes.”

“Nope, I’m good here, I just won’t be giving a high hospitality rating.”