Description
Brent shrugged, admiring the high-tech gadgets as he and Pyke grunted, shifting furniture this way and that until the far wall of the room was bare and austere, just perfect for his needs. “I wouldn’t know,” Brent sighed, standing upright and arching to stretch his back. “Only money I’ve spent in the last six months is on rent and look where that got me!”
“Look where it got you indeed.” Pyke winked, enjoying a little company in the morning for a change. Ever since his sister had moved out a few months ago, all he’d had to occupy his time was work, more work, his side hustle, and a few murder podcasts to lull him to sleep at night.
None rivaled a morning spent sneaking around his own apartment in stockinged feet so he could stealthily admire the hot new hunk on his couch, morning wood tenting his powder blue boxer shorts as if reaching for the very ceiling itself.
“Your own room, bathroom included, plenty of Beanz in the fridge, and all for half as much as you used to pay, am I right?” Pyke nudged Brent in the ribs, playfully, something he hadn’t done in ages and had never done at work. Never even thought about doing it at work.
Brent’s dimples were outshone only by the slight creep of blush that covered them. “You’re right, I… I appreciate all this, honestly.”
They stood in the hallway, jittery from a half-night’s sleep and still on eggshells around each other. Midway between both rooms, they were at a stalemate until Brent stretched, arms over his head, underarms ripe with soft, wispy brown hair Pyke struggled not to stare at. “Are you working today?” he asked, putting his hands back down at his side.
Pyke shook his head. “Not at Garden Grill, anyway.”
Brent gave him an almost lurid once-over. “Just your mysterious side hustle, huh?”
Pyke shifted from foot to foot, ignoring the jab and eager to keep Brent in the dark for as long as he possibly could. “How about you?”
“No, finally off after a six-day grind.” Then he beamed, turning to Pyke like two kids about to go trick-or-treating together for the first time. Appropriate, thought Pyke to himself, considering the season. “Hey, I’m not usually off on a Sunday. Wanna do brunch at that new Gastro Pub downtown?”
Pyke immediately stiffened. It was the last thing—utterly the very last thing—he’d expected his new roomie to suggest at that very moment. “What? Together?”
Brent chuckled, reaching for one of the garbage bags he’d dragged into the hallway for his big move into… the guest room. “Obviously, sheesh. Just… gimme a few minutes to shower and get into something fresh and we’ll…”
“Do brunch? Together?” Pyke was struggling to hold in his excitement, all while trying to act like the most disinterested guy in the world.
“Sure.” Brent slapped him on the shoulder, big hand strong and powerful, making Pyke wonder what the rest of him would feel like and, secretly, sensing it would be twice as lovely. “I can’t think of a better way to celebrate our first day as roomies, can you?”
“Actually,” Pyke murmured to himself, once he was sure Brent was already in the shower and couldn’t hear him, naturally. “I can’t, either…”
