Chapter Five

Jeff pulled up to the Davis residence around 12:30 p.m. on Saturday, giving Cam plenty of time to sleep in and play videogames and eat sugary cereal like every teenager deserves.

The outside of the house looked like something out of a movie: a tall, hulking structure painted a pristine white and seated in the middle of a large plot of land. Jeff didn’t think it was actually colonial, but it definitely had been made to look that way. It had a wide fenced in porch held up by columns, six perfectly symmetrical windows surrounded by black shutters, two sets of French doors, double chimneys, and a long straight walkway leading down from the road.

There was also a small—probably fake—stretch of grass to the right of the walkway and several shade trees at the edges of the property.

If Jeff was being honest, he found the structure rather intimidating. Even if it wasn’t as old as it looked, it was still probably decades older than he. It had a regal air about it. Those kinds of buildings were typically owned by very proud people. Proud people who might not take very kindly to strangers. Much less gay strangers. But hey, it could be worse. At least there were no Confederate flags hanging from the portico. That happened around here more often than you’d think.

There were no cars in sight and Jeff wasn’t about to just drive his truck onto someone else’s land without clear consent, so he just ended up parking on the side of the road. He felt uncomfortably exposed walking down the narrow walkway. His side of town was more cramped and touristy. He wasn’t used to buildings being this far apart. Nevertheless, he persevered and climbed the creaky steps onto the porch. He plastered on his most disarming “I’m just a friendly teacher, please do not shoot and/or yell at me” smile and knocked on the door, opting for his knuckles over the ornate brass knocker.

No one answered right away. Jeff counted backwards from twenty and dug the balls of his feet into the porch. He knocked again, and still there was nothing. He was chewing his bottom lip and considering knocking one more time when the door suddenly flew inward, revealing Cameron wearing long socks, basketball shorts, and a vintage band tee. He had a pair of white earbuds tangled around his neck as though he’d ripped them out of his ears in a hurry.

“Hey Mr. Martin,” he said, slightly out of breath. “Sorry for the wait. It took me a while to hear the knocking over my music.”

Jeff cracked a smile.

“No problem Cameron. Your house is lovely, at least what little I can see of it.”

Cam’s already flushed cheeks got even redder. He stepped aside and ushered Jeff into the foyer.

“Oh, right. Sorry. Please come in.”

The inside of the house was just as elegant and grandiose as the outside. There were crisp white crown moldings that inexplicably didn’t have a speck of dirt on them and chandeliers that barely gave off any light. The floors were a light mahogany that contrasted well with the long floor runner leading into the hall. Connected to the foyer were two rooms on either side, one that appeared to be a fully furnished but sparingly used living room and the other which seemed to be an even less frequently used dining room. The foyer emptied out into a platform staircase and matching wooden balustrade that loomed over everything else and drew your eyes up from the ground. Also, despite it being mid-December, the air conditioning was blowing on full blast, making the open room feel ice cold. Jeff didn’t see how Cameron could stand being here in just shorts and a t-shirt. This place felt like a crypt.

Speaking of crypts, the house didn’t look lived in at all either. The entire space looked ripped directly from an interior design catalog and Jeff had a momentary surge of panic at the idea that maybe this wasn’t even Cam’s house at all and he was just squatting in a highly valued market property, a highly valued market property that Jeff was now trespassing on. But then he glanced down at an old elementary school portrait of a boy who looked exactly like Cam and some of his nerves started to ease. Still, he was kind of afraid to touch anything. He couldn’t afford to replace any antiques. Not on a teacher’s salary.

“Cam, may I ask where your parents are at?”

Cam didn’t even bother looking at him. He just shrugged and said, “It’s just me and my dad. He’s at work. He doesn’t get off until three.”

Jeff found it even more disconcerting that this large fancy house was only occupied by Cam and his father, but he supposed that would partially explain why it felt so empty and cold inside. Cam led him into the dining room and urged him to sit in one of the overly large chairs at the overly large table. Jeff did so, cringing internally at the scraping noise the chair made as he pulled it back across the floor. He got as comfortable as he could manage and self-consciously set his satchel on the floor beside him. Cameron ran upstairs and returned a few moments later with his backpack and a small stack of additional textbooks.

“I, uh, wasn’t kidding about being really behind,” Cam confessed.

Jeff nodded and asked to see his agenda. A few years ago, when the school had started requiring kids to keep them and insisting that the teachers check to make sure they were actually writing down their assignments, he’d thought it was absolutely ridiculous, but now he was grateful. He pulled out a pen and notepad from his bag and started making a running list of things that needed to be done and in what order.

“I think we should start with all your current assignments so that you can get full credit for them. Then we’ll work our way back through the catalog,” he said, chewing on the end of his pen.

Cameron didn’t argue. He just nodded and pulled out a textbook from the bottom of the stack, causing it to collapse.

“What are you having the most trouble with?” Jeff asked, internally hoping that he wouldn’t say anything math related.

“Pre-calculus,” Cam confirmed.

Jeff sighed and pulled out a graphing calculator.

“I was afraid you might say that.”

A few hours later Jeff had acquainted himself with the unit circle and other such things he’d had no use for since his freshman year of college. It actually wasn’t as difficult as he thought it might be. He had been an educator for many years. Really all he had to do was download a sample lesson plan from the school district’s website and teach it as if he were subbing for one of his colleagues. So far, it seemed to be working perfectly.

Jeff was also pleasantly surprised to find that, despite his poor academic performance, Cam wasn’t a terrible student at all. He was actually very bright and receptive in a one-on-one setting. Jeff suspected that his main problem was just a lack of confidence in the classroom; some sort of inability to speak up and ask for help, which clearly wasn’t a problem right now. He was writing things down and constantly asking for clarification. As nerdy as he himself was, Jeff understood the fear of looking stupid in front of your peers. Teenagers were mean, even in his day. He was just glad that he could help take some of that pressure off Cam.

He was in the middle of explaining how to use inverse functions to solve trigonometric equations—or at least attempting to—when there was a light knock on the French doors behind him, giving him a start.

Cam gave him a small sympathetic smile and said, “Dad’s home.”

With that, he got up to unlatch the lock and let his father in. Jefferson stood and wiped his palms on his pants before turning to face him. He and Mr. Davis locked eyes and every intelligent thought he’d ever had evaporated from his brain. Cam’s dad was HOT. Like, one of the most attractive people he’d ever seen in real life. He looked like the sexy handyman on a male stripper calendar.

He was wearing light gray coveralls with the arms tied around his waist, revealing a tight white undershirt that left little to the imagination. There were black splotches of grease all over his body, including his hair, which was short, dirty blond—pun intended—and swept to one side. His skin was several shades darker than Cam’s, as if he spent a whole lot of time out in the sun. His eyes were hazel, of the brownish green variety, and he was currently looking over at Jefferson in a way that made his arms prickle with goosebumps and heat pool in his belly.

“Are you too good for the front door now?” Cam asked, blessedly cutting the tension.

Cam’s dad shrugged and he gave a wide grin. A small dimple appeared on his left cheek, which was almost enough to make Jefferson’s heart stop beating entirely.

“I wanted to see what you two were doing,” he said, turning the intensity of his gaze to Jefferson.

“Luke Davis,” he said holding out his hand.

Jeff stared at it for a second before taking it.

“Jefferson Martin. I’m Cameron’s teacher. Well actually I’m not his teacher. I mean, I am, kind of. He’s not in any of my classes, but I’m in charge of the drama club...and the musical, which your son is the star of...so yeah. Anyway, I promised Cameron I would help him with his homework,” he finished lamely.

He had yet to let go of Luke’s hand. It was rough and weathered and covered in calluses. Jeff couldn’t help but think about what that might feel like on a particular part of his body…

Jeff let Luke’s hand drop with an awkward cough. Cam and Luke were looking at each other with what appeared to be mild concern.

“All right,” Luke said skeptically. “Well I’m sure he appreciates the help. Have you two eaten?”

He addressed this last part to his son who shook his head guiltily.

“No, we may have lost track of time.”

Luke shook his head and gave him a fond smile.

“I’ll make you guys dinner. Just give me a bit to get cleaned up.”

“Oh, I don’t want to impose,” Jeff interjected. His heart was already beating out of his chest as it was.

“Nonsense,” Luke said. “It’s the least I can do. You two just keep working.”

And with that, Cameron’s hot dad walked out of the dining room and ascended the stairs, disappearing from sight.

Jefferson let out a long breath that sounded suspiciously like a sigh. Thankfully, Cam didn’t seem to notice. He was already seated and looking over his notes, waiting for Jeff to return. The distance from where he was standing to the dining room table seemed suddenly expansive; it felt like he’d never bridge the gap. Nevertheless, he persisted and once again found himself explaining the complexities of a subject he did not teach.

But then he heard the distinctive noise of a shower clicking on upstairs and every coherent thought suddenly went out the window as he imagined Luke stripping down and rinsing the thick layer of grime from his body…

“Mr. Martin. Are you okay?”

Jeff shook his head clear and shifted in his seat. He was an adult, not a horny teenager. He needed to control himself.

“Yes. Sorry. I think that’s enough math for today. Why don’t we move on to a different subject?”

“Okay,” Cam said easily. “I could use some help in government too.”

Jeff nodded and looked over Cam’s assignments. It turned out that Ms. Abeille was making the kids memorize the answers to all 100 questions on the US citizenship test, which Jefferson thought was a bit of overkill, but they were in South Carolina. Government and US History were practically second nature here, and not always in a good way either.

“Give me the paper and I’ll quiz you. Some of them are tricky, but a lot of them really are the most obvious answers, so don’t second guess yourself.”

Cam nodded and the two of them fell more or less back into their familiar rhythm.

“What is the supreme law of the land?” Jeff asked.

“Thou shall not kill?” Cam tried, sheepishly.

“It’s a big old document written and signed by lots of old dead white guys.” Jeff prompted.

“Oh, The Declaration of Independence?”

Jeff bit back a bemused smile as he imagined the declaration being the basis of civil law. Well, as you can see Mr. Lawyer sir, this is a free country. It says so right here in this old and legally binding document, so kindly fuck off.

“Nope. The other one,” he said.

“The Constitution.” Cam stated. His cheeks were red and embarrassed, but at least he’d figured it out

“Ding ding ding!” Jeff called out.

Jeff wrote the answer Cam had struggled with down on the practice sheet for Cam to study from. The answers he needed help with would be marked in red.

As expected, Cam knew a lot more of the answers than he thought he did. Anything with a specific date or location was a miss, but he got most of the easy things like who the president and vice president were, and how long they could serve for. He knew the branches of government, first amendment rights, and even a few of his house representatives. Apparently, those awful smear campaign ads were good for something after all.

About halfway through, Luke came back downstairs, dressed now in a loose-fitting t-shirt and jeans and started helping his son out. It reminded Jeff of one of those game shows that offered a phone-a-friend lifeline, only the game was rigged so that Cam’s lifelines never ran out. It would have been fun if Luke’s half-attentive silhouette in the adjoined kitchen wasn’t so distracting. Jeff kept glancing at his ass as he stood over the stove or the slight flexing of his muscles as he pressed down onto a cutting board with his knife. His hair was also still wet, turning the dirty blond into a light brown and causing a slight sheen of moisture to appear on the back of his neck. Jeff had the very inappropriate urge to lick it off. If he gripped his red pen any tighter, it was bound to explode all over the place.

Meanwhile, Cam was busy trying to name thirteen of the original colonies, completely oblivious to Jeff’s internal struggle.

“Uh, New York...Pennsylvania...and…”

At his hesitation Luke turned away from his sizzling pan and caught Jeff looking at him. The older man gave the teacher a good-natured look that seemed to say, “Kids these days.”

“Hot tip, son,” Luke said, returning his attention to cooking. “You’re sitting in one of them.”

“South Carolina,” Cam said, shaking his head. “Right. I knew that. Sorry. I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot,” Jeff said automatically. “Your brain’s just too caught up in other things to recall all the stuff it already knows. Plus, since we all have smartphones nowadays, our brains have learned to store more factual information in our short-term memory since we can always just look up the answer again later if we need to. The trick is having some sort of memorization technique that moves all this information into the long-term section of your brain. For this one all you need to remember is that the thirteen colonies are basically the entire east coast minus Florida. Easy enough to remember, right?”

Cam nodded.

“Yeah, I guess.”

He still seemed a little down on himself, but that was going to happen. Jeff felt certain that once Cam started to see some actual improvement in his grades, his confidence would skyrocket.

Speaking of confidence, Jeff chose that exact moment to glance up and, in doing so, saw that Luke was staring at him with a curious expression. What little bit of confidence the pep talk had bestowed on him evaporated in an instant and he was back to being a fumbling mess. He wasn’t sure he could continue recalling patriotic facts with Luke looking at him like that.

Luckily, he didn’t have to. A few seconds later Luke called out, “Clear the table boys. Dinner is coming up.”

Jeff tried to help Cam gather up his books and papers, but the young man insisted on doing it himself. Jeff understood the instinct. Cam felt stupid and slightly annoyed that he needed help. The least he could do was clean up his own damn mess. So, Jeff sat still and let him be.

Luke came waltzing in a few moments later with three perfectly assembled plates stacked on top of a silver serving tray; the kind that Jeff had only ever used as decoration.

“Bon appetit,” he said with a winning smile. “Hope you guys are hungry.”

He sat down one plate in front of Cam and then sort of slid another in Jeff’s direction before passing them silverware and carrying his own plate to the head of the table where he then sat down. Jeff stared down at the food, partly because it smelled delicious, partly because his heart was still racing uncomfortably, and he had no idea what to do about it.

The dish seemed rather simple on the surface, just meat and potatoes, but both were expertly cooked and covered in more seasonings than Jeff’s entire spice rack combined.

“It’s maple rosemary pork,” Luke explained. “It’s kind of my specialty.”

Jeff bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying something stupid and got to work cutting a bite sized chunk of the tenderloin.

“You really didn’t have to do all this,” Jeff said. “I would have been fine eating at home.” 

Luke waved it off.

“I was going to make dinner anyway. You just gave me an excuse to make something extra delicious.”

Jeff frowned ever so slightly, still uncomfortable. He’d never been big on family dinners, even before his family disowned him. Occasionally the guys he was dating would invite him to Thanksgiving dinner with their families, but those were pretty much the only times Jeff had ever been invited to a formal sit-down dinner at another person’s house. As with most things in his sad and pathetic life, he didn’t know how to act right.

He brought the pork to his mouth, figuring that the sooner he ate, the sooner he could leave. Then all negative feelings evaporated as flavor enveloped his taste buds. His fists clenched and his eyes went wide.

“Holy sh—” Jeff caught himself just in time. “I mean, dang. That’s. That’s really good.”

He sank lower into his chair, mortified. Cam looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh. Luke was just giving him that same old amused smile. It seemed to be the man’s default expression. Or maybe Jeff just instilled that in him. He had been told by many an ex-boyfriend that he reminded them of a socially inept puppy.

“I’m glad you like it,” Luke said. “Don’t try and ask me for the recipe though. It’s a family secret.”

“The secret is that it came from the internet,” Cam said under his breath.

Luke threw his hand dramatically and said, “Et tu, Brute?”

Cam looked up at his dad blankly, not understanding the reference. Jeff laughed, and the two adults shared a small smile before returning to their meals. The three of them ate in silence for several minutes after that. It was nice at first, but then Jeff got the nagging impression that the Davises were waiting on him to bust in with a topic of conversation, and once he had the thought, he couldn’t turn it off. It was like the seventh circle of anxiety, all up in his mind space.

“So,” Jeff began, loudly clearing his throat, “What do you do, Mr. Davis? Are you a mechanic?”

Then he mentally chided himself for asking such a dumb question. He’d walked in covered in grease. He was either a mechanic, a model, or a porn star. Those were really the only three options.  

“Mr. Davis is my father,” he joked. “Please call me Luke. And yes, I’m actually an aircraft mechanic.”

Jeff’s eyebrows rose involuntarily. That was not the answer he had been expecting, but it made a lot of sense. This big fancy house couldn’t remain perfectly maintained on a regular auto mechanic’s salary, or at least Jeff highly doubted it could.

“Really? How does one become an aircraft mechanic?” he asked, genuinely interested. It sounded like an incredibly detailed and complicated position. He didn’t know how anyone could handle the pressure of knowing that any little mistake they made at work could potentially cause a plane to fall from the sky, dooming everyone onboard.

Luke gestured wildly with his fork.

“Well, basically you can go to a school, join the military, or work under a certified mechanic long enough to be certified yourself. Take a couple of tests, and voila. Airplane man.” He brought his flailing fork to his lips and finally put the cube of pork out of its misery. “I chose the boring trade school route,” he added once he finished chewing.

“How long did that take?” Jeff asked. His curiosity seemed to be momentarily overriding his nerves.

Luke shrugged.

“A couple of years.”

“Why airplanes? Why not…I don't know cars, or boats, or something?”

“Go big or go home,” Luke answered with a grin. “How about you, Mr. Martin? What made you want to become a high school teacher?”

Jeff’s nervousness made a sudden reappearance and he had to fight to keep hold of his fork. He took an overly large bite of food just so that he’d have an excuse not to talk for a minute or so. The lump scraped his throat on the way down and he washed it down with a gulp of water. He could feel Luke’s and Cam’s eyes trained on him and it was making him sweat. How could he sweat when it was still so freaking cold in here?

“I didn’t want to teach,” Jeff explained finally. “At least, not at first. I actually wanted to write novels, but it turned out that I wasn’t very good at it. I had to pay off my student loans somehow, and teaching is one of the easiest jobs you can get with an English degree.” Cam looked shocked by this admission. Jeff guessed he’d previously been under the impression that all teachers go into the field based on passion rather than necessity.

“I don’t regret it though,” Jeff added, offering the teen a small smile. “I think teaching has been good for me. I like being able to make a difference in young people’s lives.”

“Damn, Mr. Martin,” Cam said with his glass held in the air. “That’s some deep shit.”

“Cameron. Language,” Luke chastised, but it was clear that he wasn’t really that mad at it. He had his head rested on his fist and he was looking at Jeff with a somewhat dreamy expression that tied Jeff’s stomach up in knots.

“You said you wanted to be a writer?” Luke asked. “What did you write about?”

“Oh, you know. Just general literary fiction,” Jeff said, because he’d rather die a thousand painful and fiery deaths before admitting to this beautiful man that he wrote cutesy gay romance stories that were so light and fluffy that you could use them as a pillow. In fact, stuffed in a drawer back at the apartment he was pretty sure he had a stack of rejection letters from literary agents all criticizing his lack of conflict. “Like I said, I wasn’t very good at it.”

Luke finished up his meal and laid his fork down across his plate. He shifted in his chair and turned all of his attention to Jeff.

“I hear novels take time,” he said. “I hardly have the patience to fill out paperwork. I can't imagine ever wanting to write a whole book. That's impressive. Maybe the right idea just hasn’t come to you. You might be a novelist yet.”

“Maybe,” Jeff said with a tight half-grin, though he knew in his heart that this was one dream that was never going to come to pass.

“I don’t read very often these days,” Luke continued, none the wiser. “But back in my teens I could down a 500-page fantasy novel in a weekend. Hey, did you ever read the Children of Brownstone series?”

“Yes!” Jeff exclaimed. “Oh my god. I haven’t thought about those books in years. Margaret Appleton is a genius. I can’t believe she never sold the rights or wrote any spinoffs.”

Luke nodded sagely.

“The lady had integrity. I’ll give her that.”

“Yeah.”

Jeff was taken out of his reverie by the sound of Cam’s chair scraping against the tiles as he stood up with his empty plate in hand, ready to excuse himself.

“I’m gonna go study or whatever,” he proclaimed. Jeff thought he looked bored, and a little bit uncomfortable with the adultness of the conversation. “Thanks again for your help, Mr. Martin.”

“Of course,” Jeff said. “Try and study for at least a few more hours tomorrow and I’ll answer any of your questions after rehearsal on Monday.”

Cam nodded and went to go rinse his plate in the sink. Luke didn’t say anything or try to stop him, and a few minutes later, Cam bounded up the stairs and disappeared from sight. The sound of a door creaking shut reverberated all the way through the tall house with an air of finality.

Jeff, now the only one at the table with food left, suddenly felt a bit self-conscious about eating what remained. Luke stood to pour himself a glass of wine and offered to pour Jeff one as well. Jeff gratefully accepted, careful not to brush Luke’s fingers during the exchange. Jeff dutifully finished cleaning his plate and did not look back up at Luke until he was finished. It was probably just his imagination, but there seemed to be a sudden tension filling the room that hadn’t been there before. A childish part of Jeff longed to make up some teacher-y excuse to call Cam back out here to act as a buffer.

Alas, Jeff didn’t do that. He just sucked it up and tried for a joke.

“So, uh. Nice kid you got there,” he said, plastering on a much too wide smile.

Luke grinned.

“Thanks. I made him myself. Did most of the growing on his own though.”

Jeff made a sound that was halfway between a cough and a strangled laugh. Then he attempted to cover it by stuffing the rest of his now-cold pork in his mouth.

“I take it you don’t have any kids at home,” Luke deduced.

Jeff shook his head and finished chewing. 

“Nope, I live alone, but 250 students per day is more than enough for me.”

Luke nodded sagely, as if he couldn’t agree more.

“Alone, huh? So, you’re not married or anything?”

Jeff took a swig of wine, hoping that would excuse the ruddiness of his cheeks.

“I’m single at the moment.”

And I probably always will be, he added on silently.

Luke looked directly at Jeff again and smiled. The older man kept looking long after it was strictly necessary.

“Well those 250 kids sure are lucky to have you.” he said finally.

Jeff cleared his throat and said, “I try.”

The two of them stared at each other in silence for a bit. Jeff suddenly became painfully aware of his empty plate.

“I’m—I’m gonna go rinse this off,” he said, and stood before Luke could offer to take it for him. He needed a moment to gather his thoughts.

Jeff stood on robotic legs and made his way into the kitchen. He stood in front of the sink and methodically ran hot water over his plate and silverware before placing it face down on top of the others. When he was done, he turned off the tap, gripped the edge of the counter top and took a deep breath. This was fine. Everything was just fine. He could do this. He was gonna flirt back, goddammit.

Jeff walked back into the dining room and reclaimed his chair. Then, with a confidence he really didn’t feel, he puffed out his chest and said, “So. Cam mentioned earlier that it was just the two of you here. Does that mean you’re single as well?”

Jeff regretted the words as soon as they were out, but he also desperately wanted to know the answer. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from taking it back.

Luke gave a tight laugh.

“Yeah. I, uh. I haven’t dated anyone seriously since my wife, Cam’s mom, passed a couple of years ago.”

Jeff’s mouth fell open.

“Oh,” he said softly. He didn’t know why that thought hadn’t occurred to him sooner. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

Luke waved off the apology.

“It’s all right. It was cancer. Nothing anybody could have done. I’m just glad she didn’t have to suffer long.”

“Right,” Jeff said, even though that wasn’t right at all. Nothing would ever be right about a story like that. He brought his wine glass to his mouth with shaking hands and allowed his stinging eyes to fall closed. The mention of Luke’s dead wife was like a shock to his system and it made him realize just how wildly inappropriate this all was. Here he was, shamelessly flirting with one of his student’s straight fathers in his own home, and while his son was still in the house. He was doing it on his own time and everything, and not as a part of a school sponsored event. The more he thought about it, the more awful he felt.

“Is everything all right?” Luke asked after a while.

Jeff opened his eyes and stared down at the table. He didn’t know what to say so he just shook his head and shrugged.

“I’m sorry,” Luke continued, “I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, maybe I shouldn't have brought that up—”

“No, no, it's all right, it's um…” Jeff sucked in air through his teeth and made himself look up at Luke.

“It’s not that,” he lied. “I just…remembered I have some papers to grade. I uh, I promised some students I would have the grades for these assignments posted tomorrow.”             

“Oh,” Luke said, clearly seeing through the lie, but he was too polite to say anything. “Well, let me walk you out at least.”

Jeff wanted to protest, but he also didn’t want to make even more of a scene than he already had, so he gave a solemn nod and gathered up all his things.

Luke led him outside and followed him down the walkway. The outside world was filled with the sounds of animals and humming power lines, but the silence between Jeff and Luke felt cavernous. Jeff figured it was probably for the best.

When they reached his truck, Jeff unlocked it with the press of a button and slid his belongings inside, not really caring where they ended up as long as they made it home with him. Then, against his better judgment, he turned to face Luke one final time.

“Well it was nice meeting you, Mr. Martin,” he said with a small smile and a light southern drawl.

Jeff stuffed his hands in his pockets and said, “You can call me Jeff.”

Although, what he really wanted to say was “please don’t ever talk to me again because I’m an emotionally unstable wreck.”

Luke nodded, his eyes glinting with an earthy green color in the moonlight.

“All right Jeff. Get home safely. Thanks again for stopping by.”

Jeff nodded.

“Don’t mention it.”

At that, he walked around the driver’s side and climbed in.

“Thanks for dinner!” he called out before starting the engine, because even if he was heartbroken he was still going to be polite.

He got about three blocks away before the fat tears started rolling down his face. He felt stupid and hurt and like he was suddenly mourning the loss of a relationship that had never even happened. That would never even happen.

He had to face the fact that there just wasn’t anyone out there for him. Just assholes like Manny and unavailable guys like Luke. This was just how Jeff worked. He fell hard and fast and always for the wrong people.

Maybe he needed to invest in that hypothetical cat after all, because otherwise, it seemed like he was destined to die alone.