His hands shook as he aggressively fought with the egg on the skillet. He scrubbed with the sponge, ignoring the way his whole body was still vibrating.

His knees and inner thighs still burned from the contact of Nick’s legs pressed against his. It was a phantom touch that refused to budge even after he pushed away from the touch and was standing as far away as the little kitchen would allow.

Nick was—

Interesting.

He was an interesting man. He never quite reacted the way Joel thought he would. There was something about him that kept Joel on his toes. Like that he worked in a bar—Joel wouldn’t have thought that. He seemed too nice for that, too sweet.

A question pushed hard against the edge of his thoughts: he wondered what it would look like if Nick wasn’t so nice and sweet.

He fought harder with the dirty dishes.

Joel hadn’t made a friend in a long time. After Angela, if he wasn’t with Janie, he was pouring himself into work. They didn’t really have any extended family and his business associates were friendly but not the kind of people Joel would go grab a beer with. He wasn’t really the kind of guy to go grab a beer in general.

He tended to not get out much or spend his time with new people. He had forgotten what it felt like to make a new friend—did it always make people this nervous? He didn’t remember his chest feeling like it was going to cave in the last time he’d made a friend. But, hell, that had been over a decade ago, and Joel was probably just nervous.

He owed Nick a lot. And he was a practical stranger. He barely knew anything about him except that Janie seemed enthralled.

There was just something about him.

Joel couldn’t put his finger on it. He probably needed to sleep more.

Eventually, there wasn’t any more washing he could do to the dishes. He laid them in the drying rack and turned around, drying his hands on a tea towel. He glanced around and then stared at the time on the microwave clock.

“Oh, God,” he groaned, throwing the towel behind his shoulder. He heard it smack into the faucet. “How the hell is it ten?”

Nick looked up, surprised. “That is impossible.”

“Apparently not,” Joel said, shaking his head. He glanced back at the clock. 10:12. God, the morning had gotten away from him. “I have to start work.”

Nick was still staring at the clock with a frown, as well. “I have exploring to do.”

Joel’s lips quirked and he quickly smoothed the smile away. “Anything you plan on doing in particular?”

“No,” Nick said, finally moving his gaze back to Joel. A little spark flew up his spine at the attention. “Just some general vacation stuff.”

Joel folded his arms across his chest, leaning against the sink. “That’s right. How long are you here for?”

He didn’t specify Mendocino instead of his house. Maybe he should add that on, make sure that Nick knew the offer for housing was only a one night thing.

Nick smiled, though, and he decided not to say anything. “I’ve got about a week of vacation before I need to head back. I drove here so it’ll take a little while to get back to Poplar.”

“Kansas?” Joel asked.

Nick nodded. “Yeah, it’s a small town like an hour from Wichita.”

Joel shrugged. “Haven’t heard of it.”

“You wouldn’t have,” Nick said, sighing heavily. “It’s incredibly small.”

“Mendocino is small, too,” Joel said, gesturing towards the window.

Nick rolled his eyes. “But this is beach small. That’s different.”

Joel didn’t really see how that worked. “If you say so.”

“I do,” Nick said, confidently. He pushed off from the counter and stretched. His arms went high above his head, his t-shirt rising a little. Joel looked away quickly. “Any recommendations of places to go?”

Joel considered. “There’s a nice scenic drive down the coast you could do. Or some state parks.”

Nick hummed noncommittally. “That sounds good.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I guess I’ll get going.”

Joel jumped a little and grabbed a pad and pen from near the phone. He scribbled down his cell number and ripped the page out. He shoved it towards Nick. “My phone number. In case you need something.”

Nick grinned. He accepted the page and lifted it as if it was a prize. He shook it in the air a little. “Thank God. Now if I get arrested, I don’t have to wait for bail from Kansas.”

Joel laughed. “Glad to know you have a plan.”

“Always doin’ my best,” Nick drawled, a twang of an accent lighting the words up from the inside. It

Joel’s stomach flipped. He shifted on his feet and rolled his eyes, ignoring it. “Just—go explore.”

Nick turned his head and laughed. His cheeks were puffed as he grinned and his freckles stood out against the pink flush. “Okay, okay.”

He patted his pockets before waving and heading out of the house. Joel watched him go and ignored the warring going on in his throat.

Nick seemed comfortable here, in Joel’s home. He left easily, without acknowledging whether or not he’d be back. Joel knew he didn’t leave anything behind—the man had showed up dripping wet with nothing but the clothes on his back, and he was wearing them again. For all he knew, he’d never see Nick again.

Something pinged in his chest. It was like a sharp tack, poked quickly on the tip of his finger. He rubbed a hand against his chest to soothe the sudden ache.

“Weird,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head at his body’s odd reaction to Nick’s departure.

Joel decided to ignore it. He had things to do and none of those things involved obsessing over a stranger he didn’t want in the house anyway. He was grateful to Nick for saving Janie and, yes, he did sort of enjoy their morning, but he didn’t actually care.

Satisfied he’d be fine never seeing the man again, he turned the radio up louder and wiped down the counter. He put the dishes away and all the extra food that had been scattered around from his breakfast cooking.

With that done, Joel went to his office to star this work day. He ignored the crumpled blankets on the futon in the corner.

It was hours after he’d normally begin. His To Do list looked longer than it normally did, each item mockingly important. He groaned and pulled up his emails, flicking through them as he scribbled down notes on his work pad for anything he needed to pay attention to immediately.

He had two crews on site today, one all the way in San Francisco and the other local in town. He called their leads, checking to make sure it was all on schedule and there weren’t any unforeseen complications with the projects.

The rest of his day spiraled down from there. By the time he finished calling all the people he had to talk to and argued his San Francisco tile guy down a few cents, Joel was exhausted.

He was halfway through a draft proposal for a new client when his cell phone buzzed on the desk, startling him from his work.

He frowned at the text message tone. The only people who texted him were Janie, who was at school and wouldn’t be texting him even if she was on her phone, and Paul, his part-time assistant. Paul was on vacation for the month, though, and unless he was quitting for good, he wouldn’t be texting Joel on a random Monday.

His breath hitched in his throat and he glanced over at the crumpled blankets, swallowing hard around the little feeling of sparks in his gut. A burst of something faintly like excitement shot through him.

He grabbed his phone hesitantly and tapped in his passcode, waiting. He had three new messages from an unknown number.

He straightened in his chair and opened the messages quickly.

This is the most amazing thing I have ever seen and I am never leaving this spot.

Then there was a photo underneath of the water. The waves were washing up on the sand and two long, jean-clad legs were in the snapshot, as if the camera was just pointing straight out.

The last message made Joel laugh.

Also, this is Nick, by the way. Hey.

Joel grinned and held the phone between his hands, unsure. Then he shook his head and started to type back.

Hello, Nick. You will need to move eventually. The tide will rise.

His thumb hesitated over the send button. This was a dumb message. He shouldn’t say that—he shouldn’t say anything, Nick’s message didn’t demand a reply.

He hit send and then slammed the phone on the desk, face down.

Joel picked up his pen and twirled it around his fingers.

His phone buzzed again and he accidentally chucked the pen across the room, watching it with surprise as it flew into the wall across from him. His cheeks burned and he was glad no one was around to see it.

He grabbed the phone and bit the inside of his cheek.

Shouldn’t you be working?

He texted back quickly. Yes. And yet here I am, trying to keep you from being swept into the ocean.

The reply was instantaneous. DW. You can come save me.

There was a string of pictures after that, some shaped like waves, some shaped like various muscle poses, one as a little man swimming. Joel hadn’t realized anyone older than Janie would use emojis in a text.

I believe you.

There was a predictive text option to add a smiley face. Joel hesitated for a moment before tapping on it and sending the message.

Three dots appeared, showing him that Nick was texting back.

They went back and forth effortlessly after that. When Nick didn’t make fun of the way he texted or his use of emojis, Joel found himself relaxing a little bit and thinking less about what he wrote before he sent it.

It was nice, actually. Joel liked having someone in the background of his day, someone to text about frustrating clients and when he got a sale on wood so good that it bordered on stealing. Nick told him about his day in Mendocino and his observations about the locals he ran into.

More often than not, Joel found himself fully ignoring his computer and just focusing on the quips and jokes that Nick sent him.

Talking to Nick like this felt effortless. It was easier when he wasn’t just a few inches away from him, looking at him with stupidly blue eyes and a nervous happiness that didn’t make sense. Joel hadn’t had anyone to complain about the slow computer or annoying tile salesman in a long time. And Nick was a good person for this—each remark was met with excitement and followed up by a realization of his own, a comment on the food or the sand or any of the other things that piqued his interest.

The day passed smoothly and quietly, the way laying on the couch with a blanket felt. He hadn’t had a work day go so quickly and smoothly before.

It wasn’t until his phone alerted him to a nearly dead battery that Joel actually realized how much time he’d actually spent texting Nick.

He blinked down at it, surprised, and stood to go plug it in. He’d left his charger in his bedroom. After standing, his bones cracked and his stomach growled.

Joel glanced at the clock; it was just after four. He’d spent the whole day at his desk. Janie would be home soon.

He went and plugged his phone in before going to the kitchen and opening the fridge.

He’d decided on slicing some apples when the front door opened and he heard Janie’s bag fall to the ground with an unceremonious thump. He assumed the following groan and thump came from her body slamming into the couch.

“Hi, sweetie,” he sat the apples on the counter, looking over at her. As predicated, she was face down on the couch, her legs hanging off the edge. He swallowed a laugh. “The day was that good, huh?”

She didn’t lift her head but made a protesting sound into the cushion. He grabbed a knife and cutting board, starting to carefully slice the apple in pieces away from the core.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, flickering his gaze from the knife to his lump of a daughter. “I’m making a snack.”

That, at least, made her push herself up into a sitting position. Her eyeliner was smudged across her face, creating two messy, dark, raccoon-like circles under her eyes. She was a little bit adorable, even in her angry, rebelling phase. She tilted her chin up and narrowed her eyes at him. “What’re you making?”

He bit back his smile. “Apple slices.”

She perked up further, leaning up on her knees. “With honey?”

“Could do,” he shrugged one shoulder and pushed the cutting board with apple closer to the seats of the stool. “Come here.”

She hopped off the couch and padded over, sliding into her stool and grabbing a slice. She bit it in half before he could grab the honey from the cabinet and offer it to her.

“School was rough?” He asked, leaning across the counter. He rested his elbow on the counter so his head could fall into his hand, the other one sneaking over to the board to grab a slice for himself.

Janie shook her head, shoving nearly a whole slice in her mouth. “It was fine.”

He pointed his half eaten slice at her full mouth. “Gross,” he said firmly, ignoring her wicked grin. “Why are you groaning and throwing backpacks then?”

Janie rolled her eyes. “Because I’m a teenager, that’s what we do.”

He laughed. “Fair enough.”

A smile quirked Janie’s lips. Victory. “How was your day, Dad?”

Joel looked at her in surprise. She fidgeted under the scrutiny so he stopped trying to figure out why she was suddenly interested in him. “It was—good, thanks, Jane.”

She fidgeted some more. “You just seem like you’re in a good mood.”

His eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Oh, I do?”

“Yeah,” Janie nodded. “You never smile this much.”

He blinked. “I’m not—smiling.”

“You are, too,” she frowned up at him and tapped his cheek. He could feel his face burn a little. “I don’t know why you’re arguing with me.”

“I’m not!” he lifted one hand and shook his head. “Fine, fine, I’m smiling.”

“Why?” She narrowed her eyes and then suddenly looked around the room, leaning back on the stool to peak down the hallway.

He sighed, reaching over to grab her hand and keep her from tumbling backwards when her grip slipped. He yanked her back up and she smiled sheepishly. “What are you doing, Jane?”

“I’m just—I was wondering. Is Nick still here?”

His face, heated up. “No.”

“No?” Janie’s face fell. “Why not?”

“I don’t know, Janie,” he said, gesturing widely. “Probably because he came here for some reason besides hiding away in a stranger’s house.”

Janie pouted, crossing her arms. “Well, is he coming back?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t say.” Joel doesn’t add that he didn’t ask Nick to stay, but that he’d been quietly hoping all day that the man would tell him he’d be back. That he’d purposefully never told him not to come back, even though the invitation was supposed to be for one night only.

Janie sighed and grabbed another piece of apple. She dipped it in the honey and chewed thoughtfully. Joel went over and scooped up the backpack she’d abandoned by the doorway and brought it to her.

“Homework,” he said pointedly and though she rolled her eyes, she did start pulling books out of the bag.

She started scribbling in a notebook and then said, “I hope Nick comes back.”

Joel hummed and busied himself with making a pot of coffee, ignoring the niggling thought tapping at his skull.

I hope so, too.