Nick sat his cellphone down on the bench next to him, grinning.

His legs were sore from the walking he’d done. Mendocino was beautiful in a way that Kansas wasn’t—don’t get him wrong, Nick was usually the first person to remind his friends that the wheat fields and gold summers were a beautiful way to spend their lives. But where Poplar was shades of orange and gold, streaks of yellow and brown, nothing but warm tones, Mendocino was deep blues and greens. He’d hiked along the cliffs going near the ocean all day, thankful as hell that none of his things had been stolen when he’d made it back to his car that morning.

And with the sights as amazing as they were, Nick would have thought he’d have shoved his phone in a forgotten backpack for the whole trip. But instead, it turned out that the company Nick had taken with him somehow was the best thing about the day, ocean be damned.

He stretched out his legs and put his arms head, fingers interlocking as he leaned back into his grip. He didn’t think when Joel had handed him his phone number that they’d spend the whole day texting but—

Well, Nick wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Joel was fascinating.

Nick had never met a man like Joel before. Sure, there were rugged family men back in Poplar—he swore he only saw the sheriff, Sam Carlisle, if he had a football in one hand and a baby in the other—but there was something different about Joel.

The man was hilarious, for starters. Every text he sent Nick had him rolling, easily able to imagine his deadpan expression as he sarcastically whipped out whatever would shut Nick up the fastest. He’d have been offended by it if it wasn’t always so funny and if Nick didn’t absolutely know that he was only knocking Nick out to see how quick Nick would jump back in.

Their conversations felt like a game that he’d been trying to play his whole life but no one ever knew the rules—until Joel. Joel seemed like he’d been playing all along.

The sun was starting to dip lower, not quite so bright and warm anymore. It was nearly five o’clock and he was exhausted. His phone was dipping close to only twenty percent and it was probably a good thing that Joel had stopped replying, even if he was technically disappointed.

He looked out at the beach. It was so nice here. He couldn’t imagine anyone coming here and then wanting to leave.

Nick was glad that Drew had ended up changing his mind about coming to California after he met Peter. He wouldn’t have wanted to be around for that wrench in their relationship.

Although the husbands were disgustingly cute and probably would have just opened two branches of Amelia’s and split their time. He didn’t think there was any other couple Nick knew that were so devoted to each other—maybe Matt and Sebastian, but they still had a few years to catch up to Drew and Peter.

Nick wondered if he’d ever have someone like that.

He jumped when his phone rang. His heart started hammering in his chest and he decidedly did not think Joel’s name in a chanting mantra when he reached for it with shaking hands.

Peter’s name stood out on the caller I.D.

Nick tried very hard not to be disappointed.

“Hey, man,” he said, wincing when his tone sounded defeated. “Speak of the devil.”

“You were talking about me?” Peter’s cheerful voice was emphasized, as it always was, with the clanging of pots and pans. He must have been in the kitchen of his restaurant.

“Well, thinking.”

“Good enough!” He said. “I’m just calling to check in. How’s it going?”

“Great!” Nick perked up a little, his initial disappointment gone. “Have you been getting my texts? I’ve been sending pictures to the group chat.”

“Yeah, yeah!” Nick could imagine Peter nodding emphatically, the phone lodged between his ear and shoulder. “It looks amazing. Drew is jealous!”

“You guys should come visit for your anniversary. It’s so beautiful, man.”

“It looks it! Tell me everything.”

Nick grinned and launched off into the story. He told him all about the drive and the places that had good burgers—nowhere near as good as yours, though, Pete, don't worry—and how he basically just drove straight and attempted not to get distracted. Then he told him about the beach and the cliffs and little Janie in the water, how funny Joel was, the way that Janie stomped through the house with enough energy that Nick thought they all should apologize to every parent they knew in advance.

He couldn’t quite describe the feeling in their house—the comforting, airy feeling it had that he had just never really experienced. His own apartment was nice and his mom’s house was obviously home, but something about Joel’s was light and promising. It felt like Sunday mornings, right after he’d wake up and be contemplating what he could do with the entirety of his own, empty day—it was something really nice. And it was something that was clearly a Joel and Janie thing. He could tell, after texting with Joel all day, that the feeling of clean, sharp wonderment was just something he carried around with him and offered easily to whoever wanted to listen.

It was really remarkable, how quiet a guy that offered that much could be. Nick couldn’t place his finger on it, but he knew that the guys back home would love him. He’d really get on with Matt, Nick realized, halfway through a story.

“Nick—Nick!” Peter called his name, interrupting Nick.

Nick blinked, mouth slamming shut mid-sentence. He frowned, even though Peter couldn't see him. “Yeah?”

“You’ve been ranting about that guy for the last twenty minutes without even taking a breath. I was afraid you were going to pass out.”

“Oh, shut up,” Nick said automatically, pulling the phone back to check the time. His battery was at five percent and it had been thirty-five minutes since Peter had called. Shit. “Oops.”

“So,” he said, his voice a lilt above friendly.

Nick narrowed his eyes at the horizon. “What? My phone’s about to die. What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Peter hedged. “It just—do you like him?”

His chest heaved as his heart stopped for a second. One beat, then two, and then his heartbeat was back, hammering with a vengeance in revenge for skipping the previous beats.

“Who?” Nick dismissed, ignoring the way his breath felt lighter. Stupid uncontrollable and irrelevant bodily responses.

“Don’t play dumb,” Peter said. “Joel. The amazing omelette maker and father of the girl I’m a little afraid you illegally adopted.”

“Shut up,” Nick repeated his earlier sentiment. “I do not like him.”

“You definitely like him,” Peter disagreed.

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“What? Horseshit, of course you do. You like him. You’ve got a big old crush on him.”

“I do not! I barely like—I mean, know. I barely know him.”

Peter’s raucous laughter was punctuated by the beeping of his dying phone. “You like him a lot—” Peter’s voice cut off as the phone died. Nick pulled it back and looked at it, the black screen blank.

Nick cursed under his breath and shoved his phone in his pocket. Goddammit. Peter had gotten the last word.

Nick did not like Joel. Yes, he found him fascinating, and fun, and, okay, Nick wasn’t a complete dumbass, he knew the guy was clearly smart and capable and a good father and hot as hell but—

But what? Nick glared at the sea. Its color paled in comparison to his memory of Joel’s eyes.

He groaned out loud to himself. That was not a productive thought. He needed to stop having thoughts like that because they made him feel sappy and smitten and tons of other words that he definitely, decidedly was not.

He didn’t like Joel. He just liked—

Well, fine, screw it. Nick did kind of like Joel. But that was dumb and irrelevant and he was going to pretend like he didn’t. He was only here for a week and, really, how much longer was Joel going to be okay with him squatting in his office? The guy hadn’t kicked him out yet but he was sure the time was coming.

He wasn’t really sure if he was even allowed to come back tonight. But considering his phone was dead and he really wanted to, he was going to.

The sun was bleeding down the horizon and Nick pretended like it was the chill in the air that had him packing it in and calling it a day.

He drove back towards the beach house, careful to pay attention to a barely-remembered route. Suddenly, Nick was convinced he didn’t actually know the way back to Joel and Janie and he’d never find their house. They’d think he just up and left and Janie would never forgive him for not saying goodbye.

He was halfway through a mournful speech he would probably only get the chance to say at his own funeral, because of course, this would be the kind of unfinished business that made him haunt his own funeral, when he saw the house up at the end of the road.

He ignored the heat rushing up his neck and burning his cheeks, embarrassed at how quickly he gave into his dramatic ghost-filled future, and parked the car carefully next to the little hatchback. It was a small, cute car that would have looked dumpy next to something new, but shined brightly next to the junker.

Nick cut off the engine and pretended like he didn’t like the way that looked.

He decided to leave his bags in the car in case Joel kicked him out. It would be easier to pretend like this was just him stopping by to say goodbye if he didn’t bring his luggage with him. A smoother, less embarrassing exit. It probably wouldn’t be graceful—neither Nick or Janie had it in them, he didn’t think, but it would be at least not be pathetic, if he could help it.

Nick climbed out of the car, nervously, and shrugged out his shoulders. He pocketed his keys and stretched before walking over to the door, wondering how terribly awkward it would be to knock. He decided on a simple double-rapt pattern and then raised his fist.

The door creaked open the second his knuckles lightly touched the wood. Apparently, it hadn’t been closed in the first place.

It swung open pretty easily and Nick stood there, mouth as open as the door, with his fist still in the air.

He could see straight into the house. Janie sat on the couch with her legs drawn up beneath her, eyes shut, as Joel sat on the coffee table in front of her, leaning towards her and reading from a book. He couldn't hear what Joel was saying but Janie seemed to be nodding every few seconds and he kept flickering his gaze between the book and Janie as if to make sure she was following.

Her homework, maybe. She seemed a little too rebellious to be okay with a bedtime story, especially at five-thirty.

Janie frowned and Joel looked up immediately as if feeling it. Even from over outside, Nick could hear her groan “I don’t get that part” and Joel’s quick reply of “That’s okay, me either. Let’s start this part over.”

Pretend like you don’t like him, pretend like you don’t like him, pretend like you don’t like him.

Nick repeated the mantra in his head over and over again, rocking back on his heels as he tried to squash the sentence into being through sheer, unadulterated force.

It was fairly useless. Half of his head was singing the mantra, pretend like you don’t like him, pretend, pretend, pretend, while the other half was going, holy shit, they’re so goddamn cute, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

The two sides warred against each other. Nick leaned against the doorframe, feeling his heart squeeze in his chest and a smile he was only partially in charge of stretch widely across his face. They were so adorable.

Holy shit.

Something unfurled in his chest, a little like homesickness. He wanted to cross the space and sit next to them and feel that unbeatable contentedness that the smell of the ocean and Janie’s laugh kept bringing to him. A small, winding thought worked its way through his defenses. It reminded him that the point of this trip was to find something more, to be something better. He couldn’t shake the urge that maybe that something was a few feet away.

He watched them for another minute before Janie rolled her head and her eyes focused on him. She jumped, startling Joel, and they both turned to look at him in surprise.

Nick’s heart hammered at being caught. He stared at them with wide eyes.

“Nick!” Janie broke the silence first and jumped up. “Nick, you’re back!”

“Hi, Janie!” He didn’t try to fight this grin, rubbing a hand through her hair and mussing it up when she skidded to a stop a few feet away from him. She ducked away from his hand whining and he laughed.

Joel cleared his throat and Nick’s head snapped up, swallowing hard.

Joel stood halfway between the couch and the door, hands half raised. “Um, hi.”

“Hi,” Nick winced at how quick and high the word came out. Janie looked between them but neither of them managed to tear their gaze away long enough to clear the awkwardness out of the air.

“You’re here,” Joel said, unnecessarily. He frowned.

Nerves danced across Nick’s skin. “I could—not be?”

“No,” Joel said quickly and simultaneously as Janie emphatically called out, “Nope!”. Joel glanced at her, his frown softening into a more natural expression. “Come on in.”

Janie stepped aside eagerly and closed the door behind him with a slam. He almost wondered if she’d left the door open for him on purpose.

“We were just going over chemistry,” Janie said with a snarl. She looked down at the abandoned chemistry book as if it smelled offensive. “I hate chemistry.”

Joel hummed. “I have to admit, I’m not a fan of it, either.”

“Sorry, kiddo,” Nick shrugged. “I know this would be an ideal time for me to come to the rescue and help you, but I gotta tell you, I only passed my chemistry class in high school because of my friend Damien. I’m about as smart a cracker.”

“Is that even a saying?” Janie rolled her eyes and flipped through the book, frowning at it.

Nick chuckled. “Who knows. Aren’t you too young to be doing chemistry anyway?”

Janie’s head snapped up and Joel groaned, shaking his head at her. Janie pointed her finger angrily at him. “That’s what I said!”

“I don’t make the curriculum, Janie!” Joel said it with the threadbare patience of a man who had been repeating himself for days.

“Dictators, all of them,” she muttered to herself.

Nick only barely managed to swallow his laugh. He covered it behind a cough, hiding his smile with his fist.

Joel nodded towards the kitchen and Nick followed him to the counter. Joel poured him a cup of coffee without asking and said, unprompted, “Did you pack for this trip or will you merely buy one outfit at a time?”

Nick frowned, coffee mug forgotten halfway to his mouth. He looked down at himself. “Um, what?”

“Clothing. Luggage. Did you pack?”

“Um, yes?” Nick wasn’t sure that was the right answer. He felt like it was a trap.

But Joel just smiled, a half quirk of his lips that was barely noticeable, and shrugged one shoulder. “You could bring your things in, then. For the night, if you wanted.”

Surprise shot through Nick, and then pleasure. He grinned wide. “Okay.”

“After this coffee,” Joel added.

Nick’s smile softened and he sat down on the empty stool. “After this coffee.”

And if they both drank their coffees a little slower than necessary, well, Nick wasn’t going to point it out.