Chapter 2
J-Rod
Trent opened his groggy green eyes (they could only make it to the halfway point) and took in the blurry surroundings. The grubby room and shabby mattress at the Sunnyside Lodge were gone, replaced with coziness that one’s own bed and cologne-ingrained pillows could muster.
Stretching, Trent yawned. He had planned on sleeping in, since his trip from Miami left him feeling drained both mentally and physically. Speaking of the latter, he wondered if Tony was being more productive than he was that Sunday morning.
Probably already up and busy working, Trent thought. He seemed like the type.
Trent also wondered if the guy would have any explaining to do to his boss, should any of their pre-motel escapades make it onto the service station’s security cameras.
Who are you kidding? Trent shrugged off. The bossman didn’t even have modern pumps, what makes you think he’d have video cameras? Homing pigeons, maybe. Cameras, definitely not.
Not that it mattered to Trent one bit. He’d been caught on so many different cameras that opening a web page was a viable option, but he didn’t want Tony getting into trouble, or the shit kicked out of him. Folks in places like that liked to keep their small minds on even shorter leashes. He’d have to go back one day and check on …
“Yo Trent, you up?” came a deep voice from down the hall. It was his roommate Jared Hughes.
Good thing I didn’t plan on sleeping in, J-Rod!
“Yeah,” Trent called, his voice crackled from dehydration.
“I’m cooking some chicken before I head over to see Greg. He’s still all sorts of shook up from a couple of weeks ago. Want something while I got pans dirty?”
“Sure, sure!” Trent replied, flinging the covers off the bed. Naked, he shuffled over to his chrome dresser, pausing to look at his disheveled self in the mirror. God you look like shit, he thought, finger-combing out the major kinks in his hair and beard.
Nabbing a pair of red short shorts from the middle drawer, he wrestled them on, junk falling to one side but not out of the bottom – barely.
“Hey beautiful, can you put on some coffee too while you’re at it?”
“Already got you covered, lazy hole.”
“Aw, if you weren’t such a dick, J-Rod, I’d marry you.”
“Spare me the agonizing thought, please!”
A few minutes later, Trent rounded the stairs into the decorative kitchen, spotting Jared by the stove with a cast iron skillet and a pair of tongs. He was shorter yet stockier than Trent was, dressed in a pair of form fitting khakis and a tight, short sleeve Henley. Even though it was black, his thick back resembled a flared cobra (not that Trent was in any way jealous of that at all. No way).
“You know, if those were any shorter you’d be naked,” Jared observed, pointing toward Trent’s shorts. He could definitely see parts of his roommate peeking out like a shy toad in a hole (which that thing was anything but).
“Don’t be jealous,” Trent retorted pulling out the centermost of three barstools. He sat and indeed, in that position those shorts could not contain him. Hell, they probably couldn’t contain anyone with a strip of fabric that narrow.
“Oh, I’m not,” Jared said, running his fingers through dark, longish hair. He noticed something else about Mr. Cassidy. “Um, Trent? Did you dye your hair?”
“Yeah, dark brown. So?” Trent asked sharply.
“Just wondering, since it looks so close to your natural color. Why even bother?”
“Well, the comp cards that were sent to that agency had older pictures and I was sporting a different look at the time. Just wanted to make sure I matched the stats.”
“Compulsively needed to more like,” Jared replied. He flipped a couple of chicken breasts that were sizzling away. “I bet Lavonda charged an arm and a leg, or a third leg, for that too. You know, sometimes your OCD manages to slay mine, bro, and that’s saying something. I seriously wonder how you breathe during the day without stressing about the number of oxygen molecules you’re intaking.”
Trent scoffed. “‘Molecules,’ he says. That’s a word you and your khakified-college ass would love to have shoved up there right next to ‘compulsively.’”
“Geez, not this again, man.” Jared rolled his blue eyes before they settled back on the stove.
“Well, J-Rod, we can’t all be perfect like good ol’ Mr. Hughes now, can we?”
Though Trent was prodding, Jared didn’t look like he was going to take the bait and entertain him that morning.
Grease splattered on his hand, and Jared grumbled something under his breath. Walking to a nearby cabinet, he pulled out two plates, loading each with a cup of rice out of the steamer. He then returned to the stove, put chicken on the plates, and handed one off to Trent.
“Figured you might need it after your festivities in Miami,” Jared said. “Here, take this too.”
Trent snatched the fork away, replying, “Thanks, though I’ll have you know I didn’t do anything in Miami.”
“I know you and your technicalities all too well. You might not have done something in Miami, but I know that someone got a taste of Trent on this venture. You can’t go a day without that thing starving to death.”
“Whatever,” Trent said, shoving a hefty helping of protein into his mouth. It was over-salted. No wonder you look so bloated all the time, J.
“Needs more salt,” Jared stated. He sprinkled a few more dashes over his plate. “Oh, by the way, guess who I got a call from the other day?
Trent shrugged.
“Jonny!”
Trent’s lighthearted thoughts about a bloated Jared became an instant burst of happiness. It’d only been a week or so since Jonny Cameron had stayed over during spring break. The slender guy left quite an impression with them over that time, leading the roommates into territory even Trent didn’t realize he knew about.
Tony sure benefitted from that, Trent thought before turning his attention back to their boy. “How is the lil’ dude?”
“Doing well,” Jared answered. “Missing us a lot, of course.”
“Me more, probably.”
“Funny, he didn’t say that. Anyway, classes are kicking his ass like they are mine, but he did say that he was excited about coming back here once they were all done in a couple of months.”
Trent swung his gaze toward Jared, who did the same. There was some awkward tension between the two of them.
“Glad to hear it!” Trent said. “Hopefully he can stay a little longer than a week this time.”
“I hope so, but…”
Trent waited for an immediate follow up but the pause was too long for anything good to come out of Jared’s mouth next.
“Buttttt…” Trent repeated with caution.
“But he’s not going to be coming alone this time.”
Trent didn’t know what to think right away. He was unsure he wanted anyone else in on the intimate thing they had going on. More was not the merrier.
“Who?”
“Nobody interested in you for that,” Jared continued.
“Well cocky-fucking-do, J-Rod, you still haven’t told me who!”
“It’s his uncle. I can’t really remember a name – I was more in tune with talking to Jonny about… other stuff.”
“Well shit. What’s he want? You said he wasn’t interested in me for that.” Trent had his foot up on one of the stool’s cross-supports. His whole leg started shaking.
“Your franchise,” Jared said. “He wants to talk to you about that. Seems like you’ve got a guaranteed facility over in Marshall, should you want it.”
Trent perked up, his serious face on. “Really?”
Jared nodded, still seasoning his chicken.
“Well damn, that’s great news. I was planning to take the day off, but I think I’ll head over to the office and at least pull some preliminary paperwork. It’ll be dead in there apart from Will…”
Trent’s voice trailed off at the mention of Will’s name.
“You okay? Will?”
“Huh?” Trent said, snapping back to reality. “Oh, yeah, Will Marsh. Huge mofo who trains at Swole. Eats three kids like Jonny for breakfast.”
“Sounds like a scary dude. You know, Jonny and his uncle won’t be here for a couple of months. I think you can definitely risk a day off.”
“Yeah, I know, but you know how I get when I have something on my mind and get cooped up inside. Besides, I don’t want to bother you and Greg.”
“No worries there; you won’t. We’re not planning on coming back here. I just want to take him to lunch and the movies. Something, anything to get his mind off things.”
“I got coupons that could help. Buy one get one free snacks and outright freebie hot dogs!” The look on Trent’s face was borderline insane.
Jared’s expression became wrinkled like a wad of used paper. “You worry me Trent. Thanks, but I think we’ll be okay.”
“Suit yourself,” he said. “More for me then. What time are you heading out?”
Jared craned his neck to look at the wall clock. “About half an hour.”
“Cool. I’m going to finish this chicken and head over to the office, probably pick up a smoothie too.”
“Hopefully not bananas,” Jared laughed. It was obnoxiously loud.
No, but hopefully this shitty salt block will free up my taste buds by then, Trent mentally jabbed.
He watched as Jared took the last bite of chicken on his plate, which was salted at least five times during their conversation.
“Ah,” Jared said proudly. “Now that is perfect.”