Roommate Arrangement (Divorced Men's Club #1)(42)

I don’t want to share him, and I’m starting to feel … something. But what the hell do I have for Beau to be interested in? If there’s anything my marriage taught me, it’s that love is never enough.

Trusting someone again won’t be easy, and the thought of a relationship after what I’ve been through is exhausting. All I can see are the long years ahead of me. The years that were supposed to be spent with one person.

What happens if I jump into something serious and find myself in this exact position at fifty-two? I can’t go through it again.

But, on the other hand … Beau.

Ford lets me off half an hour early. He claims it’s because I’m done for the day, but I’m pretty sure he’s sick of my attitude, and I really can’t blame him. I’d worry about him firing me if he didn’t seem to like me so much.

I order a coffee at the café, then head inside Killer Brew and climb the stairs behind the bar to reach the mezzanine level. It’s a large, open wood-and-steel space. One side has a hall that leads to Art’s office, and the right side of the room has a small bar for functions. Straight ahead under the large mullioned windows is a lounge area, where Art and Griffin are waiting.

Art chuckles when he sees me. “What’s going on with you?”

“Am I that obvious?” I ask, sitting opposite them.

“Your message saying ‘help, I’ve done a stupid thing’ was a good clue.”

Fair point. On both counts.

“What’s wrong?” Griffin asks.

“This conversation would work better over beer than coffee.”

“That bad, huh?”

I rub my face with both hands, wondering how much to say. These guys won’t spread anything around, I know that, and I could use a hand on how to proceed here.

“Everything I’m about to say is between us.”

Art nods. “Obviously.”

“Beau has a thing for me,” I say.

To my surprise, neither of them looks shocked. Instead, Griffin scowls. “Dammit, now I owe Orson twenty bucks.”

“What?”

“That day we saw him here, he bet me that Beau was interested in you. Damn guy has a radar for these things.”

“Wow. Thanks for the heads-up.”

“Dude, you were living with him,” Art says. “Saying anything would have messed that up. Besides, Beau used to have the hots for you when we were younger too, so it isn’t exactly groundbreaking news. You really didn’t know?”

“No clue.”

“How did you find out?” Griffin asks.

“He told me.”

“Good for him.”

“After we hooked up.”

And there’s the shock I was expecting.

“Fuck me,” Griffin mutters. “You lucky bastard.”

I groan and cover my face again. “I thought so too until he dropped the crush thing on me.”

“Crush? What are we, in high school?” Art shakes his head. “The man has feelings for you. At least say it like it is.”

“I’m only echoing what he’s said.”

“And you believe him?” Griffin looks at me like I deserve his pity. “I’ve been with exactly one person since I was eighteen. I’m naive when it comes to relationships, but even I know crushes don’t last twenty years.”

Art agrees. “He’s downplaying.”

“Well, fuck you both very much.” This isn’t the conversation I was hoping for. “You’re supposed to be making me feel better about this whole thing. The crush made it easy to focus on being friends.”

“Oh no,” Griffin mocks. “A cute guy has the hots for you. How terrible.”

I flip him off, and he laughs.

“I take it you don’t feel the same way?”

The problem is, it’s so confusing to try and work out. I think I do. When I picture Beau, my chest gets warm, and I can’t help smile over the thought of him doing something obliviously naive. But what if I’m just latching onto the thought of him because he’s interested and my ego has been damaged? “I’m going through a divorce. That’s my only relationship focus right now.”

“So you need help with what?” Art asks. “How to act with him?”

“No, so far that part has been fine. Not a whole lot has changed, which is good.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

I cringe and take a long sip of my coffee while I think about how to word this next part without sounding like a total dick. Because … the way I feel makes me a dick. “He has a date tonight.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Art asks.

“Of course.” I tap my knuckles on the table. “Which is why I shouldn’t be so annoyed about it.”

Griffin leans forward. “Oh, this is good.”

“Shut up.” Art whacks the back of his head. “I thought you didn’t like him.”

“I don’t. Well, I mean … If he didn’t have a crush or feelings or whatever, I would have wanted to keep hooking up, but beyond that …” Beyond that, if I wasn’t going through a divorce, I’d be all in easily.

“Oh, so this is some kind of toxic masculinity thing?” Art asks. “Beau is your toy.”