Page 17 of Dad Next Door

“That was an invitation, just so you know. Not an observation.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Tristan chuckled, his shoulders lowering as some of the tension left him. “That would be really great right now.”

I waved for him to follow me into my second garage, the one I’d set up as my workshop. Like the rest of the house, the space was mostly empty except for some boxes I still had to unpack, a fridge, a coffee machine, a workbench, some chairs, and not much else.

Moving from a cramped two-bedroom apartment to a five-bedroom house with a full loft and almost an acre of land was a huge adjustment. My bedroom, loft studio, office, kitchen, home gym, and the main living room were the only furnished rooms in the house. The rest was empty space I had plans to eventually furnish once I got my new business off the ground.

Tristan looked around. “Is it true this was an art studio before you moved in?”

“Art studio?” I went to the fridge near the door into the house and pulled two beers from the shelf. “Make yourself at home.” I pointed to the cluster of four chairs in the corner.

“Do you know much about the previous owner?” Tristan lowered himself into one of the chairs.

I popped the caps off the beers with the opener on the side of the fridge and went to join him. “Not too much. Just that he’s an architect and designed the house.”

“Thanks.” He took the beer I extended to him. “I didn’t really know him all that well. He kept to himself. Honestly, I don’t blame him. He was the first person to buy and build on the street. Legend has it he owned my lot too but had to split it for financial reasons.”

“Really, I didn’t know that.” I waited as he took a long sip. “How long have you lived next door?”

“Almost twelve years.” He snort-laughed and took another pull of his beer. “Back when I was young and dumb and believed in happily ever after.”

“So, your ex is an asshole?” I asked, curious about that dynamic.

He laughed softly. “Yup. Which is why he’s my ex.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything, obviously. But I’m a good listener if you need someone to vent to.”

“Better be careful what you ask for.” He leaned back in his chair and took another pull of his beer. “Otherwise you’ll never get me to shut up.”

“I’m always down for some ex-bashing, just saying.” I crossed my ankles in front of me and took a long drink of my beer.

“Thanks. A few of these, and I’ll probably take you up on that.” He wiggled his bottle at me. “The guys who were here last weekend, are they your crew?”

“Kind of.” I toyed with the label on my bottle. “I work with them at a club.”

“A club? I thought you said you were a contractor?”

“I am, sort of. I guess it would be more accurate to say I’m in the process of becoming a contractor.”

“Oh?”

“I’m still setting up my business. Right now I’m my only employee.”

“I don’t mean this to come off the wrong way, but how are you able to…” He glanced around the garage.

“Buy into this neighborhood?”

He nodded, the tips of his ears pink.

“My other jobs. I’m an online content creator and dancer. Contracting is my next venture. Hopefully.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. Then opened it and closed it again.

“You can ask whatever you’re thinking. I’m used to questions.”

“I might be showing my age, but when you say content creator and dancer, what does that mean exactly?”

“Remember how I said my friends and I all work at a club together?”