Page 62 of Dad Next Door
“I know, but that’s why you have me to point out when you’re being a dumbass.” He grinned cheekily. “PS: you’re being a dumbass.”
“Thanks, asshole.”
He blew me a kiss. “So, you and your neighbor. That’s interesting—but not surprising.”
“You’re not shocked I’m with a guy?”
“Nope. I don’t know a ton about being demi or what the nuances of it are, but I do know it’s not uncommon for people who are demi to also be bi or pan.”
“Yeah, that’s true.” I chewed on the corner of my lip. “I don’t know how to be in a relationship. I’ve never been in what people would consider a traditional one. I mean, my first girlfriend and I were long-distance and only saw each other four times in the two years we were together, and most of that was at the camp we worked at over the summers. My next attempt at dating lasted all of three months before she cheated on me because I wanted to take things slow. Sabrina and I were together for over a year, but we barely saw each other because we were both so focused on work, and we eventually drifted apart.
“Tris is my neighbor, and he’s my best friend. What if I fuck things up, and we end up being strangers who share a property line? And he has a kid. I don’t want to be the guy who waltzes into his life and bonds with him, then bails and leaves him high and dry because his dad and I aren’t bumping uglies anymore.”
“Quinn,” Jesse said, his voice gentle. “Your fears are valid, but there’s nothing you can do to change or even predict the future. And I think the fact that you’re so worried about messing up your friendship and hurting his kid shows you won’t be that guy. You’re overthinking things.”
“That’s kinda what I do,” I snort-laughed and rolled my still-full beer bottle in my hands.
“You really like him.” Jesse’s tone was soft, but his look was scrutinizing.
“Yeah.” I leaned back in my chair. Freaking out about my new career and a new relationship at the same time was using up almost all my mental and emotional bandwidth. It made my head a very loud and chaotic place. “I didn’t even realize it until a few nights ago.”
“I say this with all the brotherly love in the world, but you’re going to sabotage things before they even start if you let your ADHD brain take over.”
I toasted him with my bottle. “Say less, bro.”
“So tell your brain to shut the fuck up and let you enjoy your life.” He chuckled. “Glare at me all you want, but you know I’m right. I’m not saying you can shut down your anxiety or control how your ADHD processes things, but you have experience starting a business. And you have a solid friendship with your new beau to fall back on. You can always talk to him when things get loud or you need reassurances.”
“Yeah,” I grumbled. “I just hate how I have to do this shit because my brain never stops spinning, and it makes me overthink and obsess about everything. I hate that I have to struggle so damn much just to be at everyone else’s baseline of getting from point A to B without a million mental side quests and having to wade through layers of negative self-talk. And having an actual voice in my head that’s always telling me I’m stupid and worthless and everything I do is a disaster in the making. It’s exhausting, and it never fucking stops.”
“It sucks,” he agreed. “But you’ve got people to lean on. You’ve got your family, your friends. Your new guy. You don’t have to be the strong one all the time. You don’t always have to be the one who’s there for everyone else but who never lets anyone else be there for him.”
“Are you getting hungry? It takes forever to get delivery here.” I pulled out my phone and unlocked it.
“Yeah.”
He knew that was my way of saying the conversation was over. Not because I didn’t want to talk to him about it anymore, but because I couldn’t.
My toxic trait was that I needed to be needed. Maybe it was a holdover from being constantly rejected by everyone except my family in childhood, or maybe it was from never feeling like I belonged anywhere because I didn’t want the same things as everyone else, but I truly felt like my worth was in what I could do for others.
Like I had to be useful to keep my place in their lives or earn their friendship and love.
“So, what are you in the mood for?” I asked. Right now I needed to think about food. I could go back to the self-flagellation later.
13
QUINN
I was just coming back into the garage from putting our leftover food away when a familiar car drove up Tristan’s driveway.
Nerves tickled my chest, and my stomach flip-flopped.
“Dad wants to know if you’re coming to Sunday dinner this week,” Jesse said, not looking up from his phone.
“Tell him I’ll be there as long as he makes his spinach dip and gets the good pumpernickel bread to go with it.”
Jesse chuckled and typed something. “He said it’s a deal if you bring pastries from that cat place.”
“The Cat Café? Yeah, sure. I’ll call Liam this week and put an order in. Ask what he wants. Otherwise I’m getting stuff I like.”