Page 63 of Dad Next Door
Jesse’s thumbs tapped against his screen.
“Hey—oh, you have company.” Tristan stood at the open garage door, a hesitant expression on his handsome face.
“Not sure I’m considered company.” Jesse stood and flashed Tristan a smile. “Hi, I’m Jesse. Quinn’s stepbrother.”
“Hi. I’m Tristan. Quinn’s…neighbor?” He flicked his gaze between us nervously. “Should I go?”
I crossed the garage and stopped in front of him.
He looked between me and Jesse again.
I leaned in and pressed a quick kiss against his lips. “Was that okay?” I asked softly as I pulled away.
We hadn’t talked about what our new relationship would look like, but I wanted to reassure him that I was still invested in us. And I liked kissing him, even if it was a simple peck.
His smile was a bit goofy. “Yeah. You can do that anytime you want.”
“I was about to head out.” Jesse tucked his phone away and shot me a sly grin. “Dad says he wants a red velvet cake pop and one of those éclairs with the watermelon custard in it. I want some of those tuxedo cheesecake slices. And get Adam some truffle lava cakes. He devoured the last batch you brought over. Enjoy the rest of your night.”
“Later.”
“It was nice to meet you,” Tristan said.
“You too, neighbor Tristan.” He winked and strode out of the garage.
“I shouldn’t have come over.” Tristan chewed on his lip.
“Why not?”
“I saw his car in the driveway, and I…” He looked away. “I got jealous. I know it’s dumb, but we usually hang out when I’m done with work on Monday and don’t have Leo, but you already had company and?—”
Wrapping my arm around his waist, I tugged him against my chest. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Yeah?” He smiled crookedly.
“Yeah.” I kissed him again. The casual intimacy was nice, way nicer than I remembered from my previous relationships. “And I get why you reacted that way. It’s natural after what Asshole McDouchenozzle put you through.”
“I just hate that I immediately thought the worst about you.” He rested his forehead against mine.
“It takes time to get over that kind of neglect.” I pressed a soft kiss against his lips. “Did you eat?” Taking his hand, I led him over to my chair set up. “We ordered Lebanese food. I’ve got a ton of leftovers in the house.”
“I’m good, thanks.” He sank into one of the chairs with a sigh.
“That sounded loaded.” I went to the fridge. “Beer or soda?”
“It was.” He chuckled, but it sounded more like a weird grunt. “Soda, please. Today was…a day. Drinking right now would not be a good idea.”
“Wanna talk about it?” I handed him an orange soda and sat across from him.
He took it and popped the top. “Simon sent a letter to the clinic. And, of course, he used a courier so it would be extra annoying and cause a scene.”
“A letter by courier? Is this 1985?”
“It hurts my elder millennial soul that you think 1985 is ancient history.” He put one hand over his heart.
“My bad. How’s this: A letter by courier? Is this 1885?”
“Better.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.