Free Rm W/a Vu by A. D. Ryan Page A

parties anyway. I’m way too involved with my studies,” I tell him.
    Nodding, Greyston pushes his food around his plate. “We’ll have to figure out some sort of laundry schedule…for obvious reasons.”
    Great. Now I’m wondering if Greyston prefers boxers or briefs.
    We continue to discuss how we see this living together thing working out. Turns out it shouldn’t be too much of an adjustment, especially when he reminds me about his work schedule from time to time.
     “I don’t have any trips lined up as of yet, but sometimes they’re very spur of the moment,” he explains. “I’m not your parent, Juliette”— thank God for that —“and you’re not a child. If you’d feel more comfortable having someone come and stay with you while I’m away, I’d understand. Girlfriend, boyfriend… Whatever.”
    I laugh. “I don’t think that last one will be happening.”
    Greyston doesn’t look at me, instead seeming a little too interested in the piece of broccoli in his Alfredo sauce. “I doubt that.” His voice is quiet, but I still hear him.
    He sets his fork down and turns his whole body toward mine. “All I’m saying is that I don’t want you to think of me as your landlord. I’d like for us to be friends. This is your home now too.”
     “Thank you,” I respond, touched by just how much he wants me to feel like I’m at home.
    We each take another bite, having ironed out a few details, before Greyston asks, “So, how did your parents take the news about you moving out?”
    I giggle. “Moving out was never the issue. The issue was my living with a man.” Greyston chuckles lightly. “My dad was fine after I explained things a little more rationally. He’s still concerned, but I’m his only child. I get his fears.”
     “He just wants to keep you safe,” Greyston deduces.
     “Exactly,” I agree. “Actually, he has one stipulation.”
    Greyston’s eyebrows rise curiously. “Which is?”
     “He wants to meet you,” I tell him, kind of nervous for his reaction.
     “I can do that. If it’s going to set your father’s mind at ease, I’d love to get together,” he offers.
    Beaming brightly, I lock eyes with him. “Great! I’ll set it up.”
    When we’ve both finished dinner, I offer to clean up before I have to go. I’m just rinsing the last dish and putting it in the dishwasher when Greyston’s phone rings.
    Apologizing to me first, Greyston picks up his phone. “Hey, Callie,” he answers, looking at me briefly before standing up and heading for the patio. “No, no. Now’s fine. How was your day?”
    Once he’s outside, he closes the door, and I’m left standing by the sink, watching him through the window as he laughs into the phone with some woman named “Callie.”
     
     

Chapter 7

    “ O f course he has a girlfriend,” I mumble to myself as jealousy needles its way under my skin, my eyes never leaving him through the window above the sink.
    I imagine her to be a total knockout. I mean, there’s no way someone who looks and acts the way Greyston does could possibly be with anyone less than gorgeous. My vision of this Callie person is ethereal.
    She’s tall, because Greyston is, and she’s got curves that a woman should be proud of. And while my body isn’t terrible, I know it’s not nearly as voluptuous as I imagine hers to be. Because of her terrific body, there isn’t a doubt in my mind that she’s a rock star in bed. And me? Well, I drove away the only sexual partner I’ve ever had because I didn’t like it enough to want it. Add being the last female a gay guy dated before coming out of the closet, and my track record is pretty friggin’ stellar. She’ll be really nice too, not some cold as ice bitch who thinks she walks on water, because I don’t think Greyston would put up with that. Not even for rock star sex.
    The more I think about Greyston’s perfect girlfriend, the more frustrated and stupid I feel for ever thinking he was flirting with