Page 8 of Not Open Yet
When I was all locked in by myself, I turned the lights off and went upstairs.
It was still surreal that the man I once called Mr. Rupert was now my renovation buddy. Even calling him by his first name felt weird. But he reminded me that I wasn’t his student anymore, and we weren’t in class.
He was just Kyle, a friend who wanted to help. It took a bit for me to separate the teacher I remembered from high school from the man who'd shown up two days in a row with kind words and encouragement that I hadn’t felt since Rand left. But now it was starting to sink in and it was…confusing. In a way, they were like two different people, then and now. And that was probably healthiest.
Kyle was my friend. But did I want…more? Was that appropriate? And if the answer was yes to either of those, then what? Like I said, confusing.
My muscles were tight from all the painting, so I hopped in the shower to let the hot spray ease the tension.
As much as I wanted to put Kyle out of my mind, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Was it possible to just be friends with a man like him? A man who was so attractive and…Daddy-like. After everything I’d been through, I wasn’t even sure I was capable of having a friend. He was just a nice guy being kind to someone who clearly needed help.
But the way he listened to me was…nice. And sometimes he looked at me like I was someone he truly cared about. Other times, like something that was fragile and broken. Maybe it was a combination of the two.
The water ran down my back, and I was almost surprised to notice I was getting hard. I hadn’t been hard in eight months, not if you didn’t count morning wood. Truthfully, I hadn’t been sure I ever would be again. But my body apparently had opinions about Kyle, and underneath the sawdust and paint fumes was the spark of a new crush.
But I understood enough about biology and my own need for some endorphins that I stopped trying to talk myself out of it and reached for my cock. As soon as I wrapped my fist around my shaft, my eyes closed and a vision of Kyle filled my mind.
His big hands and strong arms.
The way he smiled when I did something right and was quick to help when I did something wrong just gave me a fuzzy feeling in my tummy.
Kyle was such a Daddy, and I needed a Daddy. Maybe I just needed him.
I stroked faster, and it didn’t take long to get me to the edge. “Kyle.” I used my other hand to squeeze my balls and then run a finger over my hole. “Daddy.” Within seconds, that feeling I’d forgotten about uncoiled inside me, and I came against the shower wall in thick streams. Part of me wished I wasn’t in the shower so I could look at my release for a while and keep the fantasy going. But it was quickly washed away, and the pleasure that I’d fully embraced was quickly replaced with guilt.
Guilt for thinking about Kyle in ways I only ever thought about Rand.
After a quick rinse, I caught my breath and turned off the water. I just needed some sleep before seeing Kyle again in the morning. I didn’t want to make it weird.
6
KYLE
I was not falling for Ethan Andersen. I couldn’t be. He was a former student. Sure, that was a long time ago, but that didn’t change the fact.
I was just helping someone in need who was going through a hard time. That was a perfectly normal and innocent thing to do. I liked to help people. It wasn’t complicated, and it didn’t need to be examined any further than that.
Even as I finished labeling my morning yield and got it all packed in the cooler, I tried to convince myself that there wasn’t more than kindness behind my new obsession.
There was an instant and all-encompassing attraction to that sweet guy who just needed some guidance and support and maybe a damn hug.
My route on Mondays took me all the way across town before I doubled back toward Clayborne. I had four planned stops, but Trevor Jones was on a work trip and forgot to cancel, so I had two extra jars that would have to be used or tossed within the next day or two. No big deal, but I did hate to waste.
I was heading back to my car after my last drop when my phone buzzed with a text from Ethan.Not feeling well. Gonna take the day off.
I stood on the sidewalk and frowned. He’s sick? Was it serious? Honestly, I was more concerned than I had any right to be. He was probably just tired after the long hours. I was sure as hell feeling those hours in my back and arms. But what if it was something more serious? I had to see him with my own eyes.Sorry to hear that. I'd still like to come and get a few things done. Is that okay?
I watched the response dots appear and then disappear a few times before I put the phone in my pocket and loaded the cooler into the car. Finally, my phone buzzed, and I quickly read the message.Sure. Code to the door is 6455. Just come in.
As anxious as I was to see him, I still made a quick stop on the way. The deli on Fourth made a delicious chicken soup. I got a quart and a loaf of the sourdough while trying to convince myself this was just what you did when a friend was sick. I’d never taken soup to a sick friend before, but that was beside the point.
The code worked on the first try, so I let myself in and then locked up behind me. It was dark in the coffee shop, but the aroma of fresh paint made me smile. We were really making progress.
I went through the shop and up the internal stairs that connected to the apartment above. I’d never been up there before, but I’d watched Ethan run up and down the stairs a few times, so I had an idea where to go. When I got to the door at the top, I knocked twice before trying the knob. It was unlocked. "Hi, Ethan. It's me."
"Come in." He called from deeper in the apartment.
“I come bearing soup!” The apartment was dark with the curtains still drawn, and it was slightly chilly.
