Staccato (Magnum Opus #2) - E.M. Lindsey Page 0,59

made his way to the park and pulled up near the concrete waves that were usually occupied by skaters.

Today, there was one, and it took him a second to recognize Jay under his thick t-shirt, helmet, and pads. He had half a mind to run, but he liked Jay, and he didn’t think the guy was going to try and push him into talking about his feelings.

He shoved his hands into his pockets as he approached, and just as he reached the lip of the first drop, Jay bailed off his board and rolled into his fall. He heard soft, self-deprecating laughter as Jay climbed to his feet, brushing off his jeans, and he squinted against the sun as he looked up to see his audience.

“Yo!” Jay broke into a jog and made it up the shorter ramp to the lip. “You skate?”

Adam laughed. “Not since high school, and I wasn’t even good then.”

Jay hummed, then dropped his board and eased down to the ground, patting the cement next to him. “Shitty day?”

“Something like that.” Adam hesitated, then dropped beside Nik’s friend and let his feet swing from side to side.

“If you were hoping to come out and watch people fall on their faces, this is the wrong place,” Jay told him with a grin. “I’m one of like five people who skate in this shitty town, and I don’t fall all that much.”

“I just needed some air.” The reality of his situation was suffocating, and he didn’t know how to keep taking breaths. “Life is a real bitch lately.”

Jay huffed his quiet agreement, pressing his hands between his thighs. “Love stuff, or et-cetera?”

“Both,” Adam confessed. “Mostly it’s that my sister’s husband is coming home soon, and I don’t know what the fuck to do with myself. My salary sucks, and I’ll need a place to live once he gets here.”

Jay’s brows furrowed. “She’s kicking you out?”

Adam laughed and shook his head. “No, but they haven’t seen each other in almost a year. I don’t want to be subjected to hetero reunion sex.”

Jay threw his head back and laughed. “Fair, man. Fair. I got a spare couch if you really need a spot to crash, but my place is a mess. Nik hangs there with me sometimes, but his prissy ass hates it.”

Adam’s lip quirked. “It’s…fine. I mean, I have enough for a studio or something, I just…I don’t know if I’m staying, you know?”

Jay looked at him sharply. “Seriously?”

Adam gave a weak shrug. “I was just here to help Stella until her husband got home. But…” He went quiet until Jay nudged him. “I don’t have anywhere to go back to. I mean, my old shop would take me back, and I was living in one of those crappy shared common space apartments for college kids. They always have rooms. But what kind of life is that?”

Jay hummed, scraping the back of his heel against the sharp drop of concrete. “I get it. We have these big plans, then something comes along and tells you that making plans is fucking pointless because nothing ever goes your way.”

“You too?”

“My girlfriend dumped me for good.” When Adam raised a brow, Jay snorted a laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. “We’ve been off and on as long as I’ve known her. I love her—I did love her. I mean, I was in love with her,” he clarified with a frustrated laugh. “I don’t think I am anymore, but I also don’t know how to be without her.”

Adam bowed his head. He didn’t get it, not entirely. Except that in a way, he was starting to. His entire life was like a clock, and knowing Nik was like the last two minutes of his existence up to this point—but those two minutes had consumed him like they were the only thing in the universe that mattered.

Logic told him to walk away, but his heart told him he wasn’t strong enough. Or maybe staying was bravery? He was too upside down to tell.

“Do you want to get some lunch?” he finally asked.

Jay laughed, then clapped him on the shoulder before standing up and offering a hand down. “Best damn thing I’ve heard all day. Come on, I know this food truck you’re going to love.”

Maybe, he thought as Jay took them in the opposite direction of his car, it wasn’t just Nik. Maybe he could find other reasons to make staying worth it. He’d had this once—a sort of cobbled together family