A Much Younger Man - Z.A. Maxfield Page 0,45
Bêtise bag. “Beck, here. At least take—”
“No, you need your food. You have company.” He made a circling motion that encompassed me, the food, and the man on the porch. That little shit. He was enjoying this. “It’s okay, Doc, but this is all you. You’ve got this. I believe in you.”
He blew me a kiss, closed the door behind him, and strode away with Callie at his heels.
“Shit.” I wanted to bang my head on the steering wheel for a while.
Instead, I stepped out and dragged the bag of food to the porch.
“Sorry.” Dylan’s confusion had turned to irritation as he watched Beck and Callie saunter up the street. “Did I interrupt something?”
“My guitar lesson,” I lied. “Mom didn’t know.”
This mollified him. “Your mother’s such a peach. I couldn’t believe it when she told me you moved here. She said it was a midlife crisis.”
“No, I think that only started recently.” How long before I can throw you out and go to bed?
Because I could not wait to do just that.
Chapter Fifteen
My evening became more uncomfortable from there.
Not because I was so invested in having dinner with Beck and then falling into bed alone. But having to entertain a virtual stranger—sent by my mother, no less—made the ball of fatigue in my belly tighten to anger.
“You didn’t know I was coming,” he said flatly as I unlocked the door.
“No, I’m sorry. My mother only called a few minutes ago to broach the idea, and she never said—”
“Oh God. I’m mortified.”
“No, don’t be. We’re all playthings on Mom’s game board. Can I interest you in some dinner?”
“What about…” He glanced toward the street where Beck had disappeared around the corner. “That really looked like a date I interrupted.”
“We were going to have dinner tonight, and he’s teaching me guitar.” Not a lie, but also not the truth. The least important fact about Beck was he taught me a few guitar chords.
“I’m so sorry for disrupting your plans.”
“Never mind. I have enough food for two. Are you hungry?”
“Yes, thank you. The drive down the coast took longer than I thought.”
He preceded me into the kitchen. That’s when I noticed he had a bottle of wine.
“I brought this for you, uh…” He flushed. “Now it seems a little forward, me coming here like this. Are you certain—”
“It’s good to see you after all these years, Dylan. Make yourself comfortable while I change. You can do the honors if you like. Corkscrew’s in the drawer next to the stove.”
I left him to open the wine while I hopped into the shower and rinsed off the day. After I toweled off, I put on jeans and a button-down and joined him. He was standing in the hallway, examining the pictures on the wall.
“This is how I remember you.” He pointed out a picture of me and a man I dated briefly with our arms around each other. That was college. “You haven’t changed at all.”
“Liar. But thanks.” I looked him over. “You look fit.”
He shrugged. “Thank you. The kids keep me young.”
“Is that what it is? I should have tried it.” For some reason, that made me think of Rico, so I went to his cage. “Boop.”
“Boop.” Rico sidled over so he could hop onto my wrist.
“Hey, pretty boy. How’s things?”
“Boop.”
“We’ve got a guest, Rico. Meet Dylan.” I turned to introduce Rico, but one look at Dylan’s horrified face stopped me.
“Oh my God, you have a bird. Your mom didn’t say.”
I backed away slowly. “Probably didn’t cross her mind. Rico’s harmless. He’s well trained. Just don’t reach out for him.”
“No chance of that. He’s…a bird.”
“That’s right,” I gave Dylan the same talk as when I took Rico to visit the elementary school. “He’s a cockatiel. Nymphicus hollandicus. They’re native to Australia.”
“But he’s a bird.” Very astute was our Dylan.
“Yes. He is a bird. I keep his wings clipped so he doesn’t fly. He’s used to that because he’s had his wings clipped since he was a chick.”
“That’s awful, keeping him from flying.”
“Well, since he was born and raised in captivity, it’s a lot better than what would happen to him if he flew out the window and got lost.”
Rico ruffled his feathers. “Hello, gorgeous.”
Dylan shivered, visibly pale now.
“Dylan, are you afraid of birds?” Because while I’d never met anyone who didn’t like Rico, I’d seen enough adults behave this way around snakes and tarantulas to know the signs of a phobia.
“No. Well, maybe.” He clung to the wall as far away from us as