Just a Number (Thirst Trap #2)

3. Mel

Chapter three

Mel

A lex has got me flustered. I couldn’t hold in my squeak of surprise this morning when I came downstairs and found him sprawled on the couch, wearing just a tight pair of black boxer shorts that left very little to the imagination.

I’m mad at myself that I couldn’t contain my shock at finding him there dressed like he was and my noise woke him. Once I’d calmed down, I would have been quite happy to stand there for a while, while he slept, admiring his body and the tattoos on his chest, arms and even on his thighs. He’s a fucking masterpiece.

I shouldn’t be looking.

And then, he followed me into the kitchen, with his jeans barely done up, and for a moment I had wanted to devour him. Jeez, I clearly need to get laid. This guy is my son’s friend and I’m thinking about climbing him like a tree.

When he reached out to brush my hair away from my face, I wanted to lean in towards his touch and it scared the bejeezus out of me. So I leapt back and tried to make space. Thank goodness he’s gone to put more clothes on. That should help.

I glance down and realise that I, too, should probably put something else on. I grimace at my nipples, standing to attention. Dammit. I look around and see one of Zack’s hoodies draped over the back of a bar stool. That’ll do. I pull it over my head and then take a big gulp of my coffee to try and centre myself. It’s fine. You just need to go and find a man. I really hope my pep talk helps.

Once my coffee is half drunk, I’m a bit calmer and pull the ingredients out to make breakfast. Alex seemed keen and the smell of bacon frying is likely to wake Zack up. Even with his room at the other end of the hall upstairs, he seems to miraculously sense when there’s bacon cooking.

Alex reappears with his t-shirt covering his ripped chest and tattoos. I try my best to squash my disappointment. I’d love to look at them in more detail. Dammit, that pep talk didn’t help at all.

“Where do you keep your glass recycling?” He makes his way over, adding more empty bottles to the ones he’d already stacked next to the sink last night.

“There’s a box in the garage. You can go through the back door and across the path. It’s probably unlocked, but take the key from the back door just in case.” He gathers the glass in his arms, but there’s too much. I open the cupboard under the sink and pull out a bucket, which I hold out to him.

“This might make it easier.” He gives me a grateful smile, stacking them in the bucket before heading to the back door. He’s back before I know it, and this time, gathers up the pizza boxes.

“I saw the bin by the garage. I’ll get rid of these for you too.”

“Thanks, Alex. How do you like your eggs?”

“However they come.” He smiles.

“Fried okay? That’s Zack’s favourite.”

“All good with me. Sunny side up, please.”

When he comes back, he sits quietly at the breakfast counter, drinking his coffee and scrolling on his phone. I’m thankful that I have the cooking to focus on and that I’m not facing him. More than once, I am sure I feel his gaze on my behind. It’s like a gentle tingle on my skin, but I brush it off, assuming I’m imagining it. As if he’d be interested in me.

It’s not long before I’m serving up the breakfasts onto the plates I’ve had warming in the oven. There’s still no sign of Zack, so I shoot him a quick text to see if he’s awake. A thumbs up comes back, so I let him know breakfast is ready and pop his plate in the warmed oven so it doesn’t go cold.

The breakfast bar is set up with three stools side by side. I place Alex’s plate and cutlery in front of him. And then hesitate, trying to work out where I should sit. It seems strange not to sit in the next seat along but I should save that for Zack. I walk around the counter, placing my plate at the far end before sitting.

“No need to wait. Just dig in.”

“Thanks.” We’re both quiet as we tuck into our food and a sense of relief washes over me at the tread of Zack’s footsteps on the stairs. I look round to see him entering the kitchen, wearing only a pair of joggers.

“Why’s it so hot? It’s tropical in here.” He lopes over to the thermostat.

“I already turned it down. I’d set it too high. Your breakfast is in the oven.”

“Thanks, Mum.” He redirects to the fridge, pulls out the milk and I watch in amusement as he opens the lid and raises the bottle to his lips. He must sense my gaze because our eyes meet and a sheepish look crosses his face, then he grimaces before grabbing a glass and filling it almost to the brim. He places it down on the counter before he spins back to take the hot plate from the oven without oven gloves, so the plate is placed heavily on the counter in a hurry. As he comes around, he claps Alex on the back before sitting between us.

“Hey, you sleep okay?”

“Yeah, I did thanks. Still salty that I kept beating you at Forza? Or are you over it?” Alex asks.

Zack puffs out a chuckle. “We can’t all be great at everything, man.”

“Why didn’t you show Alex to the guest room?” I ask Zack, still confused to have found an almost naked guy on my couch.

He shrugs. “He looked settled on the couch. And I hadn’t checked with you. I, uh, forgot.” He looks first at me, then at Alex with an apologetic look on his face.

“It’s all good, man. The couch was perfect,” Alex replies. He’s finished his breakfast now and gets up from his bar stool to rinse off his plate and cup, then loads them into the dishwasher. As he reaches for the pans, I stop him.

“Alex, you’ve done enough. Besides, Zack’s on clear up duty.”

“What?” comes my son’s garbled response, his mouth stuffed full of bacon and hash brown.

“Alex did a wonderful job tidying up after you and your friends. Maybe you could take a leaf out of his book.” I watch, amused, as Zack throws a side eye at Alex.

“Dude, don’t make me look bad,” he tells his friend. Alex shrugs, but there’s still a smile on his lips.

“I’m gonna head. Are you at the Arts Centre later?” Alex looks at Zack with a raised brow.

“Tonight. There’s an event I’m helping set up for from 3 pm and then waitering at tonight. You want me to see if they need anyone else?”

“Maybe. I’m waiting to see if the bar needs me. Let me know if they’re looking short and if I’ve not heard from the bar, I can help.”

Alex grabs his phone from the kitchen counter and gives me a nod. “Thanks for letting me stay and for the food.”

“No worries.”

And with that, he leaves. I look across at Zack, still shovelling food into his mouth, and give him a shoulder check.

“Aren’t you going to see your friend out?”

“He’s a big boy. He can find his own way.”

I wait until I hear the front door close behind Alex before I turn my full attention to Zack. He glances at me sideways and heaves an enormous sigh. “Let’s hear it, Mum. What have you got to say?”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“You’ve got that look on your face that tells me you’ve got a bone to pick with me.”

“I just… it was a shock to come downstairs this morning and find a half-naked man on my couch.”

He winces. “Yeah, sorry about that. I forgot I’d offered for him to stay. It was so he could have a few beers because he was bringing the bike.”

“Why didn’t you put him in the guest room?”

“Like I said, I hadn’t checked with you and I’m pretty sure he was fine on the couch.”

“How old is he?”

“I dunno. A few years ahead of me. Maybe Twenty-three, twenty-four? What’s it matter?”

“He’s just different from you, is all. I was wondering what you guys have in common.”

“He’s a G. A gamer, not that he has much spare time these days. He’s working all sorts of jobs, saving up to move out. His stepdad is a complete twat, apparently.”

“That’s rough,” I say with a wince. “Have you seen his pottery?”

“Yeah, it’s amazing. The guy’s got talent, but he needs to do the waitering and bar work to earn some money.”

“I thought he was a drug dealer when he knocked on the door.”

Zack guffaws. “So judgey, Mum. What the hell? Just because he rides a motorcycle and has tattoos? Come on, you’ve taught me better than that. Do better yourself.”

I feel suitably chagrined. “You’re right. I shouldn’t judge on first appearances. I just couldn’t get my head around him being your friend. He looks older. And different from your other friends.”

“Mum, you’ve known a lot of my other friends for years. When we were all smaller than you!”

“True. He seems nice enough. And it was good of him to tidy up.” I give my son a knowing look.

“I know there’s more I can do around here. I’ll try. I just get distracted by other stuff.”

“All I ask is that you try. What are your plans today?”

“Work at 3 pm. Had been planning a long lay in but you were up at the crack of dawn making bacon, and luckily, I was awake. Maybe some gaming… see if anyone is online.”

“Are you seeing your father this weekend?”

“Dunno. Not heard from him this week. Must be busy with his new girlfriend.” His tone is nonchalant as he lifts a shoulder in a shrug.

“Why don’t you text him?” As much as I have no desire to see my ex-husband ever again, I try my best to remain neutral for Zack and encourage their relationship. I don’t think our split and subsequent divorce had been a surprise to our son, given the difficulties we’d been having. But I want to make sure Zack still has a father figure and extra support when he needs it.

“Last time I saw him, he was talking about taking me away to a cabin somewhere for a fishing weekend. Sounds a bit shit, to be honest. But maybe he’s already forgotten.”

My ex, John, isn’t great at following through, but I hope he’s going to pull his finger out and sort out some quality time with his son. Maybe I should send him a text with a gentle nudge? I’ll see if Zack hears from him over the next few days.

“What are your plans?”

“I might be dragging Cassidy out for a drink or several tonight. Today I want to catch up on chores around the house and get some of my Bookstagram stuff done.”

“I’ll wash up then and help you get started.”