“That’s awesome. You’re carrying his legacy on, one label at a time.” Dylan laughed and took a swig of his beer.
“That’s one way to put it.” Apollo sighed and tried to focus on his food. Thinking about his dad these days always led to thinking about Neal and whether Apollo was doing enough to keep him alive for the girls.
“Well, I’m going to put the broom away and head upstairs. Enjoy your food.”
Hell. Apollo had let the conversation lag longer than was polite. And strangely, he didn’t really want to be alone in the kitchen with his dinner. He liked having Dylan around, even when he was challenging Apollo. Maybe especially when he was challenging him.
“Hey, Dylan?” Apollo stopped him as he put the broom back in the pantry. “What do you usually do at night?” Why didn’t he know this already? It had been over a week, and most nights, Dylan slipped off to his room after dinner. When his mom was there, she had often done the same thing, heading back to watch her B-list celebrity reality shows in her room. Apollo’s back tightened. Being alone all the damn time got old.
“You have awesome Wi-Fi.” Dylan grinned at him. He took Apollo’s now empty plate from him, added it to the dishwasher. Man, he was so damn good at anticipating Apollo’s next move like that. “I usually watch a show on my tablet. Sometimes I play War Elf with some friends from home. That sort of thing. Why?”
Why this felt like such a huge deal, Apollo couldn’t say, but his pulse suddenly sped up. “I’m too keyed up to sleep yet. Would you want to watch something together?”
“Absolutely.” Dylan brushed by him, heading to the living room. He grabbed the controller from the high shelf where Apollo hid it from the girls. “What do you usually watch?”
“Uh.” Apollo struggled to keep up, taking his usual seat on the far side of the sectional. Dylan came and sat right next to him, ignoring the recliner and other chairs in the room. “Not reality shows. And nothing like CSI—no crime shows.”
Those had been Neal’s thing, and since his death, Apollo just didn’t have the stomach for any police drama.
“Hmm. No tipsy bachelorettes handing out roses and no hard-boiled detectives. I can live with that. What do you like? Cooking shows?”
Apollo was not going to dignify that with a response even if the answer was yes. There was something soothing about Chopped or Iron Chef, and he wasn’t going to apologize for kicking back with them when he couldn’t sleep. Even so, he wasn’t sure he needed Mr. Perceptive guessing.
“Figured.” Dylan laughed. “Your cooking is too good for you not to be getting tips somewhere.”
“Thanks, I think. But we can watch something you like.”
“Yeah?” Dylan’s smile widened, and he turned toward Apollo, tucking one leg under him. He looked like an overeager pelican, and yet there was something undeniably appealing about his enthusiasm. He flipped around with the controller until the icon for a show starring a pretty woman in a silver suit appeared on the screen. “How would you feel about sci-fi? Dystopian future with a war between rival time-traveling gangs? I’ve been dying to share this show I found with someone. I don’t mind going back and watching the first season again with you.”
“Anything that has you this worked up has to be good.” Despite himself, Apollo laughed. It was hard not to smile around Dylan, not to feel lighter. Neal never really cared for sci-fi, so it was nice to find someone who shared...
No. He wasn’t going to think like that. Neal hadn’t needed to share Apollo’s taste in TV. He and his Castle and Law & Order obsessions had been perfect. And Apollo was certainly not going to think about how nice it was to be hanging out with another adult, how good it felt to banter with Dylan, to not be alone in the dark with only the TV yet again.
“The chick is the star of the show, but wait until you see the guy she pairs up with.” Dylan winked at him. “Insta-crush, I promise you.”
Apollo made a scoffing noise. The last thing he needed was an “insta-crush” on anyone. Especially not the too-happy guy next to him who bounced along to the theme music and smelled...
Nope. No insta-crushes allowed.
Chapter Six
“Man, I love this show.” Dylan stretched and took a swig of his beer. In the week he’d been indoctrinating Apollo via the streaming app on his TV, this had fast become his favorite time of the day.
“Cliffhanger!” Apollo groaned and flopped back against the chaise end of the sectional couch. “You could have warned me.”
“Oops.” Dylan laughed and shoved at the immovable wall that was Apollo’s chest.
“You’re not sorry.” Apollo shoved right back. It wasn’t really play wrestling and absolutely wasn’t cuddling, but they’d gotten a lot more touchy over the last week.
“Guilty. Shall I put part two on?”
“Crap, it’s late.” Apollo gestured at the mantel clock.
“I’m not that tired, old man.” Dylan reached for the controller.
“Who you calling old? Okay, okay. One more episode.” Apollo settled back against the cushions, dragging Dylan down too. Still not cuddling, but...
No hopeless crushes, remember? Just because Apollo seemed to be unusually touchy-feely didn’t mean anything. He’d been happier than usual when he came in after work loaded down with groceries. It was beyond cute how the big guy looked forward to his cooking marathon days off. And a hot uniformed guy hauling two eager kids around as he hefted huge packages of meat and potatoes? Be still, my heart.
Your heart has issues. No crushes. None.
Next to him, Apollo yawned and stretched, one arm coming down on the sofa back. Guy was probably too exhausted to realize what he was doing, and a nicer person would slide to the other side of the couch. But all Dylan did was sink further into the couch, yawning as the opening credits rolled. Their bodies weren’t quite touching, but it was just close enough to drive him crazy. Apollo smelled like tea tree and something else woodsy—he’d showered after putting away the groceries, emerging ready for the weekend in beat-up cargo shorts and a faded T-shirt.
Dylan was dying to snuggle into that scent, see if the shirt was as soft as it looked, feel more of Apollo’s warmth. But he wasn’t some kid with delusions. They might have been having a great time the past week watching TV together, and Apollo might have loosened up considerably, but that’s all this was—two dudes sharing a show. He yawned again. Fuck. He really was tired.
Too bad he’d seen this episode twice already. It was getting hard to keep his eyes open...