21. Anthony

Wyatt didn’t say anything, but his gait changed a little as we were coming into Woodinville. Though he wasn’t quite limping, he was getting there, and every now and then, his lips would tighten when he stepped.

I checked my phone and casually asked, “You want to stop and grab something to eat? It’s getting on to lunchtime.”

“I could definitely eat.” He winced. “I could stand to sit for a bit, too.”

Thought so. And God knew I’d spent enough time around athletes—and been one myself—to know that even when we knew better, we’d be dumbasses and insist we were fine. Pride goeth before the faceplant on the ice.

Fortunately, there was a small deli not far from the trail. Under the pretense of not wanting to take the cats into the restaurant, I suggested we grab a picnic table and have Wyatt sit with the critters while I went in to order. Once he had set up a water bowl for Lily, I handed over the cats’ leashes.

“They won’t be a handful, I promise.” I gestured at Moose and Bear. “Just hold on to the leashes in case something scares them, but otherwise…”

Wyatt laughed. “Yeah, they don’t look like major flight risks right now.”

They definitely weren’t. Moose was sprawled across most of the picnic table, surveying his domain like a lion. Bear… Well, he was on the bench next to Wyatt, noisily licking his butt. That would keep him occupied for a while.

I showed Wyatt the deli’s menu on my phone. Once he’d decided what he wanted, I went inside to order.

Admittedly, the break was good for me. I was off-balance and had this weird feeling like I needed to catch my breath, even though I was in great physical shape and we’d been keeping a pretty mild pace.

Except this kept happening even when we weren’t walking. Watching a hockey game with Wyatt. Eating a meal with him. Talking about whatever with him. Laughing our heads off while the cats chased the laser pointer or got fucked up on catnip.

Just… being around Wyatt.

At first I’d thought it was guilt. Simon kept accusing me of sleeping with Wyatt, and for some stupid reason, I felt guilty about that. Like I was cheating on him somehow despite not being involved with Wyatt or Simon.

But more and more, I didn’t think that irrational guilt was the reason my head went light and my mind went blank whenever I was around Wyatt. More and more, I didn’t think that had anything to do with Simon at all, and everything to do with the man sleeping in my guest room.

Feelings were weird.

I shook those thoughts away and ordered our food, along with a few pieces of chicken for Moose, Bear, and Lily. I hadn’t thought to ask Wyatt if she was allowed treats like that, but I got her some just in case.

The deli was quick, fortunately, so I was gone all of fifteen minutes. Balancing our drinks and carrying the food in a bag hanging off my wrist, I headed back to the picnic table where I’d left Wyatt and the animals.

Lily was, of course, sitting dutifully beside Wyatt. Bear was now on the picnic table, sprawled on his side with his belly fully exposed.

Moose sat on the table beside Bear, ignoring his brother and focusing intently on a blade of grass that Wyatt was running between the cracks in the table. He batted at it, looking for all the world like an overgrown kitten.

And Wyatt…

Holy fuck.

I almost dropped the drinks I was carrying.

He was watching Moose bat at the grass, and his smile made the whole world tilt a few degrees. I was an unabashed sucker for people who loved animals, and Wyatt was absolutely adorable, grinning as he played with my usually aloof cat. Was my heart melting? Was that what this was? Because I loved it.

I was about ten feet away when Bear must’ve heard me. He lifted his head, chirped, and got up. That got Moose’s attention, and he too turned to me and chirped, forgetting about Wyatt or the grass.

“Hey guys.” I couldn’t help smiling at their expressions. “Ready for some lunch?”

“Eating could be a challenge,” Wyatt pointed out. “They, uh…” He gestured at them. “Take up a lot of real estate.”

I grinned and tapped the bench. Moose obediently hopped down and sat. Bear needed me to get his attention again, but then he jumped onto the bench beside Wyatt.

Wyatt blinked. “Did you—are they trained to do that?”

“In theory. But I’m pretty sure I’m the one who’s trained.”

“How do you figure?”

I didn’t respond—I just opened the container of chicken pieces. Moose sat up as straight as he could. Bear put his paws on the edge of the table, staring at me with wide eyes. I gave a piece of chicken to Moose, whose purring could probably be heard from a mile away. Then I gestured at Bear. “Down.”

He reluctantly took his paws off the table and put them on the bench. “Good boy.” I gave him his chicken.

Wyatt cocked a brow. “So they are trained?”

“They’re properly motivated.” I nodded toward Lily, who was focused on Wyatt but kept flicking those big brown eyes to the chicken in my hand. “Can she have some?”

He nodded and took a piece, which he handed to her. She delicately took it from his fingers, wagging her tail as she chewed it.

We settled in to eat our sandwiches, all the while being watched by three very intent sets of food-motivated eyes. Lily, of course, didn’t beg or anything. My cats were reasonably well-mannered, though Moose occasionally tugged at my sleeve as if to remind me that he was there, wasting away while I cruelly ate in front of him.

As for Bear…

Wyatt stared at my ridiculous black cat for a moment. Then his shoulders dipped. “C’mon, dude. Puppy dog eyes are bad enough. That’s not fair.”

Bear continued staring at him with those giant, round eyes.

I snickered. “He’s manipulative as hell, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he is.” Wyatt sighed dramatically and tugged a small piece of chicken from his sandwich. “And it works, the little bastard.”

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me. They’ve been doing it to me since they were kittens.”

“Yeah?” He glanced at me as he reached across the table to offer Moose a piece. “Do you just get desensitized to it after a while?”

I barked a laugh. “Oh, you sweet summer child. You seem to be under the impression that I don’t still fall for it.” I stroked Moose’s back. “I’m wrapped around their little—well, giant paws.”

His lips quirked. “Hmm, yeah.” He handed a third piece of chicken to Lily. “That checks out.”

“Hey. Don’t judge me.”

“I’m not judging.” He showed his palms. “If you hadn’t noticed, they’re pretty good at manipulating me too!”

Yeah, that was the truth. They were good at it with anyone, but for some reason, it was especially cute with Wyatt.

Everything is especially cute with Wyatt.

Wait, what?

I tried to shake that thought away as we continued with our lunch, but I kept coming back to how different everything was with him. The little endearing things he did with the animals were stupidly adorable. The conversations with him were addictively relaxing. My own house was warmer and more inviting with him in it.

And now that I thought about it, the thing I really couldn’t get over was how easy all this was. Not that it should’ve been difficult—we were just two guys hanging out—but it made me realize how hard things had been with Simon. I was used to measuring my tone and considering my words because I never knew what might set off a fight. I was used to wishing for some time to myself instead of looking forward to time with Simon. For all I was attracted to Wyatt, the time I spent with him didn’t fill me with the butterflies of being in the honeymoon phase with a new boyfriend. I looked forward to it and wanted to spend time with him, whether we were out walking the cats or chilling at home in front of a hockey game or a stupid movie, because the time with him was comfortable. It was pleasant.

It was easy.

So this is life after Simon.

Over the past year, I’d spent a lot of time worrying Simon and I would break up. Of course I hadn’t wanted us to split—I loved him—but I wasn’t stupid. Simon had one foot out the door, and no matter how much I’d scrambled to keep him from continuing in that direction, I couldn’t stop him. A breakup had always been on the table.

So I’d lost a lot of sleep thinking about what life would be like after Simon. That was the worst part of even the most unavoidable breakup—the upheaval. Adapting to a new normal without someone. And Simon… I mean, we’d bought a house together. We’d talked about getting married. I hadn’t even cared one way or the other about marriage until I’d met him, and the first time he’d brought it up, it had suddenly been something I wanted.

The looming end had felt like a lot of future plans going up in smoke while the solid ground under me turned to sand. Yeah, that sounded a little dramatic, but who didn’t get dramatic and anxious when massive change was coming and there wasn’t a damn thing they could do to stop it?

And now…

Here I was. Living post-Simon.

We still had to pretend we were together for the cameras and the club, but privately, we were both free to move on. And it turned out that, for me, part of moving on included… this. A lazy afternoon walking with Wyatt and our critters. The world hadn’t ended when my relationship had, and I wasn’t just slogging forward, wondering what to do with myself. I felt good.

In fact, now that I thought about it, I kept asking myself the exact same thing I had after a couple of other past breakups: why the fuck had I held on so long?

I almost laughed. God, I was so stupid. I’d been miserable with Simon. Yeah, we’d had good times, but those times were in the past, and the biggest gift he’d ever given me was to cut me loose.

I wasn’t miserable and doomed to die alone. I was free.

More than that, as I sat across from Wyatt, watching him tease Bear with a straw wrapper on the picnic table, I realized I was also still capable of feeling attraction to people who weren’t Simon. There was no telling if that was mutual, but just being able to feel this spark gave me a bigger rush of optimism than I’d had since my name was called in the draft.

I’m going to be okay.

Life after Simon won’t just be good—it’ll be better.

Unaware of my thoughts, Wyatt laughed as Bear pounced on the straw wrapper, the table wobbling under my huge cat’s weight.

Moose, who was lying on the other end of the table, swatted at Bear’s tail. Bear had been so focused on the wrapper, he about jumped out of his skin, leaping straight in the air, back arched and fur puffed up as he spun to face Moose.

Wyatt and I both jumped back, and Wyatt’s eyes were enormous. “Holy shit!” he said with a laugh as the cats faced off.

Moose just glared coolly at Bear, ears turned back and tail twitching as he silently dared his brother to do something about it.

“Boys.” I scratched Bear’s back, making him jump a little, but then he purred and arched into my touch. “No fighting, okay?”

Bear looked innocently at me, his face full of “Dad, I would never!”

Of course that was the moment Moose lunged and bit one of Bear’s paws.

Bear jumped and hissed. Moose sat up straight, looking exceptionally pleased with himself.

And Wyatt laughed, turning me to absolute mush.

Oh my God, I am such a mess for this man.

What the hell am I supposed to do with that?