10. Isaac

10

ISAAC

The front door to our apartment flew open.

“I hate my boss,” Jamie announced as he stomped into the apartment. “And my job and the bank and everyone on the planet except you.”

“Rough meeting?” I asked from where I was sprawled on the couch.

“You could say that.” With a weary sigh, he closed the front door and trudged over to the couch, tugging his tie loose.

I tried not to stare as he flopped down next to me. Jamie worked at a bank, which meant he had to dress like an adult when he went to work. I always thought he looked good in business clothes, but I was starting to appreciate them more and more.

The light blue shirt he had on complemented his eyes, but it was the fit that elevated it from hot to suit porn levels.

The chest pulled tight around his pecs, and the sleeves stretched over his muscular arms, but it was still loose enough that the buttons didn’t pull or gape at all.

His slacks, which were the same cut as all of his work pants, hugged him like a second skin, showing off his thick thighs, rounded ass, and narrow waist. Like his shirts, they were just loose enough to not look indecent.

Add in a tie, which I hadn’t realized could look so hot until him, and I was a big fan of seeing him in his work clothes.

“Want to talk about it?” I asked, tearing my eyes from his forearms and how incredible they looked when his sleeves were rolled up.

He yanked his tie off and tossed it onto the coffee table. “Not much to say. They told us they’re going to be laying a bunch of us off.”

“What?” I sat up straighter. “When?”

He worked the top two buttons of his shirt free, letting the material hang open. “They didn’t say. Just kind of dropped the layoffs on us at the end of the meeting and said they’d have more info for us soon.”

“That’s insane. What kind of sociopath tells a room full of people they may or may not lose their jobs in the near future and leaves it at that?”

“Managers who want to scare their employees into submission,” he said tiredly. “They spent the whole meeting telling us how shitty we are and listing all the things they want us to change but didn’t give us any sort of guidelines or suggestions on how we’re supposed to fix these so-called problems. Most have nothing to do with us and are things we can’t change. Then they ended the meeting by telling us they need to restructure things to make the bank more efficient, and that meant some of us would be laid off after they finish their internal review.”

“And they didn’t give you a timeline or tell you anything about the review?”

“Nothing. Delilah said this happened at her last job too. Management was bleeding money, but instead of fixing things at the top, they just cut a bunch of people on the bottom to make it look like they were solving the problem. Her entire department was axed.”

“I’m sorry, Jamie.” I didn’t know what else to say.

“What am I going to do if they fire me?” he asked helplessly. “I know I’m only a teller, but it took me forever to get this job. I’m a jock with a communications degree. It’s not like I have a ton of options out there. How am I supposed to pay my bills? What if I can’t pay my rent?—"

“Jamie,” I cut in, trying to stop his panic before he got too deep into it. “Look at me.”

He did, his gaze as defeated as the stoop of his shoulders.

“This really sucks. I’m not going to pretend like it’s not a big deal or that it doesn’t suck ass.”

He cracked a small smile.

“It does, and I wish terrible things on your boss and anyone else who’s part of this decision-making process. But you don’t need to worry about your bills or your rent.”

He made a face. “I can’t just let you pay for me. Not again.”

This wouldn’t be the first time Jamie was laid off. About a year into our friendship, he’d been let go from his warehouse job and spent almost ten months trying to find steady work. His savings hadn’t lasted long, and I’d covered his half of the bills until he’d gotten his current job and was back on his feet.

One of the big differences between Jamie and me was that I came from money. My parents weren’t billionaires or anything, but they both lived extremely comfortable lives. I’d grown up with all the perks of being wealthy, including having a trust fund.

It wasn’t huge, and it wouldn’t last forever, but I had a roommate because I didn’t like being alone, not because I needed someone to split the bills with me. I could easily cover all of our expenses, but Jamie was too proud to let me and insisted on paying his own way.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because I’m supposed to be an adult. I did everything I was supposed to, but I’m no better off than if I hadn’t.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I worked my ass off to get a hockey scholarship so I could go to college. I got my degree, and I’ve got nothing to show for any of it. I work a job I don’t like because it’s the only job I could get, and now I might get fired because my managers suck at their jobs. I’m twenty-five, Z. I’m tired of always playing catch up.”

I lifted my arm. “Come here.”

Jamie sort of fell against me, shifting down on the couch until he could tuck his face under my chin. I wrapped my arm around him and held him close, trying to offer him some sort of comfort.

“It’s just so frustrating,” he continued, throwing one leg over mine so he could scoot even closer.

I rested my free hand on his thigh and absently rubbed my thumb over the soft material of his pants.

“Emma was married and pregnant with Cody at my age, and Laura was girl-bossing it and climbing the corporate ladder. Then there’s me, the little brother who parties like he’s still in college and tells everyone he works in finance because it sounds better than saying I’m a bank teller.”

“I know you’re stressed and freaking out,” I said, cutting into his rant. “But you can’t compare yourself to your sisters. The world was a different place when they were your age. They had different circumstances and different opportunities. And they wanted different things.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He sighed and nuzzled my throat, his stubble rasping against my skin enticingly. “It’s just hard to remember that when they’re so successful and I’m always the fuckup of the family.”

“You’re not a fuckup.” I hugged him tighter. “Not even close. Do I need to list all the reasons you’re amazing? And all the things you’ve accomplished that you never give yourself enough credit for?”

“No, but thanks for talking me down before I could spiral.” He sighed tiredly. “I’m just in a mood. I’ll stop being so ‘the end is nigh’ in a bit. Today just really sucked.”

Seeing Jamie in pain twisted something inside me. I wanted to help ease some of his burden, but this wasn’t the kind of thing that could be solved with an orgasm.

“How about you go take a shower, get into some comfy clothes, and I’ll make us dinner?” I offered. It wasn’t much, but it was the least I could do.

He needed someone to take care of him, to let him be upset or bitter or whatever else he was feeling.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said dejectedly. “It’s my night to cook. I can take a shower when we’re done.”

Not thinking too hard about what I was doing, I pressed a kiss against his hair. “Let me do this for you, Jamie. I can’t make your problems go away but let me try to make things easier for you here.”

“Thanks, Z.” He nuzzled his cheek against my neck again. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Same.” I pressed another kiss into his hair. “You’re my favorite person.”

“You’re mine too.” He let out a happy-sounding sigh. “This is nice. Why haven’t we cuddled like this before?”

“No idea,” I said, smiling at the knowledge that he was enjoying this as much as me. “Guess we’re going to have to fix that now that we know how awesome it is.”

“Guess so.” He sighed wearily. “I should get my ass up and take a shower before I lose all will to move.”

“I’ll get dinner started. I can’t promise it’ll be good, but it’ll be edible.”

“What more could a guy ask for?”

“How about we watch a movie?” I suggested. “Just have a chill night in.”

“Throw in some more of those cuddles, and you’ve got a deal.” He grinned and stood. “That’s a weird word.”

I tried to ignore the flicker of disappointment at the loss of his body against mine and stood too. “What is?”

“Cuddle.”

“Yeah, it is,” I agreed. “But I feel like most words sound weird if you think too hard about them.”

“True.” He looked down at his work clothes. “I can’t wait to get out of these. I’m jealous you get to wear coveralls to work while I have to wear this crap.”

“Yeah, but that crap looks damn good on you.”

He shot me a sly grin. “You think so?”

“Um, yeah. Can you say suit porn?” I waggled my eyebrows at him.

He laughed, the last of his mood disappearing. “Good to know. And just an FYI, but coveralls are hot.”

“No, they’re not.” I chuckled. “But I appreciate that.”

“They’re hot when you wear them.”

Warmth filled my chest. It was probably the world’s tamest compliment, but it wasn’t so much what he said, as how he said it, that made it mean so much more.

He wasn’t flirting or teasing. He was simply stating a fact.

“Are you feeling better?” I asked, not wanting to derail our progress by getting sappy or moving things into flirty. That wasn’t what right now was about.

“Yeah, a lot less ‘the world is ending’ and more ‘it is what it is.’” He smiled, a genuine one that reached his eyes.

“Good. Now go get comfy and clean, and I’ll get us food.”

“I won’t be too long,” he promised, then turned on his heel and headed toward his room.

I tore my eyes from his ass and hurried into the kitchen, trying not to get too excited at the prospect of spending the entire evening cuddling and watching movies with my best friend.