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bymagajonesChapter 1 here
Chapter 2
Three days later, Juliette texted, “Dinner on Friday, 7pm. Bring your roommates and wine. Good wine.”
Nick hid his phone underneath his desk in the lecture hall and answered, “Thanx. I owe u 2.”
“So very much,” Juliette texted back, followed by three smiley emoticons.
By the time Wu and Hank dragged Nick out of their apartment Friday night, he’d changed his clothes three times.
“How can it take you so long?” Hank complained, hand firmly pulling Nick out of the door. “You own, like, seven t-shirts, and four of them are black.”
“Don’t forget the three pair of jeans,” Wu added helpfully, locking the door.
“It’s a dinner party that might or might not turn into a kegger. How do I dress for that and still look good?”
“Don’t worry,” Wu said, pushing his way past his roommates and starting down the stairs. “Your ass looks just as terrific in all of them.”
Hank and Nick shared a confused – and slightly uncomfortable look – before shrugging and following.
Juliette and Rosalee’s apartment was slightly less than a mile away, and they decided to walk, stopping off at a nearby liquor store for the promised bottle of wine.
“So this party will probably be full of GN-olas, huh?” Wu asked.
“I’m not the only JT student Juliette knows,” Nick said, “I don’t know how many people she invited, so we’ll have to see.”
“You guys think we’ll have any problems?”
Nick looked over at Hank. There’d been quite a few parties that had gone into history as competitive throw-downs between the two schools. He’d never been involved or even seen one, so he liked to picture a bunch of bearded, long haired guys in sandals throwing hacky sacks and tie-dyed tee-shirts.
Hank finally shook his head, answering Wu. “It’s a dinner party. How bad can it get? Besides, the whole point of this is to aim Nick here toward his boy and let those big eyes do their magic.”
Nick frowned. “What big eyes?”
Wu snorted. “Juliette probably went out with you in the first place because you reminded her of those cute little puppies she has to hold at the animal hospital. You know, the ones who are in pain, with big old tears gathering in their huge eyes.”
“So you’re calling me a hurt dog?” Nick complained lightly.
“No,” Wu said promptly. “I’m calling you a hurt puppy. How’re you going to make a decent cop if you don’t pay attention to the details?”
They arrived ten minutes late, able to walk straight into the apartment building thanks to a well-placed street cone holding the normally locked front door open.
Hank frowned, looking at the orange cone. “That’s not very safe.”
“No one’d be dumb enough to try to mess with them when they have three strong men – and Nick – to protect them.”
Nick gave Wu a look. “Remember that introduction to Suzanna you wanted?”
“I separated you, because you’re the strongest and wisest of all,” Wu said without a pause.
“You can pull anything out of your ass, can’t you?” Hank asked, following Wu up the stairs.
“It’s a gift,” Wu said. “What floor?”
“Third,” Nick said. “Apartment 301.”
“Why does everyone we know, including us, live on the top floor?” Hank complained.
“Because it’s so much fun to see drunk people falling down multiple flights of stairs at the butt crack of dawn?” Wu hazarded.
Nick laughed as they walked up to the door. He raised his hand to knock, but the door swung open.
“Hey,” Rosalee said, smiling. “Come on in.”
“What are you, psychic?” Wu asked. Nick could tell he was only partially joking.
“I heard you on the way up. The acoustics in this building are great – as long as you want everyone to know your business.” She looked at Hank. “Everyone who lives in the building is either here at the party or in class, and we made sure all of the other apartment doors are locked. We try to be safe.”
Hank just stared and grunted out something indecipherable, shoving the bottle of wine at Rosalee, who smiled and thanked him, almost making Hank dissolve into a puddle of happiness right in front of them.
Wu and Nick shared a grin before Nick made the introductions. “Rosalee, these are my roommates Wu and Hank. Wu and Hank, this is Rosalee, Juliette’s roommate.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Wu said, smiling before he looked around the small apartment. “Nice place.”
“It’s small, but it’s perfect for us,” Rosalee said, surveying the room as well. “We both live here year, ‘round, so we don’t have to worry about finding a new apartment every year.”
Nick turned and saw Monroe’s back through the passthrough to the kitchen, and he felt his mouth go dry. Monroe was wearing a blue flannel shirt, and his shoulders seemed to fill the small area. Nick had never seen him standing, and he’d had no idea the other man was so tall.
Hank’s gentle nudge caught his attention. “You gonna go in there or just stare at him from here?”
Ignoring Hank, Wu, and Rosalee’s grins, Nick walked into the kitchen. “Hey.”
“Hey, Nick,” Juliette said, closing the refrigerator door. “Monroe, this is Nick, Nick, this is Monroe.” She gave them both a guileless smile that had Nick wondering if she weren’t more suited for the theater than a vet’s office.
Monroe stood frozen, obviously surprised.
“We’ve met,” Nick said, smiling, trying not to laugh at Monroe’s matching flannel apron.
Juliette peered into the living room. “It looks like we have some more guests. I’d better get out there and help Rosalee – that is if you wouldn’t mind helping Monroe, Nick?” She gave them both another innocent smile.
“Not a problem,” Nick assured her as he faced her, mouthing a thanks before she left the room. He turned back to Monroe, who stood staring at him with squinted eyes, as if he were trying to figure something out.
“I told you I’d see you again,” Nick said, rolling up his sleeves. “Where do you want me?” He suppressed a smile when he watched Monroe force down a swallow.
“First you need to wash those hands. Who knows where they’ve been?”
Nick had to force back a series of smart-ass answers, cursing Wu’s bad influence, and washed before turning back to Monroe, holding out dripping hands like a surgeon. “What next?”
“Next you dry your hands,” Monroe muttered, grabbing a cloth and rubbing it over Nick’s hands. “Philistine.”
Nick looked down, fascinated by the size of Monroe’s hands as they covered his. Despite Monroe’s gruff look, he was surprisingly gentle… and warm, Nick realized as he took a small step closer.
He wasn’t sure how long they stood there before he realized that Monroe had finished drying his hands, but he decided that he didn’t really care.
“Umm, we’d better get back or the rest of the appetizers will never be ready,” Monroe said, finally stepping back and turning toward the stove.
“And what are we having tonight?” Nick asked.
“I was going to make an actual dinner, you know, appetizer, main course, dessert, but Juliette called me yesterday and told me that the party had gotten bigger than she expected, so we decided to just make a variety of appetizers.” Monroe glanced at Nick, who pretended not to notice. “The challenge was to find something that everyone could eat.”
“Because of allergies?”
“And dietary choices. Juliette and Rosalee are friends with pretty much everyone. Some people are gluten-free, some vegetarian. Others are vegan, and then we have a couple of people who might be showing up who have intolerances to cinnamon, garlic, and black pepper.” He must’ve noticed Nick’s look, because he added, “Seriously. That’s one of the reasons why Juliette always asks me to make the food.
“The brownies – gluten free – are hiding out in Rosalee’s room with the chips, because Hap’s friends are like locusts.”
Nick smiled, leaning against the passthrough, happy to just watch Monroe move around the kitchen as they talked. “They leave nothing in their wake?”
Monroe nodded. “You’re lucky if there’s a crumb left.” He opened the oven, peering in for a second before nodding and pushing it closed. “The fig and prosciutto flatbreads, cauliflower poppers, and spinach artichoke dip are all ready.” He nodded toward a group of covered dishes on the corner of the counter. “I’m keeping an eye on the upside-down tart in the oven right now, so if I can get you to cut up a few things, I can finish Hap’s super nachos, and we’ll be set.”
“That’s… a lot of food,” Nick said.
Monroe suddenly looked nervous. “I hadn’t planned on making so many dishes, but with – ”
“It sounds good,” Nick said hastily. “The parties I’ve gone to, you’d be lucky to find one bag of chips for everyone to share.” He shrugged. “I’m not used to being so spoiled.”
Monroe bent his head, as if to hide a smile. “I like to cook, so…”
“Ever thought about becoming a chef?”
Monroe shook his head. “It’s a hobby, something I like to do every once in a while. Doing it professionally…”
“…would turn it from fun into an obligation?” Nick supplied.
“Yeah,” Monroe said, looking at him, his gaze considering. After a few seconds, he shook his head a little and said, “Hap’s nachos have steak.”
“Meat! Fantastic!” Nick rubbed his hands together happily, taking the abrupt conversation turn in stride.
Monroe rolled his eyes while he slid a cutting board in front of Nick and plopped some apples, carrots, broccoli, and cauliflower to the side. He paused for a moment with a large knife, eyeballing Nick.
“Think I’m gonna go crazy with the knife and carve up everybody?” Nick teased. He made a slow perusal of Monroe, making sure Monroe was aware that he was taking in the whole package. “Starting with you?”
Monroe gave him a small smile. “I think I could take you.”
“I don’t know,” Nick teased. “I’m stronger than I look.”
Monroe eyeballed Nick back, his gaze sending heat everywhere he looked until Nick found himself almost out of breath. After a few seconds, Monroe blinked, flushed, and turned away. “Let me rinse this off for you…”
Nick smiled, looking absently out into the living room. He hadn’t even been there fifteen minutes, and things were definitely looking good. He saw Hank and Rosalee talking over by a window. Well, Rosalee was talking; Hank just nodded, a besotted smile on his face. Nick wondered if Hank even heard a single thing she was saying.
Nick took the knife Monroe handed him and absently began cutting as he looked for his other friend.
Wu stood behind the sofa, chatting animatedly with three large men. He seemed like a child standing among grownups, forced to look up as they spoke, his neatly trimmed hair and black t-shirt a stark contrast to their wild manes and t-shirts covered with band names. Two of the three men had long beards; one had braided his, a look Nick found a little puzzling. One of the men shifted, completely obscuring Wu from Nick’s view but revealing a rather large keg. “That explains it,” he muttered.
“What explains what?” Monroe asked, doing a poor job at being subtle as he eyeballed Nick’s cutting skills.
“My friend Wu,” Nick tilted his head in Wu’s direction, “was worried that there might be tension between the two schools tonight.
Monroe snorted. “Hap brought a keg. The one thing he’s taught me is that the right amount of alcohol is great at making friends. Too much or too little, and you end up having to bail people out of jail and clean blood up off the floor.” He looked a little stricken after the words had slipped from his mouth.
“I’ve heard of lots of trouble over the years over a keg,” Nick said, deliberately not reacting to the fact that Monroe sounded like he’d had to do both of those things. Repeatedly.
“Yeah, but I bet Hap wasn’t there,” Monroe said mildly, his attention on the stove. “He’s a big goof.”
“The current thinking is that genetics and the way alcohol effects our neurological system play a part in it, along with our current mood and stress levels when… we… drink.” Nick finally stopped his awkward lecture and shot a glance at Monroe, who thankfully seemed amused rather than bored. He cleared his throat and stepped back. “How’s this?”
“Perfect!” Monroe exclaimed.
Nick looked back at the various sizes of the vegetables he’d just cut. The job was by no means perfect, but he thought it was good enough for college students just happy for free food. He did enjoy the feeling Monroe’s words had given him, though.
G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M
Monroe knew he wasn’t a roll-with-it kind of guy. Sure, he’d handled it fine when Bud had planted zucchini in the area Monroe had previously designated for radishes (and if he’d possibly torn open some seed bags in the storage shed that he’d guiltily sewn up later, well no one else needed to know), and he hadn’t even had to smother a growl of annoyance when Juliette replaced his dinner menu with her appetizer request. But he hadn’t expected to run into Nick again.
Sure, the other man had said that he’d see Monroe again, but really, what were the odds when they’d only met once in three years? He’d done his best to dismiss the other man from his mind, but he’d found himself staring into space every once in a while, every part of their conversation running through his mind. It hadn’t really bothered him until the day Hap noticed – and Hap rarely noticed anything that had nothing to do with beer or food.
Hap had been shoveling pancakes in his mouth as he sat on the living room sofa when he stopped, staring at Monroe with a befuddled look on his face.
“What?” Monroe asked, plopping down on the chair, plate in his own hands.
“Where’s my napkin?”
“You never use a napkin,” Monroe reminded him.
“I know, but you always give me one anyway.” Hap sat up a little. “And you put the pancake dishes in the sink instead of washing them as you go.”
“I’ll wash them later,” Monroe said, unsure of why he felt so panicky.
“You never wash them later.” Hap stared at Monroe long enough for Monroe to get a little nervous. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Monroe insisted, hoping his voice didn’t sound as weak to Hap as it did to himself.
Hap stared at him, confused. “It’s something,” he insisted. “Are you in trouble?” He looked alarmed. “Am I in trouble?”
Monroe sighed as he walked into the kitchen and retrieved a napkin, plunking it down beside Hap. “Is that better?”
Hap gave him a mournful look. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing!” Monroe insisted. He looked at the clock on the mantle. “Aren’t you supposed to be meeting the guys in a few minutes to pick up a keg for that party?”
“You think you can distract me, but it’s not going to work.” Hap squinted at Monroe. “I’m focused on this.”
“Okay,” Monroe said, trying to keep his voice light, “but I hope that they get a full keg.”
That was all it took. Hap shoved the remaining piece of pancake in his mouth and tossed his dirty dishes in the sink as he mumbled a thanks for the breakfast for dinner as he rushed out of the house.
That was enough to force Monroe to do his best to push Nick out of his mind so he could return to his routine.
Monroe forced his attention back to the present as he slid a glance over toward Nick, who’d finished hacking at the vegetables Monroe’d asked him to cut. He hadn’t done a terrible job, but it was obvious that he hadn’t spent much time in the kitchen. Fortunately, Monroe thought as he looked into the growing crowd in the living room, the clientele was more interested in shoveling food in their faces and consuming as much free beer as their bodies would allow than they were in the aesthetics of food decoration. And while he might not admit it out loud and technically didn’t really need it, Monroe appreciated the help.
“Hey, how’re the munchies coming?” Rosalee asked from the other side of the passthrough.
“I think we’re ready,” Monroe said, wiping his hands on his apron and examining the nachos. “Do you want the brownies now or later?”
“Let’s put them out later,” Rosalee decided, looking over at Nick.
“Oh! Sorry. Nick, this is Rosalee, Juliette’s roommate.” Monroe washed his hands and took the fruit plate out of the refrigerator.
“We’ve met,” Nick said, and Monroe watched him freeze for a brief second.
“I was doing door duty,” Rosalee said, “and met Nick and his roommates Hank and Wu when they arrived.”
Monroe looked at the two of them for another second, feeling that he was missing something, but they just looked back at him with overly innocent expressions that told him he wasn’t going to learn their secret and should just let it go. He sighed, acquiescing, and asked, “Do you want me to lay out the food on the counter?”
“That’d be great,” Rosalee said. “Let me grab some of the other stuff you stashed in my room, and then I’ll let everyone know that the food is ready.”
Monroe snorted, arranging Nick’s chopped apples onto a plate. “Just tell Hap, and everyone’ll know within seconds. On second thought, tell Hap last.”
Rosalee laughed. “He’ll eat all of the food before anyone else gets a chance?”
Monroe just rolled his eyes.
“Tell Wu,” Nick suggested, pulling the veggie platter out of the refrigerator and handing it to Monroe. “It sounds like he’s just as chatty as your friend, but his appetite might be a little more manageable.”
Rosalee nodded, heading toward the small Asian man who’d been chatting earlier with Hap and his friends by the keg – Hap’s contribution to the party.
Thanks to their two-man distribution line, they’d just managed to put out all of the food – minus the brownies – when people started crowding around the passthrough. Monroe quickly grabbed the buffet cards from where he’d stashed them on top of the refrigerator and placed them in front of each dish. He stepped back, satisfied, and saw Nick’s grin. “What?” He asked, a little self-consciously. “This way, the people with allergies and intolerances will know what’s in everything.”
Nick just shook his head. “You thought of everything.”
Monroe hid a burst of pride behind a shrug that he hoped looked casual. “This isn’t my first party.”
Nick looked at Monroe’s chest. “Is that supposed to explain the apron?”
Monroe pressed a hand against his chest and proudly ran it down the flannel apron that matched his shirt. “A friend of mine, Kirsten, made it for me last year. Isn’t it great?”
He felt Nick eyeballing him and felt his face go warm. “She’s a textiles & clothing minor.” He cleared his throat. “She, uh, also majors in Environmental Studies, and I helped her with, umm, a project that she, needed help with, so…” He realized he was rambling and snapped his mouth shut. Then he couldn’t help himself from adding, “It was a thank you.”
“That was very nice of her,” Nick said smiling, obviously enjoying Monroe’s discomfort.
Monroe knew he was staring, but Nick looked good in his black t-shirt, eyes twinkling. Actually, he just looked really, really good. Monroe heard himself mumbling something back but had no idea what he’d said. As long as Nick kept standing in front of him with that look on his face, Monroe didn’t even care. His world shrank to just the two of them in the kitchen, Nick smelling of a combination of the vegetables he’d just hacked and something Monroe was quickly thinking of as Nick’s distinctive smell.
A round of loud laughter broke the spell, and they both looked at the crowd through the passthrough.
“I wish I could cook even one of these,” Nick said, stepping beside Monroe and surveying the feast.
“I wish you could too.” Nick’s friend, Wu, dipped a chip into the spinach artichoke dip and popped it into his mouth. He closed his eyes and moaned, then opened his eyes and stared at Monroe. “Seriously. I’ll pay you a thousand dollars to teach Nick to cook like this.”
“You don’t even have ten dollars,” Nick said, the teasing tone of his voice telling Monroe that this was one of those roommate interactions that they probably had all the time.
“For food like this – ” Wu had to pause a second to pop a cauliflower popper into his mouth and swallow, “ – I will get the money. Drug trafficking, pole dancing, whatever it takes.”
Nick barely blinked. “The drug trafficking might not look so impressive when you’re trying to get into the academy.”
“That’s okay. I’d make better money working the pole anyway,” Wu said, doing some sort of slinky thing with his body, “I got moves.”
A tall black man strode up, clapping Wu on the shoulder. “We’ve talked about doing body rolls in public,” he said as he eyeballed the food. “What’s good?”
“It’s all good if Monroe made it,” Hap said, shouldering his way to the counter.
Embarrassed but pleased, Monroe quickly said, “Hap, this is Nick. Nick, this is Hap, my roommate and frequent pain in the – ”
“Dude!” Hap said. “I give you a compliment, and you are suddenly so unkind!” He grabbed a hand full of nachos, ignoring the napkins and small plates Monroe had placed on either side of the counter, shoving it all into his mouth at once. “Oh, man! My super nachos!” He smiled around the food. “I forgive you.”
Monroe sighed. “No talking with food in your mouth.”
Hap just grinned and shouldered his way past the cluster of people, most likely heading for the keg.
“Wow,” Nick said, watching people automatically creating a space for Hap.
“Yeah,” Monroe sighed. “Despite the fact that he has the manners of a three-year-old, he’s a really nice guy.”
“He looks like he has the appetite of an offensive tackle,” Wu said.
“Our food co-op almost voted us out,” Monroe admitted. “The problem is that he’s such a nice guy that they felt like they were kicking a kitten.”
“I’m sorry,” Nick said suddenly. “Hank and Wu, this is Monroe. Monroe, my roommates Hank and Wu.”
Monroe exchanged nods.
“So you really made all of this?” Hank asked.
“I cut the veggies and the apples,” Nick boasted.
“Yeah,” Wu said, slowly drawing out the word. “I was wondering what had happened over there.”
Monroe leaned back against the refrigerator and enjoyed the banter between the roommates. It was obvious that they liked each other and spent a lot of time together, and Monroe found himself laughing a little as he quietly replenished the dwindling food.
Eventually, Rosalee arrived with the brownies, which Monroe put out as she and Hank each took one and walked away, chatting.
Wu wiggled his eyebrows. “I think Hank found something he likes better than the food.” He snatched a brownie. “I better go mingle.” Another wiggle of his eyebrows, and he disappeared into the crowd.
Nick looked at Monroe. “What about you? Want to go mingle?”
What Monroe wanted to do was grab Nick, find a little corner, and get a little closer, but he reminded himself that Nick was not his to have. He just shook his head. “I’m not much of a partier,” he admitted.
“That’s right. You aren’t a people person.”
Monroe looked around, feeling a slight longing to be like Wu or Hank or even Nick, where he could just comfortably move around a crowd, but he’d never really been that guy. “Don’t feel like you have to stay here,” he said, reluctantly.
Nick shook his head. “It’s comfortable in here.” He smiled at Monroe. “And I like the company.”
Monroe dipped his head as he felt his cheeks warm. He was a grown man, and here he was blushing like… like someone much, much younger. At a loss, he suddenly blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I’d wanted to make something with kohlrabi, but Juliette and Rosalee ganged up and outvoted me.”
Nick blinked, obviously trying to keep up with the change in subject, and Monroe groaned inwardly at himself.
“Okay, I don’t know what that is,” Nick said finally.
“It’s a vegetable related to cabbage and broccoli. I’ve found some really good recipes that I’ve wanted to try out…” As he heard the words escaping from his mouth, Monroe’s mind asked why he kept talking. Again. Finally the words dried up, leaving Monroe silent and embarrassed.
“I’m not sure about that kohlrabi, but Wu had a great idea about helping me learn how to cook. Is there any way I could convince you to give me a lesson, maybe teach me how to make Hap’s nachos?” Nick’d grabbed the mostly-empty nacho platter and had scraped up what little was left with the last remaining chips. He now held out the empty dish to Monroe. “These were fantastic!”
Monroe grinned. “It’s not really difficult. I could give you the recipe – ”
“I might’ve fooled you with my remarkable vegetable cutting skills, but I’m pretty hopeless in the kitchen.”
“He totally is,” Hank agreed, sighing as he looked down at the empty dishes. “I missed seconds on the nachos?”
“All three of you look like you’ve been doing okay,” Monroe said, taking the platter from Nick and laying down a row of chips.
“Lots of cans, lots of boxes,” Nick informed him.
“And lots of milk for all of the cereal we eat,” Hank said.
Monroe added shredded cheese over a layer of meat sauce and followed with another layer of sauce. “It really isn’t that difficult.”
“Terrific, because I don’t think I’m up to anything too complicated.”
“It doesn’t even require that many ingredients,” Monroe said, attempting to worm his way out of something that sounded way too promising.
“Then it shouldn’t take you that long to teach me, right?” Nick asked with what looked like a hopeful smile on his face.
Monroe had braced himself for the smile; it was the earnest look in Nick’s eyes that had him folding like a wet paper towel. He sighed. “Fine.” He put the concoction into the oven and took out one he’d slipped in earlier. Sprinkling some shredded cheese along the top, he returned the platter to the counter.
“All right!” Hank said, grabbing a small plate and piling it full. He was gently pushed aside as a woman piled some on her plate as well.
Hap suddenly appeared. “Monroe, man, I’m just gonna – ” he snatched the mostly-full platter and disappeared back into the crowd.
“Were we just witness to a food hit and run?” Nick asked, half-smile on his face.
“It’s about the only time Hap’ll move that fast,” Monroe admitted. A rousing cheer rose from the direction of the keg. “He must’ve made it back safely.” He turned to find Nick shoveling the artichoke dip into his mouth with a carrot.
“This is good too!” Nick sounded surprised, but Monroe couldn’t find the annoyance that would’ve normally accompanied a comment like that. Nick grabbed a sweet potato chip and dipped it into the hummus.
“That’s not really – ” Monroe winced as he watched Nick shove the strange combination into his mouth, chewing a couple of times, looking thoughtful.
“Those really weren’t made to go together,” Monroe said, trying not to sound defensive. The sweet potato chips were really good, but they hadn’t been designed to dip into hummus.
“It’s surprisingly tasty,” Nick said, grabbing a few more chips.
The rest of the evening seemed to pass in a haze of inappropriate food combinations (Hank tried the cauliflower poppers with Monroe’s homemade ketchup created for that purpose but then had to go and drop a dollop of hummus right on top. Not to be outdone, Wu put some of the chips on his quince tart and declared it delicious. Even Rosalee joined in, smothering her fig and prosciutto flatbread with the hummus. Monroe’d finally thrown up his arms and declared that he was washing his hands of it all and wouldn’t be responsible for any and all stomach aches resulting from their bad decisions.) and flirty looks from Nick. The first actually made him proud that everyone was enjoying his food so much, and the second had him agreeing to almost anything Nick suggested.
Which was how he found himself standing outside of Nick’s apartment building, grocery bags in hand, the following Friday night.
On to Chapter 3
Chapter 2
Three days later, Juliette texted, “Dinner on Friday, 7pm. Bring your roommates and wine. Good wine.”
Nick hid his phone underneath his desk in the lecture hall and answered, “Thanx. I owe u 2.”
“So very much,” Juliette texted back, followed by three smiley emoticons.
By the time Wu and Hank dragged Nick out of their apartment Friday night, he’d changed his clothes three times.
“How can it take you so long?” Hank complained, hand firmly pulling Nick out of the door. “You own, like, seven t-shirts, and four of them are black.”
“Don’t forget the three pair of jeans,” Wu added helpfully, locking the door.
“It’s a dinner party that might or might not turn into a kegger. How do I dress for that and still look good?”
“Don’t worry,” Wu said, pushing his way past his roommates and starting down the stairs. “Your ass looks just as terrific in all of them.”
Hank and Nick shared a confused – and slightly uncomfortable look – before shrugging and following.
Juliette and Rosalee’s apartment was slightly less than a mile away, and they decided to walk, stopping off at a nearby liquor store for the promised bottle of wine.
“So this party will probably be full of GN-olas, huh?” Wu asked.
“I’m not the only JT student Juliette knows,” Nick said, “I don’t know how many people she invited, so we’ll have to see.”
“You guys think we’ll have any problems?”
Nick looked over at Hank. There’d been quite a few parties that had gone into history as competitive throw-downs between the two schools. He’d never been involved or even seen one, so he liked to picture a bunch of bearded, long haired guys in sandals throwing hacky sacks and tie-dyed tee-shirts.
Hank finally shook his head, answering Wu. “It’s a dinner party. How bad can it get? Besides, the whole point of this is to aim Nick here toward his boy and let those big eyes do their magic.”
Nick frowned. “What big eyes?”
Wu snorted. “Juliette probably went out with you in the first place because you reminded her of those cute little puppies she has to hold at the animal hospital. You know, the ones who are in pain, with big old tears gathering in their huge eyes.”
“So you’re calling me a hurt dog?” Nick complained lightly.
“No,” Wu said promptly. “I’m calling you a hurt puppy. How’re you going to make a decent cop if you don’t pay attention to the details?”
They arrived ten minutes late, able to walk straight into the apartment building thanks to a well-placed street cone holding the normally locked front door open.
Hank frowned, looking at the orange cone. “That’s not very safe.”
“No one’d be dumb enough to try to mess with them when they have three strong men – and Nick – to protect them.”
Nick gave Wu a look. “Remember that introduction to Suzanna you wanted?”
“I separated you, because you’re the strongest and wisest of all,” Wu said without a pause.
“You can pull anything out of your ass, can’t you?” Hank asked, following Wu up the stairs.
“It’s a gift,” Wu said. “What floor?”
“Third,” Nick said. “Apartment 301.”
“Why does everyone we know, including us, live on the top floor?” Hank complained.
“Because it’s so much fun to see drunk people falling down multiple flights of stairs at the butt crack of dawn?” Wu hazarded.
Nick laughed as they walked up to the door. He raised his hand to knock, but the door swung open.
“Hey,” Rosalee said, smiling. “Come on in.”
“What are you, psychic?” Wu asked. Nick could tell he was only partially joking.
“I heard you on the way up. The acoustics in this building are great – as long as you want everyone to know your business.” She looked at Hank. “Everyone who lives in the building is either here at the party or in class, and we made sure all of the other apartment doors are locked. We try to be safe.”
Hank just stared and grunted out something indecipherable, shoving the bottle of wine at Rosalee, who smiled and thanked him, almost making Hank dissolve into a puddle of happiness right in front of them.
Wu and Nick shared a grin before Nick made the introductions. “Rosalee, these are my roommates Wu and Hank. Wu and Hank, this is Rosalee, Juliette’s roommate.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Wu said, smiling before he looked around the small apartment. “Nice place.”
“It’s small, but it’s perfect for us,” Rosalee said, surveying the room as well. “We both live here year, ‘round, so we don’t have to worry about finding a new apartment every year.”
Nick turned and saw Monroe’s back through the passthrough to the kitchen, and he felt his mouth go dry. Monroe was wearing a blue flannel shirt, and his shoulders seemed to fill the small area. Nick had never seen him standing, and he’d had no idea the other man was so tall.
Hank’s gentle nudge caught his attention. “You gonna go in there or just stare at him from here?”
Ignoring Hank, Wu, and Rosalee’s grins, Nick walked into the kitchen. “Hey.”
“Hey, Nick,” Juliette said, closing the refrigerator door. “Monroe, this is Nick, Nick, this is Monroe.” She gave them both a guileless smile that had Nick wondering if she weren’t more suited for the theater than a vet’s office.
Monroe stood frozen, obviously surprised.
“We’ve met,” Nick said, smiling, trying not to laugh at Monroe’s matching flannel apron.
Juliette peered into the living room. “It looks like we have some more guests. I’d better get out there and help Rosalee – that is if you wouldn’t mind helping Monroe, Nick?” She gave them both another innocent smile.
“Not a problem,” Nick assured her as he faced her, mouthing a thanks before she left the room. He turned back to Monroe, who stood staring at him with squinted eyes, as if he were trying to figure something out.
“I told you I’d see you again,” Nick said, rolling up his sleeves. “Where do you want me?” He suppressed a smile when he watched Monroe force down a swallow.
“First you need to wash those hands. Who knows where they’ve been?”
Nick had to force back a series of smart-ass answers, cursing Wu’s bad influence, and washed before turning back to Monroe, holding out dripping hands like a surgeon. “What next?”
“Next you dry your hands,” Monroe muttered, grabbing a cloth and rubbing it over Nick’s hands. “Philistine.”
Nick looked down, fascinated by the size of Monroe’s hands as they covered his. Despite Monroe’s gruff look, he was surprisingly gentle… and warm, Nick realized as he took a small step closer.
He wasn’t sure how long they stood there before he realized that Monroe had finished drying his hands, but he decided that he didn’t really care.
“Umm, we’d better get back or the rest of the appetizers will never be ready,” Monroe said, finally stepping back and turning toward the stove.
“And what are we having tonight?” Nick asked.
“I was going to make an actual dinner, you know, appetizer, main course, dessert, but Juliette called me yesterday and told me that the party had gotten bigger than she expected, so we decided to just make a variety of appetizers.” Monroe glanced at Nick, who pretended not to notice. “The challenge was to find something that everyone could eat.”
“Because of allergies?”
“And dietary choices. Juliette and Rosalee are friends with pretty much everyone. Some people are gluten-free, some vegetarian. Others are vegan, and then we have a couple of people who might be showing up who have intolerances to cinnamon, garlic, and black pepper.” He must’ve noticed Nick’s look, because he added, “Seriously. That’s one of the reasons why Juliette always asks me to make the food.
“The brownies – gluten free – are hiding out in Rosalee’s room with the chips, because Hap’s friends are like locusts.”
Nick smiled, leaning against the passthrough, happy to just watch Monroe move around the kitchen as they talked. “They leave nothing in their wake?”
Monroe nodded. “You’re lucky if there’s a crumb left.” He opened the oven, peering in for a second before nodding and pushing it closed. “The fig and prosciutto flatbreads, cauliflower poppers, and spinach artichoke dip are all ready.” He nodded toward a group of covered dishes on the corner of the counter. “I’m keeping an eye on the upside-down tart in the oven right now, so if I can get you to cut up a few things, I can finish Hap’s super nachos, and we’ll be set.”
“That’s… a lot of food,” Nick said.
Monroe suddenly looked nervous. “I hadn’t planned on making so many dishes, but with – ”
“It sounds good,” Nick said hastily. “The parties I’ve gone to, you’d be lucky to find one bag of chips for everyone to share.” He shrugged. “I’m not used to being so spoiled.”
Monroe bent his head, as if to hide a smile. “I like to cook, so…”
“Ever thought about becoming a chef?”
Monroe shook his head. “It’s a hobby, something I like to do every once in a while. Doing it professionally…”
“…would turn it from fun into an obligation?” Nick supplied.
“Yeah,” Monroe said, looking at him, his gaze considering. After a few seconds, he shook his head a little and said, “Hap’s nachos have steak.”
“Meat! Fantastic!” Nick rubbed his hands together happily, taking the abrupt conversation turn in stride.
Monroe rolled his eyes while he slid a cutting board in front of Nick and plopped some apples, carrots, broccoli, and cauliflower to the side. He paused for a moment with a large knife, eyeballing Nick.
“Think I’m gonna go crazy with the knife and carve up everybody?” Nick teased. He made a slow perusal of Monroe, making sure Monroe was aware that he was taking in the whole package. “Starting with you?”
Monroe gave him a small smile. “I think I could take you.”
“I don’t know,” Nick teased. “I’m stronger than I look.”
Monroe eyeballed Nick back, his gaze sending heat everywhere he looked until Nick found himself almost out of breath. After a few seconds, Monroe blinked, flushed, and turned away. “Let me rinse this off for you…”
Nick smiled, looking absently out into the living room. He hadn’t even been there fifteen minutes, and things were definitely looking good. He saw Hank and Rosalee talking over by a window. Well, Rosalee was talking; Hank just nodded, a besotted smile on his face. Nick wondered if Hank even heard a single thing she was saying.
Nick took the knife Monroe handed him and absently began cutting as he looked for his other friend.
Wu stood behind the sofa, chatting animatedly with three large men. He seemed like a child standing among grownups, forced to look up as they spoke, his neatly trimmed hair and black t-shirt a stark contrast to their wild manes and t-shirts covered with band names. Two of the three men had long beards; one had braided his, a look Nick found a little puzzling. One of the men shifted, completely obscuring Wu from Nick’s view but revealing a rather large keg. “That explains it,” he muttered.
“What explains what?” Monroe asked, doing a poor job at being subtle as he eyeballed Nick’s cutting skills.
“My friend Wu,” Nick tilted his head in Wu’s direction, “was worried that there might be tension between the two schools tonight.
Monroe snorted. “Hap brought a keg. The one thing he’s taught me is that the right amount of alcohol is great at making friends. Too much or too little, and you end up having to bail people out of jail and clean blood up off the floor.” He looked a little stricken after the words had slipped from his mouth.
“I’ve heard of lots of trouble over the years over a keg,” Nick said, deliberately not reacting to the fact that Monroe sounded like he’d had to do both of those things. Repeatedly.
“Yeah, but I bet Hap wasn’t there,” Monroe said mildly, his attention on the stove. “He’s a big goof.”
“The current thinking is that genetics and the way alcohol effects our neurological system play a part in it, along with our current mood and stress levels when… we… drink.” Nick finally stopped his awkward lecture and shot a glance at Monroe, who thankfully seemed amused rather than bored. He cleared his throat and stepped back. “How’s this?”
“Perfect!” Monroe exclaimed.
Nick looked back at the various sizes of the vegetables he’d just cut. The job was by no means perfect, but he thought it was good enough for college students just happy for free food. He did enjoy the feeling Monroe’s words had given him, though.
G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M
Monroe knew he wasn’t a roll-with-it kind of guy. Sure, he’d handled it fine when Bud had planted zucchini in the area Monroe had previously designated for radishes (and if he’d possibly torn open some seed bags in the storage shed that he’d guiltily sewn up later, well no one else needed to know), and he hadn’t even had to smother a growl of annoyance when Juliette replaced his dinner menu with her appetizer request. But he hadn’t expected to run into Nick again.
Sure, the other man had said that he’d see Monroe again, but really, what were the odds when they’d only met once in three years? He’d done his best to dismiss the other man from his mind, but he’d found himself staring into space every once in a while, every part of their conversation running through his mind. It hadn’t really bothered him until the day Hap noticed – and Hap rarely noticed anything that had nothing to do with beer or food.
Hap had been shoveling pancakes in his mouth as he sat on the living room sofa when he stopped, staring at Monroe with a befuddled look on his face.
“What?” Monroe asked, plopping down on the chair, plate in his own hands.
“Where’s my napkin?”
“You never use a napkin,” Monroe reminded him.
“I know, but you always give me one anyway.” Hap sat up a little. “And you put the pancake dishes in the sink instead of washing them as you go.”
“I’ll wash them later,” Monroe said, unsure of why he felt so panicky.
“You never wash them later.” Hap stared at Monroe long enough for Monroe to get a little nervous. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Monroe insisted, hoping his voice didn’t sound as weak to Hap as it did to himself.
Hap stared at him, confused. “It’s something,” he insisted. “Are you in trouble?” He looked alarmed. “Am I in trouble?”
Monroe sighed as he walked into the kitchen and retrieved a napkin, plunking it down beside Hap. “Is that better?”
Hap gave him a mournful look. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing!” Monroe insisted. He looked at the clock on the mantle. “Aren’t you supposed to be meeting the guys in a few minutes to pick up a keg for that party?”
“You think you can distract me, but it’s not going to work.” Hap squinted at Monroe. “I’m focused on this.”
“Okay,” Monroe said, trying to keep his voice light, “but I hope that they get a full keg.”
That was all it took. Hap shoved the remaining piece of pancake in his mouth and tossed his dirty dishes in the sink as he mumbled a thanks for the breakfast for dinner as he rushed out of the house.
That was enough to force Monroe to do his best to push Nick out of his mind so he could return to his routine.
Monroe forced his attention back to the present as he slid a glance over toward Nick, who’d finished hacking at the vegetables Monroe’d asked him to cut. He hadn’t done a terrible job, but it was obvious that he hadn’t spent much time in the kitchen. Fortunately, Monroe thought as he looked into the growing crowd in the living room, the clientele was more interested in shoveling food in their faces and consuming as much free beer as their bodies would allow than they were in the aesthetics of food decoration. And while he might not admit it out loud and technically didn’t really need it, Monroe appreciated the help.
“Hey, how’re the munchies coming?” Rosalee asked from the other side of the passthrough.
“I think we’re ready,” Monroe said, wiping his hands on his apron and examining the nachos. “Do you want the brownies now or later?”
“Let’s put them out later,” Rosalee decided, looking over at Nick.
“Oh! Sorry. Nick, this is Rosalee, Juliette’s roommate.” Monroe washed his hands and took the fruit plate out of the refrigerator.
“We’ve met,” Nick said, and Monroe watched him freeze for a brief second.
“I was doing door duty,” Rosalee said, “and met Nick and his roommates Hank and Wu when they arrived.”
Monroe looked at the two of them for another second, feeling that he was missing something, but they just looked back at him with overly innocent expressions that told him he wasn’t going to learn their secret and should just let it go. He sighed, acquiescing, and asked, “Do you want me to lay out the food on the counter?”
“That’d be great,” Rosalee said. “Let me grab some of the other stuff you stashed in my room, and then I’ll let everyone know that the food is ready.”
Monroe snorted, arranging Nick’s chopped apples onto a plate. “Just tell Hap, and everyone’ll know within seconds. On second thought, tell Hap last.”
Rosalee laughed. “He’ll eat all of the food before anyone else gets a chance?”
Monroe just rolled his eyes.
“Tell Wu,” Nick suggested, pulling the veggie platter out of the refrigerator and handing it to Monroe. “It sounds like he’s just as chatty as your friend, but his appetite might be a little more manageable.”
Rosalee nodded, heading toward the small Asian man who’d been chatting earlier with Hap and his friends by the keg – Hap’s contribution to the party.
Thanks to their two-man distribution line, they’d just managed to put out all of the food – minus the brownies – when people started crowding around the passthrough. Monroe quickly grabbed the buffet cards from where he’d stashed them on top of the refrigerator and placed them in front of each dish. He stepped back, satisfied, and saw Nick’s grin. “What?” He asked, a little self-consciously. “This way, the people with allergies and intolerances will know what’s in everything.”
Nick just shook his head. “You thought of everything.”
Monroe hid a burst of pride behind a shrug that he hoped looked casual. “This isn’t my first party.”
Nick looked at Monroe’s chest. “Is that supposed to explain the apron?”
Monroe pressed a hand against his chest and proudly ran it down the flannel apron that matched his shirt. “A friend of mine, Kirsten, made it for me last year. Isn’t it great?”
He felt Nick eyeballing him and felt his face go warm. “She’s a textiles & clothing minor.” He cleared his throat. “She, uh, also majors in Environmental Studies, and I helped her with, umm, a project that she, needed help with, so…” He realized he was rambling and snapped his mouth shut. Then he couldn’t help himself from adding, “It was a thank you.”
“That was very nice of her,” Nick said smiling, obviously enjoying Monroe’s discomfort.
Monroe knew he was staring, but Nick looked good in his black t-shirt, eyes twinkling. Actually, he just looked really, really good. Monroe heard himself mumbling something back but had no idea what he’d said. As long as Nick kept standing in front of him with that look on his face, Monroe didn’t even care. His world shrank to just the two of them in the kitchen, Nick smelling of a combination of the vegetables he’d just hacked and something Monroe was quickly thinking of as Nick’s distinctive smell.
A round of loud laughter broke the spell, and they both looked at the crowd through the passthrough.
“I wish I could cook even one of these,” Nick said, stepping beside Monroe and surveying the feast.
“I wish you could too.” Nick’s friend, Wu, dipped a chip into the spinach artichoke dip and popped it into his mouth. He closed his eyes and moaned, then opened his eyes and stared at Monroe. “Seriously. I’ll pay you a thousand dollars to teach Nick to cook like this.”
“You don’t even have ten dollars,” Nick said, the teasing tone of his voice telling Monroe that this was one of those roommate interactions that they probably had all the time.
“For food like this – ” Wu had to pause a second to pop a cauliflower popper into his mouth and swallow, “ – I will get the money. Drug trafficking, pole dancing, whatever it takes.”
Nick barely blinked. “The drug trafficking might not look so impressive when you’re trying to get into the academy.”
“That’s okay. I’d make better money working the pole anyway,” Wu said, doing some sort of slinky thing with his body, “I got moves.”
A tall black man strode up, clapping Wu on the shoulder. “We’ve talked about doing body rolls in public,” he said as he eyeballed the food. “What’s good?”
“It’s all good if Monroe made it,” Hap said, shouldering his way to the counter.
Embarrassed but pleased, Monroe quickly said, “Hap, this is Nick. Nick, this is Hap, my roommate and frequent pain in the – ”
“Dude!” Hap said. “I give you a compliment, and you are suddenly so unkind!” He grabbed a hand full of nachos, ignoring the napkins and small plates Monroe had placed on either side of the counter, shoving it all into his mouth at once. “Oh, man! My super nachos!” He smiled around the food. “I forgive you.”
Monroe sighed. “No talking with food in your mouth.”
Hap just grinned and shouldered his way past the cluster of people, most likely heading for the keg.
“Wow,” Nick said, watching people automatically creating a space for Hap.
“Yeah,” Monroe sighed. “Despite the fact that he has the manners of a three-year-old, he’s a really nice guy.”
“He looks like he has the appetite of an offensive tackle,” Wu said.
“Our food co-op almost voted us out,” Monroe admitted. “The problem is that he’s such a nice guy that they felt like they were kicking a kitten.”
“I’m sorry,” Nick said suddenly. “Hank and Wu, this is Monroe. Monroe, my roommates Hank and Wu.”
Monroe exchanged nods.
“So you really made all of this?” Hank asked.
“I cut the veggies and the apples,” Nick boasted.
“Yeah,” Wu said, slowly drawing out the word. “I was wondering what had happened over there.”
Monroe leaned back against the refrigerator and enjoyed the banter between the roommates. It was obvious that they liked each other and spent a lot of time together, and Monroe found himself laughing a little as he quietly replenished the dwindling food.
Eventually, Rosalee arrived with the brownies, which Monroe put out as she and Hank each took one and walked away, chatting.
Wu wiggled his eyebrows. “I think Hank found something he likes better than the food.” He snatched a brownie. “I better go mingle.” Another wiggle of his eyebrows, and he disappeared into the crowd.
Nick looked at Monroe. “What about you? Want to go mingle?”
What Monroe wanted to do was grab Nick, find a little corner, and get a little closer, but he reminded himself that Nick was not his to have. He just shook his head. “I’m not much of a partier,” he admitted.
“That’s right. You aren’t a people person.”
Monroe looked around, feeling a slight longing to be like Wu or Hank or even Nick, where he could just comfortably move around a crowd, but he’d never really been that guy. “Don’t feel like you have to stay here,” he said, reluctantly.
Nick shook his head. “It’s comfortable in here.” He smiled at Monroe. “And I like the company.”
Monroe dipped his head as he felt his cheeks warm. He was a grown man, and here he was blushing like… like someone much, much younger. At a loss, he suddenly blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I’d wanted to make something with kohlrabi, but Juliette and Rosalee ganged up and outvoted me.”
Nick blinked, obviously trying to keep up with the change in subject, and Monroe groaned inwardly at himself.
“Okay, I don’t know what that is,” Nick said finally.
“It’s a vegetable related to cabbage and broccoli. I’ve found some really good recipes that I’ve wanted to try out…” As he heard the words escaping from his mouth, Monroe’s mind asked why he kept talking. Again. Finally the words dried up, leaving Monroe silent and embarrassed.
“I’m not sure about that kohlrabi, but Wu had a great idea about helping me learn how to cook. Is there any way I could convince you to give me a lesson, maybe teach me how to make Hap’s nachos?” Nick’d grabbed the mostly-empty nacho platter and had scraped up what little was left with the last remaining chips. He now held out the empty dish to Monroe. “These were fantastic!”
Monroe grinned. “It’s not really difficult. I could give you the recipe – ”
“I might’ve fooled you with my remarkable vegetable cutting skills, but I’m pretty hopeless in the kitchen.”
“He totally is,” Hank agreed, sighing as he looked down at the empty dishes. “I missed seconds on the nachos?”
“All three of you look like you’ve been doing okay,” Monroe said, taking the platter from Nick and laying down a row of chips.
“Lots of cans, lots of boxes,” Nick informed him.
“And lots of milk for all of the cereal we eat,” Hank said.
Monroe added shredded cheese over a layer of meat sauce and followed with another layer of sauce. “It really isn’t that difficult.”
“Terrific, because I don’t think I’m up to anything too complicated.”
“It doesn’t even require that many ingredients,” Monroe said, attempting to worm his way out of something that sounded way too promising.
“Then it shouldn’t take you that long to teach me, right?” Nick asked with what looked like a hopeful smile on his face.
Monroe had braced himself for the smile; it was the earnest look in Nick’s eyes that had him folding like a wet paper towel. He sighed. “Fine.” He put the concoction into the oven and took out one he’d slipped in earlier. Sprinkling some shredded cheese along the top, he returned the platter to the counter.
“All right!” Hank said, grabbing a small plate and piling it full. He was gently pushed aside as a woman piled some on her plate as well.
Hap suddenly appeared. “Monroe, man, I’m just gonna – ” he snatched the mostly-full platter and disappeared back into the crowd.
“Were we just witness to a food hit and run?” Nick asked, half-smile on his face.
“It’s about the only time Hap’ll move that fast,” Monroe admitted. A rousing cheer rose from the direction of the keg. “He must’ve made it back safely.” He turned to find Nick shoveling the artichoke dip into his mouth with a carrot.
“This is good too!” Nick sounded surprised, but Monroe couldn’t find the annoyance that would’ve normally accompanied a comment like that. Nick grabbed a sweet potato chip and dipped it into the hummus.
“That’s not really – ” Monroe winced as he watched Nick shove the strange combination into his mouth, chewing a couple of times, looking thoughtful.
“Those really weren’t made to go together,” Monroe said, trying not to sound defensive. The sweet potato chips were really good, but they hadn’t been designed to dip into hummus.
“It’s surprisingly tasty,” Nick said, grabbing a few more chips.
The rest of the evening seemed to pass in a haze of inappropriate food combinations (Hank tried the cauliflower poppers with Monroe’s homemade ketchup created for that purpose but then had to go and drop a dollop of hummus right on top. Not to be outdone, Wu put some of the chips on his quince tart and declared it delicious. Even Rosalee joined in, smothering her fig and prosciutto flatbread with the hummus. Monroe’d finally thrown up his arms and declared that he was washing his hands of it all and wouldn’t be responsible for any and all stomach aches resulting from their bad decisions.) and flirty looks from Nick. The first actually made him proud that everyone was enjoying his food so much, and the second had him agreeing to almost anything Nick suggested.
Which was how he found himself standing outside of Nick’s apartment building, grocery bags in hand, the following Friday night.
On to Chapter 3
