From My Love to My Life (MXM) (sequel to From My Enemy to My Love)

Chapter 8

Gareth Scoville

"Let me get this straight," I said into the phone while I taped shut one of the boxes. "Alex wanted to go to the club, but you didn't so you stayed home and he went by himself?"

"Yeah," Mateo said as if that were an everyday thing.

I sighed, stood up, stretched and went to the next box. "You should have just gone with him," I said.

"Why?" he asked. It was clear by his tone that he was now getting annoyed. "I don't like going to the clubs."

"Because it would be a date with your boyfriend."

"I see him everyday," he said.

"That doesn't count as dates, Maty. You've still got to go on dates."

"Why?"

"And people say I'm frustrating," I muttered. "Because it sustains your relationship," I said to him, "shows him you still care, keeps things interesting. Just do it, Maty. Do what he wants to do sometimes and he can do what you want to do sometimes."

Mateo sighed into the phone and then said, "At least he's talking to me again. Will you please stop packing while I'm talking to you? The sound of the tape is really loud in my ears."

I rolled my eyes but put the tape down.

"Do you need me to come help you move?" he asked.

"No," I said. "I've got everything pretty much packed up and I hired movers to haul the boxes and furniture."

"I love my parents," he said, "but I don't want to go back and live with them."

"I've been looking at apartments," I said. "I don't think I'll have to live with my parents for long. We should hang up and you should go to the club and have fun with Alex."

"But I don't like the club."

"But Alex does. Like I said before, do something you don't like for this date and next time you guys can do something you like."

"I think you just want me to hang up so you can get back to packing," he said.

"Yes," I said. "But also I think you should go on a date with your boyfriend."

"Fine," he said, "I'll let you get back to packing."

"And you'll go on a date with your boyfriend," I told him.

"Yes," he said.

We hung up and I looked around my bedroom. Movers were going to be there first thing in the morning. Everything was ready except for last minute things I would be taking with me in my car. I pulled out my sketchbook and a pencil and began to draw. As I did, I began to remember the conversation I had with Chet several days ago and his question asking if I was secretly in love with someone. It wasn't the first time my mind had drifted to that conversation over the days. It bothered me more than I wanted to admit. The more I thought about it the more uncertain I became, but I couldn't think of who I could secretly be in love with.

Maybe if I made a list of the things that had attracted me to my past girlfriends, I could figure it out. I turned the sketchbook to a fresh page and thought back to what originally made me notice them. Abby had been reading when I first noticed her. Yep, a woman reading was attractive. I wrote that down. Lucy had been speaking French on the phone and Rosie had been speaking Spanish. I wrote down speaking a second language. Marcy had been having an intelligent conversation with colleagues. I wrote down smart. Alyssa had literally twisted a guy's wrist so hard he ended up on his knees when he tried to touch her inappropriately. I wasn't certain what to write for that one. Strong, martial arts, self defense, they all rang true to me. I wrote down self defense. Cindy had been volunteering at a place that delivered meals to homebound seniors. It didn't necessarily have to be volunteer work though, I had been attracted to Megan when she helped a lost child find her parents in the store. I wrote down helpful.

I paused as I looked at my list. Everyone I had dated had at least one of these qualities but I couldn't remember any of them having all of the qualities. I stretched it out to people - I had only ever been attracted to women, but I wasn't closed to the possibility I might some time be attracted to someone else - I had known through college and my career. There was no one who had all of these qualities that I could think of.

Instead of making myself frustrated over it, I set aside my sketchbook and opened my laptop to watch mindless shows.

I had to wake extra early in the morning for the movers. I wasn't too happy about it, but it had to be done. I arrived at my parents before the movers. Both my mom and dad were there to greet me. I rearranged their furniture on a temporary basis so there would be room for both my furniture and theirs until I could get my own apartment.

My mom had to go to work in the evening - she was a manager at a grocery store - so my dad ordered us delivery sub sandwiches.

"So," he said when we were about halfway through eating. "What's your game plan?"

I managed to refrain from rolling my eyes. Leave it to the high school P.E. teacher to phrase it that way. In high school he had sometimes made comments to me about how he wished I would be on a sports team like Chet and Mateo. But I had no desire to play sports. I liked sports, but only on a casual basis. I never had any desire to be on a team or play once a week or more. Sometimes I had thought my dad would have rather had Chet or Mateo as a son, but he had the decency to never say so.

I had already gone over my plans with him, but I told him again anyway. My plans were to get my own apartment, work on the game I wanted to develop and then release it. I wanted to get the game almost finished before I registered my own gaming company. I reassured him I had saved up enough money to live off of for a year and if that year came and went and my game wasn't released yet, I would take freelance art jobs to pay the bills.

While my mom had always been supportive of my dreams to be an artist in some capacity, my father was more of a realist and worried I wouldn't be able to make a sustainable living with art through retirement age. He showed some hesitance now as I went through my plans, but to his credit, he was trying to be understanding. He simply swallowed away his fears and nodded without dispute as I told him my plans.

It was weird being back in the house I had grown up in. Unlike Mateo and Chet, I was an only child. I didn't have any memories of a brother or sister running around the house playing with me, but I did have memories of friends. Sometimes I would get jealous when I saw Chet or Mateo playing with their siblings when we were little, but I had buried those feelings down deep and pretended I was okay with it. I was now. Looking back on it, I thought it was a little silly I had ever thought that way. Silly, but reality. I had to decide that my life was a little different from theirs, but that was okay and that I wasn't lacking because I didn't have siblings.

Over the next few days, I looked at apartments in my price range. I finally decided on one and signed the lease papers. Instead of going straight home after, I stopped at a little coffee place. The woman in front of me ordered four coffees and four muffins. Her back was to me, but there was something endearing about her. Then when she said something in French to the barista and they laughed as if they did this every day - maybe they did - she became attractive even though I still hadn't seen her face. I ordered a simple coffee and followed her as she left the shop. Her long black hair shifted with the gentle breeze.

I kept my distance and convinced myself we just happened to be walking in the same direction even though my car was back in the parking lot. It was a nice day with the sun shining down and the gentle, cool breeze so why wouldn't I want to take a short walk?

She cut through the park, walked straight towards a homeless man who sat on the grass near a bench. She gave him two of the coffees and two of the muffins. I had to slow down my pace. The two seemed familiar with each other as they chatted briefly before she continued on her way. When we were out of earshot of the man, I said, "That was nice of you."

She turned to face me. Recognition sparked in her eyes and a wide smile came to her lips. "Gareth," she greeted happily.

But all I could think was, shit, because Kanni did not look like a baby anymore.

A/N: I knew in the first book as soon as he said that Kanni would always look like a baby to him that those words would come back to bite him in the butt some day. I had debated whether to put chapters of Kannika and Gareth into this book or just let the readers find out when the main characters find out, but that felt weird so they are going to get some chapters of their own.