The Men Next Door

Ch 11 - Campbell

Another week passed by, and I was settling into the city nicely. Work was going well, Addy and I were getting closer, and my apartment was finally feeling like a home instead of a hotel room. But there was still one thing — okay, two people, if you want to be technical — weighing on my mind.

Brooks kept a steady, friendly presence without ever hinting at more. It seemed like he was waiting for me to make the next move before he showed any of his cards. And normally, I would appreciate the lack of assumptions... but his detachment felt a whole lot like disinterest after our heart-to-heart on my couch.

Especially when Luca was taking the exact opposite approach.

After our night in the shower, he tried to set up a couple casual dates throughout the week. He wanted to take me to brunch or a Greenmarket or a Knicks game — anything I'd say yes to, really. But I couldn't say yes when I was so conflicted about what I'd done with the other man next door.

Brooks. Luca's best friend. How fucked up was that?

I made excuses each time Luca reached out to avoid hurting his feelings. I already had plans with Addy, I told him. Or I was working late that night to help cover the gap from a coworker who quit. None of it was true, and I think he knew that, even though he never called me out on it.

That alone was such a contrast from Brooks' directness.

Even though they both stayed in touch throughout the week, I hadn't bumped into either of them in person. It was nice to finally have everything situated after the move, and I'd been holing up in my cozy new abode like a hermit. But I knew I'd have to face the music eventually, and as far as I was concerned, there was only one way to gain the upper hand.

I had to invite them both over for dinner.

Sound like a stupid idea? Well, that's because it was. But spontaneity clearly made me lose my damn mind when it came to these men, so orchestrating our next run-in seemed like my best bet... until five minutes before they were supposed to show up.

By then, it was far too late to cancel on them. Plus, I was pretty sure Brooks would come check on me if I did, and I wanted to face them at the same time. That made it less likely for either of them to bring up what we did, or why I was practically avoiding them, or any other awkward conversations that were bound to happen eventually. So I turned off the burner under my stir fry, took an ashwagandha supplement, and lit a lavender candle, hoping the combination of calming herbs and scents would work swiftly on my nerves.

No sooner than the wood wick began to glow orange, I heard the first knock ring out from across the room. I nearly burned myself with the way I jumped — as if I was hiding from an elusive killer in a horror movie — and I shook out my arms to release a ridiculous amount of tension before I pulled the door open.

Coming face-to-face with Brooks made me want to slam it closed again.

The last time he was here, he had me writhing on my bed after a tour of Campbell's Sex Toy Museum. What was I even supposed to say to him now? Welcome back? I'll keep my clothes on this time? I hid everything remotely phallic, just in case it brought up any memories for you?

Thankfully, he spoke before any of those words came tumbling past my anxious tongue.

"Hi, Cam," he said calmly, walking past me to take a seat at my tiny table. "Smells good in here."

Okay, so that was how we were going to play it. Nothing happened. This was just a meal between friends.

No, neighbors.

Friends? I didn't know what to call it — what to call us.

"The food or the candle?"

"Both. The combo and this low light you've got going on makes it feel like a restaurant. Very chic."