Married for a Month

by Cate Ashwood

  Chase shrugged. “You don’t have the calves to pull off stilettos anyway.”

  Chapter Three

  Chase

  “More fucking bananas.” I held down the trigger to keep the single peel trailing behind Yoshi’s car.

  “Quit your whining,” Alec grumbled. “You get the shit goodies when you’re in first and don’t need the good stuff.”

  I laughed at him. “Yep. I told you beating me at Mario Kart would be impossible.”

  We’d stopped by my place after breakfast the day before to pick up my clothes and other shit I’d need for the month. While I’d been digging through my closet for my good jeans, he’d spotted the Nintendo 64 that had been lost in my closet since sometime around 2008. It was a vortex from which almost nothing escaped, but he managed to wrangle it away from the hoodie I’d coveted during the Abercrombie & Fitch phase of ’04.

  Alec had insisted on bringing the console back with us, and we’d spent most of Sunday morning playing already. I was well aware of Alec’s competitive streak before we’d even plugged the thing in, but was quickly reminded of how serious he took things when I beat him in the first round of the grand prix.

  I let him win the second and third rounds before I annihilated him in the fourth.

  “Why the fuck are you still so good at this game?” he asked, tossing his controller on the couch as he got up and stalked to the kitchen.

  “I spent a lot more time playing than you did. Before you moved here, I had significantly fewer friends, remember?” I called after him. I could hear him rifling around in the fridge.

  Alec had transferred into Lincoln High in the tenth grade. The minute he walked into my homeroom class, I’d fallen halfway in love with him. He was tall and broad and dark and gorgeous, and I wanted him instantly. Unfortunately, he’d wanted Brynn instead, and he’d broken my little fifteen-year-old heart.

  They’d dated for about five minutes in the way most fifteen-year-olds date—mostly talking on the phone and making out wherever they could—but in the end decided they’d be better off friends. Brynn had decided they’d be better off friends because she didn’t actually like guys. I teased them both that the first few years of high school had been their hetero phase. It wasn’t until a couple of years later that Alec came out as bi.

  I’d gotten over Alec before he got over Brynn, and we’d all been friends ever since. We were a motley crew of misfits, mostly, with Alec bringing us as close to the popular-kid group as we were going to get. I’m still not sure how Brynn, Reid, and I survived without wedgies and having our heads shoved in the toilets before he’d arrived on the scene.

  “You want something to drink?” he called.

  My phone rang before I could answer him.

  “Hello?”

  “How’s married life treating you?” From the distance in Reid’s voice, I assumed he had his phone on speaker.

  “Absolute bliss. And I’m thinking a purple sequin mankini would totally bring out your eyes. Hi, Jo,” I added when I heard her cackling in the background.

  “Is that Reid?” Alec crossed the living room and handed me the beer I hadn’t asked for.

  “Yeah. He wants to know how we’re enjoying married life so far.” I held the phone out and clicked the button so Alec could hear as well.

  “Chase hasn’t driven you nuts yet?” Reid asked.

  “Not yet,” Alec replied, grinning at me.

  “You know. I think this is going to be effortless. You guys are all a bunch of losers. Marriage is great. Alec and I went to Shorty’s yesterday for breakfast, and now we’re in sweatpants playing video games. Marriage is the best.”

  I could hear Jo laughing again.

  “You’re pretty smart, Chase. That’s all Jo and I do. It’s just sweatpants and video games, twenty-four seven around here.”

  “Pretty fucking pleasant, that’s all I gotta say about that.”

  “Have you figured out your first date yet?” Jo asked.

  I looked at Alec, and he shrugged. “Not yet. I’m sure we’ll think of something awesome, though.”

  When Reid replied, he sounded wholly disbelieving. “I’m sure you will.”

  We said good-bye and hung up.

  Their lack of faith in me was beginning to grate. Yes, my dating life was… variable. I liked the thrill of the chase and the excitement of something new. Despite their ribbing, I still failed to see anything wrong with it, and so what if one area of my life was lacking in their eyes? For the most part, professionally, I had my shit together. I worked for the city, leading my own team in urban planning and development.

  I worked hard during the week, and on the weekends I deserved to let loose a little.

  Alec looked at me. “Any ideas?”

  I looked back at him. “Huh?”

  “Our first date as a married couple,” he reminded me.

  “Uh… not really. We gotta come up with something good, though. We can’t let those losers think we’re shitty at this less than a week in.”

  “Movies?” Alec suggested.

  “Nah, too cliché. A musical?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Too gay.”

  I punched him.

  “Bowling?” Even he sounded skeptical.

  “We suck at this.”

  “Hey, you’re the planner, not me,” he pointed out.

  “You make it sound like I’m a professional matchmaker. I’m an urban planner, not a date planner.”

  We stared at each other, minds churning, trying to come up with something better. Nothing came to mind.

  “No wonder we’re still single.” It was kind of pathetic that neither of us could come up with a single good idea for a date. Everything I thought of felt off, and the tried-and-true Chase dates wouldn’t work with Alec. They were too… intimate. It would feel weird to be out with him like that. There were some lines even married couples don’t cross, and for me, suggesting something saturated with romance was off the list.

  “Bowling it is.” I picked up my controller and exited to the menu to fire up a new round.

  Three hours of Mario Kart later, my stomach was grumbling loud enough to be heard across the room.

  “What do you want to do for dinner?” I asked.

  “Pizza?”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  I gave myself a mental pat on the back. The one thing I heard married couples arguing about all the time was dinner. My coworker Joy spent more time on the phone with her husband trying to figure out how they were going to feed themselves than she did actually working. Not that Joy was a great worker to begin with.

  “Look at us being all domestic and decisive,” I said.

  Alec shrugged. “We have beer. Pizza goes with beer.”

  “I love how logical you are.” I dipped my head and rested it on his shoulder, looking up at him and batting my eyelashes.

  We both agreed to order from Firewood Pizza, who undoubtedly makes the best pizza in town, but that’s where the agreement ended. We argued for fifteen minutes over which flavor combinations were the best. Alec wanted some sort of sundried-tomato, feta, and spinach pizza with chicken.

  “Uh, no. Vegetables have no business being anywhere near my pizza,” I protested. “Pizza crusts are just the vehicles to hold copious amounts of meat and cheese. The sauce barely makes a pass, since it’s made from tomatoes, but gets to stay because it adds extra lubricant to help the wad of meat slide into my belly.”

  “You’re disgusting. I have no idea how you don’t look like Jabba the Hutt.”

  “The meat sweats that come later help drop the water weight.”

  “Have I mentioned you’re disgusting?” Alec asked. “Meat sweats. I can’t wait to crawl into bed with you.”

  “Can I be the little spoon?”

  He shook his head at me.

  “Fine, you can be little spoon, but if your back is hairy, I’m calling the whole thing off.”

  “My back is not hairy,” he protested, his tone a little exasperat
ed. “You know that.”

  “I do. You have a very nice back.”

  We ended up ordering both types of pizza, and when they arrived, I could see him eyeing mine like he wanted a piece. I slid the box over to him so he could grab a slice.

  I’m such a good husband.

  Chapter Four

  Alec

  I woke up before my alarm on Monday morning.

  Maybe woke up is not the right phrase. I don’t know if I slept at all. It didn’t feel like I had. My eyes were gritty, and I was dizzy with exhaustion before I’d even opened them.

  Falling into bed drunk and passing out next to my best friend was one thing, but willingly climbing in next to him, sober and completely aware, was something different. In all the years we’d been friends, sleepovers were never quite like this. In high school, it’d mostly been all-night video gamefests and bingeing on junk food. Even when Chase had stayed with me, he’d slept on the couch. I had no idea if there was bed-sharing etiquette that needed to be followed.

  The only people who had been in my bed had been the one-night stands and short-term boyfriends who had fallen asleep next to me after sex, and at that point, tangled limbs and nonexistent personal space were to be expected. With Chase, though, it was different. For the first time in years, I felt awkward with him.

  I hovered on the verge of sleep, afraid my body would somehow end up wrapped around his once I slipped into unconsciousness. Not wanting to impinge on his side of the bed, I kept my distance, my body confined to the edge of the mattress. Chase was not the easiest person to share with, either. It was as if the moment the lights went out, he sprouted fifteen extra limbs and every one of them ended up on me.

  When it was finally time to get up, I was exhausted but somehow relieved. I was used to getting up early, and nights when I’d gotten a full eight hours of sleep, I enjoyed being up before everyone else. At least three days a week, I packed in a full workout before most people were even out of bed.

  The morning light sliced across the duvet, striping it in gold. I turned to look at Chase, still dead to the world, inky lashes fanned across his cheeks and his hair messy and tousled from moving around so much while he slept. If I let myself forget about him spending half the night sleeping with his head on my pillow, he almost looked sweet and innocent lying there wrapped up in my blankets.

  Good thing I knew better.

  I slipped from beneath the covers and tiptoed to the bathroom, trying not to wake him. I felt more energized after I stepped out of the shower, the climate-controlled air a few degrees too cold.

  The week before, my company had been awarded our first government contract—structural panel fabrication for the Air Force. Besides the money, which was substantial, being awarded a government contract of this size was no small feat. It made our year at the shop and at the same time added an immense amount of pressure. I wanted to be there early to double-check everything was right. I needed to be sure our suppliers had come through, our equipment was functioning the way it should, and the materials we were going to use were of the proper quality.

  It meant I had to be there hours before the other guys would show up, but when I’d opened up my shop, I knew there would be days when my work hours wouldn’t fall into the regular nine-to-five thing.

  I didn’t mind. If there was one thing I was proud of, it was my shop. I was never one of those kids who grew up knowing they wanted to be a teacher or a lawyer. I enjoyed math, but never enough to become an accountant or an engineer, and school never suited me much. When I discovered metal fabrication, everything clicked into place for me, and now I enjoyed going to work most days.

  I pulled on my clothes, not used to having to stay in the bathroom to do so. Walking naked around my apartment was a freedom I had taken for granted. Somehow I didn’t think Chase would appreciate an eyeful of my dick if he happened to wake up while I was pulling on my underwear.

  Once my face was shaven, my teeth brushed, and my junk covered, I ventured out of the washroom to find my bed empty, the sheets rumpled.

  “Morning?” I called as I walked into the kitchen to find Chase standing on one foot like a flamingo, leaning against the counter in front of the sink.

  “Morning,” he replied around a mouthful of cereal. He swallowed. “I made coffee.”

  “You’re up earlier than I thought you’d be.” I crossed the kitchen and took my favorite mug down from the cupboard. My boss had given it to me when I’d gotten my first job. It didn’t matter that the handle was chipped, since it held almost two full cups and it kept the coffee warmer than the rest of my collection.

  The weight felt right in my hand as I held it out for Chase to fill after he’d poured his own.

  “I heard you in the shower. Thought I’d get up and start the coffee. I wouldn’t be a very good husband if I didn’t see you off to work.”

  I could hear the teasing in his voice.

  “Well, thanks. I appreciate the coffee. God knows I’m going to need it today.”

  “Oh yeah, your new contract, right?”

  I nodded. “Yep. The guys are going to be so sick of seeing my face by the end of this. Everything needs to be perfect, so I’m going to be so far up their asses they’ll be walking funny for a year.”

  Chase shot me a lopsided grin. “I’m sure it’ll all be smooth sailing.”

  I took a sip of my coffee, sucking air into my mouth when it scalded my tongue. “Probably. I can’t complain about my crew at the shop. I got lucky they all chose to work with me. I couldn’t ask for a better team.”

  “Must be nice,” Chase said, rinsing his bowl and then adding it to the dishwasher.

  “You’ll be here after work?” I asked, thinking it might be nice to come home to a place that wasn’t quiet and empty. Mostly, I enjoyed living alone. I liked the freedom to do what I want when I wanted. I’d had a roommate in college, and it hadn’t lasted long. The guy was a slob, leaving his shit everywhere.

  I drained my cup and grabbed a couple of slices of pizza from the fridge, tossing them into a Ziploc for lunch before I stepped into my work boots and poured one last cup of coffee into my travel mug.

  “I’ll be here. Have a good day, and good luck,” Chase said. I tossed a wave in his direction and slipped out.

  I parked in my normal spot, closest to the door, and crossed the gravel path to the side entrance. I unlocked it and pushed it open before stepping inside and grappling at the wall for the light switch.

  The sunlight coming over the hills wasn’t strong enough to brighten the interior of the shop through the windows that perforated the walls, and I squinted against the brightness of the halogen bulbs as they blinked to life. Excitement lit in my chest. Having my own place had been my goal since my first day on the job. Back then, I was eighteen and I knew jack shit about anything, but I knew I wanted what my boss had.

  He was a nice guy and he treated his employees well, but being only a few years from retirement meant I was bound to be working under someone else not long after. He sold the company a few years later, and I chose to find employment with another company in town. I’d enjoyed sheet metal work, but heavy metal fabrication held my interest even more.

  It had taken almost fifteen years of working my ass off, squirreling away money, and learning everything I could before I was able to buy a rundown factory in the industrial area of town. At one time it had thrived pushing out paper, but when they went under, the building sat vacant for years. A little elbow grease and a substantial small-business loan later, I’d opened Liberty Welding and Fabricating.

  Then, it had been mostly empty. I’d only been able to afford a couple of the smaller machines, but as the business grew I was able to reinvest, and now the space was filled with equipment and hulking metal structures, half-assembled and waiting to be completed for our customers. Pride radiated through me.

  I walked through the shop, inhaling the scent of metal and oil as I approached the stairs near the back that would take me up to the mezzanin
e and my office, which overlooked the workshop.

  When I stepped inside, it was just as I’d left it. The papers on my desk were stacked neatly, and right on top was the signed contract with specs for the project. It looked like any other contract, but this one felt like my white whale. It was important and it meant something to me.

  I sat at my desk and leaned back in the chair, inhaling deeply. It was the calm before the storm, and in a few hours, the workshop below would be a buzz of activity—sparks flying and machines running, ensuring every piece came out perfectly.

  The light on the phone on my desk flashed, indicating I had voice mail. I picked up the receiver and pushed the button to retrieve the message.

  Collin’s voice came through the line. Collin was one of my newest hires. He’d been with me less than a year, but he showed promise, despite being a bit flaky. I listened to him pause and waited for the recorded voice to tell me he was calling in sick. He was young, and although he worked hard during the week, he partied harder on the weekends. This wouldn’t be the first time he’d called in for a Monday morning. We’d need to have a chat about it, but I couldn’t stand to lose a set of hands, this week of all weeks.

  What I didn’t expect was to hear Collin quit. T&J Metals had opened up six months ago. I’d suspected a lot of the young guys in town would be clamoring to get hired on there, especially considering the huge signing bonus there’d been rumors of. The owner was a dick, but he stocked the break room with junk food and video games. I’d heard there was a foosball table set up too, and on Friday afternoons, they shut down early to drink beer. It was a guy’s wet dream of a job, but I was betting T&J Metals would be bankrupt in less than a year.

  The owner knew how to entice people to work for him, but he didn’t know shit about metal fabrication, and in the six months he’d been in operation, he’d managed to gain a reputation for cutting corners. Sure, a lot of clients automatically went with the cheapest bid but quickly learned there were all sorts of hidden costs that would be incurred later. Shutdowns and delays cost money, and so did shoddy workmanship.