Page 45 of Catching Flynn

“Something like that.” After giving Flynn a look that said he was thinking this morning, Zavier headed for the door.

Perv.

And you love it. Every single second.

Immensely.

Adele watched Zavier walk out with lifted brows. Once the door closed, she swung back around with a smile filled with sighs. “So. So. Dreamy.”

Flynn nearly dropped the wine bottle. “Focus those eyes right back over here.”

Jealousy struck his veins so fast and hot, the words shot out of him before a coherent thought had formed.

Jesus. He’d never been possessive over a guy, yet he wanted to poke out Adele’s eye for appreciating male beauty.

She smiled evilly at him, a twinkle of mischief glinting in her eyes. “Never play poker, Flynn. I can read every emotion on your face right now. You, my friend, are in love. Despite your outburst, you’re practically glowing.”

“Men don’t glow, we sweat.”

“You’re glowing,” she stated like her mind was made up.

“Am I really glowing?”

“Like a full moon.” She grinned. “Is he seriously you boyfriend?”

Flynn wanted to run to the bathroom to see if she was messing with him, but he believed her. The way Zavier made Flynn feel, not just intimately, but emotionally.

He’d never dismissed Flynn and thought his quirkiness was endearing instead of too much. Flynn just felt safe and happy and never wanted those feelings to do away.

“Yeah. Zaveri is my boyfriend.” He’d told Flynn their existence was kept a secret, which Flynn understood why.

“You two look good together,” she said. And if I remember correctly, you said something about single guys. Know any?” She arched an expecting brow.

“No,” Flynn admitted. “Hard to make friends when you live a predictable life. Work and home.” Why was he talking? Why couldn’t he shut up? Flynn didn’t share. He kept things bottled up so they could fester inside. Healthiest way to not deal with trauma.

“Same,” Adele murmured. “Small towns aren’t like they’re depicted on television, where everyone knows everyone, and your neighbor brings you pie.”

“I don’t think that’s been a thing since the hippie days. My nana used to tell me lots of stories about when she was growing up. Even when she embellished, you did it so flawlessly you thought she really had done all the things she claimed.”

“She sounded wonderful.”

Flynn glanced toward the front window, where Zavier’s broad shape was visible through the glare. Lucky barely covered it. Lucky suggested a raffle prize. This felt more like the universe had blacked out drunk and handed him a miracle by mistake.

Adele’s smile eased. “And the stalker thing? Is that still going on?”

The question dragged a cooler thread through him. He shifted on the stool, then wished he hadn’t moved.

“Still technically an issue, which is deeply frustrating.”

Terrifying, but less so with Zavier guarding his body. Flynn could finally sleep at night without worrying about another break-in.

Concern touched her face. “I’m sorry you’re going through that.”

Flynn shrugged one shoulder. “Same. I keep hoping they’ll get distracted by a hobby. Birdwatching. Knitting. Competitive sudoku.”

Adele leaned one hip against the counter. “I actually came in for two reasons. The wine was one.” She paused, looking almost shy. “I started a pottery class a few weeks ago, but attendance is sort of... tragic. It’s me and one retired guy who mostly wants to talk about chili recipes. I thought maybe you’d want to join?”

“Pottery?” Flynn repeated.