Young Oz was truly an enigma. He was just about every gay guy’s wet dream when it came to sex because he was absolutely beautiful. And while he was confident and stubborn in some ways, he was painfully naïve and innocent in others. He had expensive things, but from what I could tell, it wasn’t necessarily the price tag that appealed to him. His love for his dog, even if some of what he said to her was over the top, proved what a good heart he had. And he found joy in something as simple as bringing a little bit of color into my world.
For what?
To figure out the answer to that, I’d have to try and figure him out.
But that most definitely wasn’t an option.
I shook my head, but left the pillow and the blanket alone. I’d put everything back the way it was later. As for Oz, I resolved to avoid my new neighbor until he figured out that, just like the color he’d brought to my cabin, he and I didn’t fit. Eventually he’d get the message, and things would settle down again. When the cute little clothing designer returned to New York where he belonged, life would go back to the way it should be.
Colorless.
Quiet.
Safe.
In the three days since my vow to avoid Oz, I actually hadn’t had to make any effort to do so. I hadn’t needed to, because he’d avoided me.
Not that I could blame him, considering the way I’d blown him off.
I’d expected him to try and make some contact with me again, but even on the few occasions I’d actually seen him, he’d been the one to ignore me. His little dog had tried to approach me one morning when I’d gone out to turn my car on, but Oz had gotten uncharacteristically angry with her from his spot on the porch when she hadn’t responded to his initial command to return to the cabin. Princess Cujo had run back to him, and not surprisingly, his anger hadn’t lasted because when he’d scooped her up, he’d lavished her with kisses and what I could only assume had been apologies before he’d taken her back into the house, her tail wagging happily.
My instincts had been screaming at me to go check on him a few times, but I’d managed to refrain. The medical professional in me wanted to make sure his burn was healing properly while the man in me wanted to reassure myself that he was staying warm enough and that he had what he needed to get through the cold snap we were about to experience.
But gorgeous little Oz wasn’t my problem.
Well, he was, just not in a good way. Yeah, he was most definitely a problem for me, if the dreams I was having about him every night were anything to go by. Not to mention the obligatory masturbatory sessions in the shower each morning where I usually ended up calling his name as I came in my own hand.
The fact that his car was gone made it easier to ignore the need to check on him. My cell phone rang just as I was getting into my truck, so I got it started before answering the call. The caller ID showed who it was. As much as I wanted to ignore Xander’s call for the third straight day in a row, I knew if I kept it up, he’d just make his way up the mountain to check on me–unannounced, of course.
“Hey,” I answered.
“Hey yourself,” Xander said. “You have plans for dinner tonight?”
I closed my eyes because I’d been expecting the question.
“Um, sorry… I’ve got something I need to do.”
“Oh yeah, what?”
The question caught me off guard. Xander wasn’t normally the type to pry.
“Just stuff,” I said lamely.
“Uh-huh,” Xander said, clearly not convinced that I was telling the truth. Luckily, he didn’t call me on it. “So how are things going with your cute neighbor?”
Jesus, was he really going to try and play matchmaker?
“Fine. He’s staying out of my way, I’m staying out of his.”
I could practically see Xander frowning through the phone. “So you haven’t even talked to him?”
“No,” I lied, because I wasn’t about to admit I’d done more than talk.
“Well, you should. He’s a great guy. Sweet. Funny too.”
I hated the jealousy that curled through me at the thought of someone else liking Oz, even though it was completely unfounded, since I knew Xander wouldn’t so much as look at another man, not with Bennett in the picture.
“You’ve talked to him?” I asked.
“Yeah, I met him briefly in New York at this benefit concert Ash put together and then again when he stopped by the lodge a couple days ago to pay his rent for the winter.”
“The winter? The whole winter?”
“Yeah, through February, even though he won’t actually be here that whole month–something about Fashion Week. I overheard him talking to Lucky about it. Guess he’s a designer or something.”