Where Nerves End

sure doors were locked and cash was in the safe, and I was out of there.
As soon as I was outside, I stopped and took a deep breath. The air was vaguely musty from the nearby river, but clean and fresh. The sun had just sunk behind the mountains, staining the sky a deep red and purple behind the jagged silhouette. Beautiful night. Definitely not one that should be wasted on paperwork.
Better to waste it parked in front of the TV , I mused as I unlocked my car.
By the time I was halfway home, I was relaxed enough I probably could have gone back and taken care of all the shit still festering on my desk. Not tonight. None of it needed to be taken care of immediately, and I wasnt going to stress myself into knots over paperwork for once.
Just let me have this one night, I begged the universe, without being in pain .
About two blocks away from my cul de sac, it occurred to me that going home might not be much more relaxing than being at work. Less depressing, yes, but now there was stress on both ends of my commute. When I suggested that Michael move in with me to save us both money, I knew it would be torture to look but not touch. However, three things about this arrangement had failed to cross my mind.
One, the bizarre varieties of healthy food, most of which were some unidentifiable form of plant life, materializing in my refrigerator between my beer and cold cuts.
Two, how incredibly fucking difficult it was to curtail my swearing, especially while playing a video game, because there was a seven-year-old in the room.
And third, that while Michael dressed business casual outside of the house, he reverted back to more casual and less business at home. For Michael, that meant jeans. Nothing else. Just jeans.
Oh God.
We were only two weeks into this arrangement, and I was already losing my mind. Sooner or later, Id get used to him. Hopefully before he came to the conclusion that I was naturally clumsy. Prone to tripping over my own feet, dropping things, fucking up a video game that I was completely owning right up until the moment Michael waltzed in through the sliding glass door with his sunglasses in his mouth and a sheen of sweat from cutting the grass.
Hell, what did I care? I finally had some hope of getting my finances back in order. So what if that meant torturing myself with eye candy that left me biting my second knuckle every time he leaned down to get something out of a cabinet? I might end up with tennis elbow before all was said and done, but at least I might not go bankrupt.
When I got home, I found Michael in the living room, and he was the polar opposite of me today: shirt off as always, bare feet up on an ottoman, totally relaxed except for his thumbs on the video game controller.
He looked up. “Youre home early.”
“Decided to take it easy for an evening.”
Nodding, he turned his attention back to the screen. “You could probably use a night to relax. Good for the shoulder.”
“If my boss gets pissed, do I get a doctors note?”
Michael laughed. “Absolutely.”
“Awesome.” I dropped my keys on the counter and grabbed a beer from the fridge. After Id opened the bottle, I went into the living room.
I looked at the screen and did a double take. “You know, you are the last person in the world Id expect to see playing Grand Theft Auto.”
Michael laughed again, but didnt look up from the animated sports car eluding police through the streets of Los Angeles. “Just dont tell my kid, all right?”
“Secrets safe with me.” I eased myself on to the couch beside him. “Didnt think youd be into something so violent.”
“Well, I could do without the part about shooting cops and hookers,” he said with a shrug. “But there is something fun about driving around and stealing shit.” He glanced at me. “Therapeutic after a long week.”
“Its good for that, isnt it?”
“Yep. As long as Dylan doesnt play it, so I only get this or Assassins Creed out when hes at his moms.”
I nodded toward the screen. “You dont let him play this?”
“Fuck, no.” The stolen car on the screen crashed into the back of a police car, and then plowed over a pedestrian. “He can play games like this and watch violent movies when hes old enough to be horrified by them.”
“Says the man who just ran someone over with a stolen car.”
He steered the car around a tight corner as he eluded police, and then shrugged. “Hey, Ill have you know I am duly horrified.” Beat. “I should have gotten a fuckload more