Ethan sat alone in his tiny apartment, the silence pressing down on him like a weight. It was his day off from the chicken place, but the emptiness felt worse than any shift. The couch still carried the faint scent of James from the night before — that mix of rain, sweat, and something distinctly him. Ethan stared at the spot where they had been tangled together, the memory of James’s hands, his mouth, his voice whispering rough words against his skin making his chest tighten.
He felt lonely.
Really lonely.
He stood up, grabbed his jacket, and decided he needed to get out. “I’ll just grab something to eat,” he muttered to himself. “Maybe that’ll help.”
He walked to the Sweet Chicken Place. Even though he wasn’t working today, the familiar smell of frying oil and spices welcomed him the
