Enemies with Benefits 2

Chapter 2: Dinner with Dad

"You'll be fine." Colby patted down Ezra's t-shirt, gently pushing out any unseemly crinkles. "Just remember, he's still a dick and I hate him and I'll kill him if he says anything bad to you." He smiled at Ezra. "But, you'll be fine."

Ezra took a shaky breath. He'd dressed in his best shirt and best trousers, the ones he wore to formal occasions at work. He'd showered twice this morning, not because he needed to, but because he wasn't sure he'd done it right the first time. He'd styled and restyled his hair. Eventually, just asking Colby to do it for him and make the final decision. He'd shaved his face letting not a single hair escape his blade.

"Are you nervous?" Asked Colby.

"Not really."

"You're a terrible liar." His hands went to Ezra's shoulders and he began to massage them. "It's fine. You'll be fine. I can still come if you want?"

Ezra shook his head, trying his hardest to relax into Colby's touch. "No, I want to see him myself first and then depending on how he acts, I'll let him see you."

"Well," Colby ran his hands down Ezra's chest, "when you come back. Maybe we could enjoy our honeymoon."

"We haven't had our honeymoon yet."

"What do you mean? This is our honeymoon, isn't it. Because we're married."

"We're not married yet. Only engaged. Then we get married, then we have our honeymoon."

"Fucking hell that's a lot. Can we just do the honeymoon now? I want to go to France. Bonjour... je suis... merde... what else can I say?"

Ezra laughed. Should he bring Colby with him. He was always relaxed when Colby was with him. Although, he was sure that Colby and his dad in the same room would only stress him out more. Even now, he thought of the surprise visit of Colby one night in high school. The way his dad had tried to interrogate Colby and the way Colby — well, Colby just came for the food. Funny in hindsight, stressful in the moment. A stress he did not wish to recreate. Not just yet anyway.

"I'll see you later."

Ezra left his apartment that he shared with Colby. The restaurant he was meeting his dad in was within walking distance of the apartment. He walked down the street with a faux confidence in his best shoes. Polished so much it was blinding. Ezra had polished them over and over again until Colby had to ask him to stop.

He wasn't nervous. No, of course not. Why would he be nervous? It was only his dad. What possible reason would he have to be afraid of his dad? It's not like he could kick Ezra out of his house anymore, Ezra had his own house now. Ezra had his own job now, his own apartment, his own fiancé, his own everything. No one could take that away, and even if his dad ridiculed him or used this opportunity to express his disapproval of Ezra's lifestyle then Ezra would be fine.

He'd be fine. He'd be fine. He'd be fine. He'd be fine. He'd be fine. He'd be fine. He'd be fine. He'd be fine. He'd be fine. He'd be fine. He'd be fine. He'd be fine. He'd be fine. He'd be fine. He'd be fine. He'd be fine. He'd be fine. He'd be fine. He'd be fine. He'd be fin-

"Do you have a reservation today, sir?"

"Huh?"

The young waitress was very patient with him as he took a moment to get his brain to start running again. She smiled and waited, laminated menus stacked in her hands.

"Yes- Um, I have a reservation. It's under Dickinson. I have a guest coming."

She nodded. Briefly, she glanced at a list on top of a small podium. The restaurant was cute. It's fairly large size was the only thing keeping it from being called a cafe. It was a large building in front with wooden interior, grand chairs and tables inside. Then following out the back was a small garden with chairs and tables outside under large umbrellas. It was a nice spot Colby had found they first moved into the area. It was the same spot he had told Colby about his desire to see his dad again. Hopefully the good memories would outweigh any bad ones forged today tenfold. Call him a pessimist, but he wasn't sure how well today would go. His fault really if it didn't work out, they had been working fine with a relationship comprised of an actual phone call about superficial things, specifically avoiding topics that might bring up emotions. They'd had nothing but phone calls since his dad kicked him out at seventeen and now that he was twenty three, they'd still never talked about what happened between them since. Every once in a while his dad would always say something like: 'We'll have to talk about this in person at some point.'