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“Let’s not,” he says. “I don’t want to think about that right now, okay?”
I swallow down the plethora of arguments that gather on the tip of my tongue and nod.
“Well, we’ll find a weekend then. Take a shorter trip.”
He makes some sort of noise that isn’t exactly no, but is the same distance away from an enthusiastic yes.
Yeah, well. Too bad for him, because I’m stubborn.
“I’ll have to be in New York sometime in August. I figured you could come and help me find an apartment,” I say. “We can give the Museum of Natural History another shot. Maybe we should make a list of all the tourist traps we’re going to visit, so we can tick them off over the course of the next year.”
“My apartment hunts usually only have one criterion: cheap. So I don’t think I’ll be of much use to you.” His voice is level, but his shoulders are tense as hell.
“It’s called teamwork. We’ll combine our individual expertise and find something decent.”
He studiously avoids looking at me when he says, “I’m sure you’ll manage just fine.”
Now the air around us is tense, too. So, so tense.
There are walls everywhere, no matter which direction I look. The moment I get past one, another pops up.
I stop walking.
It takes him a moment to realize that before he turns around with a quizzical expression on his face.
I guess we could go on like this. Walls and casual fun. Easy. No promises given, no promises kept.
With anybody else I would be fine with it.
With Lake… it’s not enough.
It’s a full-scale invasion of a realization.
Everything is actually very simple.
Easy with Lake is not enough.
I want more.
I deserve more.
I fucking deserve complicated.
“My mom’s coming to town,” I say. “She wants to have lunch.”
He licks his lips and glances away for a moment before he looks at me again. He knows where it’s going, and his initial reaction makes me feel hollow already.
“Okay? Then have lunch with her,” he says.
“Come with me.”
He looks down at his feet before he meets my gaze again.
“Why?”
“Why do you think?” I ask. I stroll closer until I’m right in front of him. “Because you’re important to me.”
“Do you really think it’s a good idea?” he asks, and it’s pretty fucking clear from the way he says it and the way he holds himself what his own answer to that is.
