"I know." I sat on the edge of the bed, brushed his bangs back. "But I need to try something new. Just once. Okay?"
He didn't answer right away. Just watched the stars turn.
"Okay," he said finally. Quiet. "But come back fast."
"I will."
I leaned down, kissed his forehead. "Love you, Eli."
"Love you more."
I stayed until his breathing evened out. Until the projector clicked off on its timer. Until the room was dark except for the streetlight sneaking through the blinds.
I slipped into the living room, sat on the couch still warm from him. Pulled my knees up. Stared at the wall.
One night.
Just one.
I told myself it wouldn't change anything.
But deep down, way deep, where I didn't like to look, I already knew I was lying.
Chapter 2
Hadley
Saturday mornings always felt like borrowed time. No club tonight, no glitter, no hands reaching for what wasn't theirs. Just me and Eli, and the kind of quiet that didn't feel like it was waiting to explode. I woke up to sunlight slicing through the blinds in thin, dusty lines, hitting the wall where his train posters were taped crooked. My back ached from the mattress on the floor, but I didn't mind. It meant I'd slept next to him all night, close enough to hear if he needed me.
Eli was already awake, sitting cross-legged on the bed, staring at the star projector even though it was off. His glasses were smudged. Hair sticking up in the back like always.
"Morning, bud," I said, voice still thick with sleep.
He didn't look at me right away. "It's Saturday."
"Yeah. No club. Just us and the rich people's grass."
He nodded once. Serious. "I mow straight lines. No overlaps."
"I know you do. You're the best lawn guy in Vegas."
He finally turned, small smile tugging one corner of his mouth. "You're the best cleaner."
We had this little game. Compliments like facts. It made him feel safe.
I pushed myself up. "Bath first?"
He hesitated. "I can start the water."
That was new. Last month he'd only let me turn the knob. Progress.
"Okay. Show me."
He slid off the bed, padded to the tiny bathroom. I followed, leaning in the doorway while he twisted the faucet- hot first, then cold, testing with his wrist the way I'd taught him. Steam rose slow. He added the blue bubble bath he liked because it smelled like "ocean rain." His words, not mine.
"You good?" I asked.
He looked over his shoulder. "I can wash myself today."
