Page 127 of Checking Out the Librarian

“You’re a bad liar.”

“Not gonna argue. Just gonna tell you what I see.” He contorted his arm so he could sift Jonathan’s hair. Even without watching the strands fall between his spread fingers, he was mesmerized by it. The way it felt to have Jonathan’s warm scalp under his palm, but then when he lifted his hand, he could feel only the cool strands pass slowly, so slowly, across his knuckles.

“Ribby is being perfectly still. Well, his tail is swishing on the floor, so he’s not totally immobile, but his body and head aren’t moving. And Pawsley is tottering around Ribby’s paw. Sniffing, I guess.”

He and Jonathan cuddled close enough that he might actually be able to hear the slightest swish of Jonathan’s hair falling, but that could be his imagination. No one could really hear the sound of their boyfriend’s hair, could they? “They’re fine and I’m watching them.”

“I’m fine too.”

“Of course. I know that, and I’m not even watching you.” He didn’t need to use his eyes to see Jonathan, he could use every other sense.

26

FANCY EQUIPMENT

The first time Connor woke up in Jonathan’s bed, he counted backward from the date—Thursday, July 10—and realized that it was less than a month since that night in Portland.

He felt free to round up, though, and also free to overlook that it had taken a month to find himself waking up here. Patience had paid off.

Or, the way of looking at the one-month situation that he preferred, was that after only one month, he was sleeping over at his boyfriend’s home, sharing pet duties, and making plans more than one plan in advance. Making later plans, not just next-date plans.

A bonus to this relationship happening in the first part of July, he wasn’t going to feel that emptiness that always tricked him into listening when Tony showed up during the All-Star Break. Maybe he wouldn’t sniff around this year, but Connor wasn’t marking time waiting to see.

He wasn’t a rain-delay date sitting in Eugene waiting for a call. He had Jonathan.

Tony could fuck off.

On the pillow next to his, Jonathan’s dark hair spread smoothly across the crisp white cotton. He wanted to nuzzle Jonathan’s bare shoulder, wrap fully around him and make promises to the back of his head that were far too soon to put into words.

He was prickly and argumentative, sometimes fussy, but Connor liked his comebacks way more than how Tony showed up with a mouth full of flattery and nothing else. And even though Jonathan was forty pounds lighter than Connor, somehow he created the perfect pressure when they hugged.

Also, Jonathan in eye makeup was smoking hot and he always smelled like yummy treats, even in the morning. That too.

Despite being all that he always was, he’d found someone who wanted him publicly and privately. Someone who wanted to tease him, but also rely upon him and claim him, as much as fuck him and eat his cooking. Someone who cooked for him.

He had it all.

But at this moment, he had to take a leak, walk Ribby in a new neighborhood, make coffee in a new machine, and also check on Pawsley. All of it new.

Time for another beautiful day.

The first time Jonathan woke up in his own bed with the scent of Connor on his pillow, he panicked.

Connor wasn’t beside him and he could hear clanking in the kitchen and feel doom in his bones. He bolted out of bed and grabbed the silky red kimono he kept on the clothes chair.

He stalked half-across the living room before his brain processed the image of Connor standing in front of his Italian espresso machine. He couldn’t afford to replace that. It had been the best thrift score ever, from a tiny shop in Atlantic City, and Connor was about to play with it.

“What’s going on in here?”

“Nothing.” Connor looked down at Ribby, who hid behind his legs, and then back at Jonathan.

“What are you messing with?” The liar had absolutely been playing with Jonathan’s machine, trying to build up a head of steam with absolutely no idea what to do except maybe burn himself or break things that were not his.

“Nothing?” This time he raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

That expression meant he knew he’d been caught out.

“Two things. Two rules. Don’t lie to me, Connor, and don’t touch my equipment.”