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A new purchase for me. I got my first payment from Patronize and decided to use a small bit of it to look halfway decent for this date.
Summer was right. I have fans. So many that I’m on track to make more than I do working at the shelter, which is wild to me. So much so that I’m not sure I can trust it. I’ll have to get more than one paycheck before I start making any major life changes based on it, but this could solve enough problems to relieve a portion of the crushing stress always bearing down on my shoulders.
Hopefully my meetup with Jasmine next week to work on grant proposals for the rescue will be just as successful.
Still, my mind can’t focus on anything that far ahead.
Not with date-night happening.
This is a huge step. Summer invited me to her apartment.
I’ve picked Summer up plenty of times, and I’ve helped her carry in shopping bags from our Saturday morning grocery outings. But we’ve never spent more than five minutes together in her place.
“It’s small,” she’d said to me with a grimace the first time I walked her to her door.
As if I would care.
Still, she wasn’t exaggerating. Summer lives in a studio apartment, big enough for a bed and a loveseat and a tiny TV. A small wooden table pushed in the back corner holds her sewing machine along with piles of fabric. Throw pillow material.
Just existing means I take up a lot of space here, and maybe that’s why we spend more time at my rental. The shotgun house isn’t five-star quality, but we don’t have to worry about knocking things over every time we turn around.
Despite the destruction risk I pose, I’m still over the fucking moon to finally get invited here.
“Did Mama Al buy you this?” Summer asks, smoothing her hand over my shirt.
“No. I bought it.”
“But there are flowers on it.”
She’s not wrong. I was going to go straight black, but then I saw this in the department store. Still black, but with little roses all over it. One thought popped into my head.
Summer would like that shirt.
“Yes.” I watch her face, now that I know her reaction to the word.
Her lids flutter, and she traces her fingers over my already-straight collar.
“I’m going to have a fun time unbuttoning this later,” she murmurs.
And the win goes to her. And me. Can’t seem to stop winning when I’m around her.
“Got you this.” I offer my gift, and Summer’s grin softens into a happy smile.
“A succulent?”
I shrug. “Sure.” All I know is the plant is tiny and cute and reminds me of her.
“I love it.” Summer carefully takes the pot in both her hands and walks to her window sill, where she arranges it in a happy beam of sunlight.
Do you love me?I want to ask.
But I won’t. Not until I know the answer is yes.
She’s not the only one who wants to hear that word.
“Hope you’re hungry!” My librarian turns back to me with an almost nervous smile. “I’m not the best cook, but I think my shrimp scampi is halfway decent. Hasn’t given anyone food poisoning as far as I know.”
“Can’t wait.” I’ll eat whatever she puts in front of me.
