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“You gave me too much,” I protest.
He crooks a thick eyebrow at me. “Two scoops is too much?”
“I’m trying to cut back.” The back of my neck heats with embarrassment. “I need to lose some weight.”
“You don’t need to lose anything.”
He says it so firmly that it temporarily knocks me off kilter.
“You’re just being nice,” I say.
Alden laughs, deep and reverberating. “Yeah. That’s me. Mister Nice.” Then he leans over and kisses the side of my neck, the heat of his mouth radiating across my skin. His lips are hovering just above my skin when he speaks again. “It’s true, though, angel. You’re perfect as you are.”
I close my eyes for a second, relishing the closeness of him, the protective warmth of him, the way he makes me feel. No matter what happens in the future, his words will always stay with me. I’m certain of that. Even long after he’s gone, a part of him will remain with me forever.
When I blink open my eyes, the cramped interior of my apartment fills my vision.
“Aren’t you going out of your mind, being cooped up here all day?” I ask.
Alden leans against the back of my couch and shrugs. Idly, he scratches his arm, his trimmed nails running over the inked surface of his skin. “It’s been fine.”
“You’re seriously not going to get out and see the city at all?”
“Nope.”
I shake my head and indulge in a generous bite of ice cream. “What about your show at the gallery this weekend? Don’t tell me you’re going to sit that out, too.”
“I’ve never made an appearance before. Don’t see any reason to do things differently now.”
I give him a look. “But you’re already here, Alden. All you’d have to do is show up.”
“No. I’d have to fuckin’minglewith people. I’d have to talk about my work.”
“What’s so horrible about that? People want to hear what you have to say. Everyone loves your work.”
“Then they can admire the work.”
Frustrated, I dig my spoon into my ice cream again. “Why do you hate everything so much?”
“I don’t hate everything.”
“You sure seem to hate everything about the city.”
“Not true. There’s you.”
“Alden.” I give him an imploring look. “I’m being serious. Look, I get that you like your privacy. I get that you prefer to live in a place surrounded by nature. But is it really so terrible here? Can’t you just give it a chance?”
Alden breathes out an unamused laugh. “I did give it a chance. I lived here for years.”
I wait for him to go on. He doesn’t.
“You got your art degree here, right?” I press.
Alden nods.
I try to imagine him as a young art student, but it’s too difficult. “What were you like back then?”
“Young and full of myself.” Alden slowly drags a palm across the stubble on his chin. I think that’s all he’s going to give me, but after a few seconds of silence, he goes on. “After all the praise I got from my art instructors, my ego was inflated, and I thought I’d get representation right away when I finished school. But in the real world, nobody cared about my paintings. The gallery owners turned me away. One even had the gall to laugh in my face.”
