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“I’m sorry for not coming over,” I mumble against his temple.
“I get it. You don’t have to apologize.” He sounds tired, like he’s only a few minutes away from sleep. I should switch the lights off, but I hate the thought of him sleeping on the floor all night. “Promise you’ll just sleep at my place until you get on your feet, okay?”
“Okay,” I reply, kissing him again.
His fingers trace the shapes on my chest, and it feels nice. I couldn’t tell you the last time someone even touched my chest, so the fact that I can let him do it and actually enjoy it is pretty remarkable.
I start to drift off at some point but then I’m jolted awake by the sound of breaking glass. Thomas and I startle at the same time, first staring at each other and then looking around the room for the source of the sound. Something hits the garage door with a loud smack. In the distance, there is laughter and the rumble of a car engine.
“What the fuck,” I bark as I jump up, grabbing my sweat pants off the floor of the garage. I throw them on in a rush and bolt for the side door that leads to the street. I hear Thomas shouting, “Where is my shirt?” as I reach the door. I register that something is very off about the smell in the air and the hint of smoke, but I’m too distracted by the assholes standing in the middle of the dark street with large rocks in their hands.
Instantly, I recognize the guys from the game today, and rage boils to the surface so fast, I nearly black out. I hear Thomas running out behind me, and I turn to find him standing in nothing but his jeans.
“Oh, shit!” the guys yell. “He really is a fag.”
I take off in a sprint toward them, not even caring that I’m not wearing shoes and the asphalt is biting at my feet. They’re too far ahead of me to catch them as they dive into the back of their truck and it speeds away.
“Smoke, Pax!” Thomas yells from behind me. “Pax, something’s burning in the garage!”
At first I think he must be confused or mistaking the smell of a distant bonfire I noticed before, but as I turn around and see the smoke billowing out of the broken window, my heart plummets to the concrete.
“What the fuck!” I shout as I run back toward the building. I grab the bottom of the garage door and pull it up, and I’m hit with a blast of smoke and heat. All I see is Aphrodite being swallowed up in a gray cloud and the flicker of a flame along the back wall.
“Help me!” I scream as I run toward my car, but a hand hooks around my arm, stopping me.
“You can’t go in there!” he shouts.
“I have to get my car out!”
“No, Pax. We have to call 9-1-1. Forget the car.”
“You don’t understand!” I shout back, my body coursing with adrenaline and fear and so much anger. “That car is all I have.”
I yank my arm free of his grasp and run into the smoke-filled garage. I trip over our makeshift bed on the floor. How long would we have slept through this?
As I reach the door of the car, swinging it open, I spot the space heater in the corner of the garage. It’s my space heater. I’m the one who brought it, but it’s Thomas’s shirt draped over the top, almost all of it unrecognizable by the way it’s scorched. Something in me spoils at the sight.
Suddenly he’s there, on the other side of the car, opening the door and getting in position to push it out of the garage, but I can see the annoyed scowl on his face.
“Put it in neutral, and let’s push. Make it fast!”
Together, we roll Aphrodite out of the garage, and as soon as we get her a safe distance away, I throw it into park and run back toward the garage to grab the fire extinguisher near the door.
Thomas watches from behind me as I douse the flames. It goes out quickly, leaving the whole building a smokey mess. And as I stare at what’s left, I know I'm fucked. The mattress is still on the floor, Thomas and I are stuck out here half-naked, and I’m 100% sure that I’m most definitely going to lose my job.
“Fuck!” I yell, scraping my fingers through my hair. It all happened so fast, the guys throwing rocks through the window, the fire starting. And right now there is so much rage and frustration coursing through me that I know I’m about to blow.
“Relax. At least we got out safely.”
“Relax? Everything is ruined! I’m going to lose my job. I almost lost my car, and all because I had to be so stupid!”
He reaches for me, and all I see is his bare chest, evidence of what we’ve done. Evidence the cops and firefighters and my boss are going to see when they get here.
“Pax,” he says, but I quickly jolt away from him.
“No. A week ago, everything was fine. And then you got in my head and I had to let my guard down. Now everyone is about to know. And who knows how much trouble I’m going to get in for this.”
“So this is my fault?” he asks, looking shocked.
