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“You’re thinking rather loud, Xan.”
He’s quiet for a beat, and I wonder if he’s asleep, though his fingers are still wrapped in my hair. “Are you serious? Living together, Clark?”
I guess the subject isn’t settled. “Yes, Xan. I was serious. I want you here with me.”
“But if we do this, I want to do it right. I don’t want to set us up for failure.”
“I’ll allow paper towels in the bathroom, just for you.”
“Thanks, and I’ll take it, baby. So, when do you want to start looking for something?”
Oh, this isn’t what I was thinking. “Uh, well…”
“Yeah?” he asks.
“I meant here, you could stay here with me. I’m only on the second month of the lease, and my budget is stretched as it is with this rent and my student loans. I can’t afford anything more, and they gave me a discount because they didn’t need a renter.”
“Baby,” he begins, and I know this is a conversation I’d rather not continue, not this late at night.
“Xan, I’m not taking your money. And even if we found a place double my rent it wouldn’t be much bigger than this. This apartment would go for fifty-five hundred dollars easily, and my rent is thirty-five hundred, which is unheard of.”
“Let’s just say, I could buy an apartment and you could put your part toward the mortgage. What about that?”
“My measly amount wouldn’t fully cover half of the mortgage, if you had one. And…”
“Clark, I want to be with you, and if it means we stay here, we stay here. I don’t need a fancy apartment; I just need you. I just assumed…”
Am I being selfish, asking Xan to stay in a shoebox when he’s used to a stadium?
“Are you sure?” I ask.
“Yes, baby. I’m positive. I just want you.”
And I just want him. I fall asleep in peace and he’s given me everything I could ever ask for.
* * *
He’son his phone when I make it downstairs the next morning. I drop a kiss onto his shoulder because he’s topless. “This is a view I can get used to in the morning.”
His eyes roam up and down my body, and where he slid on a pair of jeans this morning, which I love on Xan, I’m still in my boxers. “Back at you, baby,” he teases with a wink.
“Oh, and you have coffee ready.” I pour myself a cup and slide in next to him on the empty barstool at the kitchen island.
“I can do you one better. I was about to start breakfast. I bet the kid who misses his ma’s home-cooked meals would come down once he smelled bacon, hash browns, and pancakes.”
“Yeah, but let me enjoy a cup of coffee with you first.” His mug is still full. “So, what are you doing?” He picks up his phone to show me a text thread that reads:The Spawn of Satan. “Oh, you’re brave before your first cup of coffee.”
“It’s my second, but there’s still truth to it, to be fair.”
He’d mentioned he’d have to be back in Minnesota all next week. But after that, he’d only go for a couple days each month.
“So, what did the spawn say?” I begin to read the first message from Xan out loud. “Hey, I think we got off on the wrong foot. Would you be willing to meet today for lunch, or even a coffee?”
His response was onlysurethen the next one came through aswhere. When Xan texted Little Italy or Chinatown, the asshole responded with a“Why are you there? Thought you’d be somewhere more upscale.”
“I really don’t like this guy, baby.”
He clinks his mug with mine. “You’re not the only one.” Xan has self-restraint because he didn’t get into it with his brother. He mentioned the pizzeria downstairs and it is how Nicolas half-heartedly agrees to meet him here.
