Page 65 of I'm Your Guy
His blue eyes widen. “Oh, wow. Thank you.”
“It’s the least I could do. Thanks for being so good to me even when I’ve been…” I have to take a breath just to get the rest of the sentence out. “…a damn mess, and the worst client ever.”
“Jersey.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know what you’re going through, exactly. But if you want to be the worst client, you’ve got to try a little harder to be an asshole. You’re not even top five at this point.”
I snort. “That’s good to hear.”
His eyes dip. “I know I’m not supposed to say this, but I really like you. A lot. And if circumstances were different, I’d show you just how much.”
For a moment, I forget to breathe. Nobody says things like that to me.
“Anyway.” He rolls his shoulders, as if he’s suddenly self-conscious. “Just thought I’d say that, since we don’t see much of each other anymore. You’re going to Arizona tomorrow, right?”
“That’s right,” I manage.
“Cool. I’ll get some work done at your place while you’re gone. You have a good game, okay? I haven’t forgotten about your Christmas tree, by the way. I just need to get the curtains up first.”
The damn curtains. I don’t even want them. Every time I look at that white fabric, I’ll be tasting his kiss.
“Good night, Jersey,” he says softly.
“’Night, Montana,” I say quietly.
Then I make myself hang up.
TWENTY-FOUR
Carter
At dawn, after a very uncomfortable night, I take a shower in the ugly little bathroom, and then I get the hell out of that hotel.
In my car, I pass Starbucks with a longing glance, opting for a fast-food breakfast sandwich and low-budget coffee. I take a seat at a table and open up my laptop. The stores don’t open for another few hours, but there’s always internet shopping.
Today I’m focused on lighting. Asking for Tommaso’s opinion still yields mixed results, but I try, nonetheless.
Carter
Which of these lamps do you prefer?
Tommaso
Lamps? I thought I had enough lights?
You have almost none, unless you’re counting the ceiling fixtures. And I’m not. Life is more beautiful with good lighting. So please click and pick.
How about you choose instead? I’m getting ready for a day of sportsing.
His quick answer makes me smile. I picture him sitting on the end of the bed I found him, drinking a cup of coffee. And it makes me happy to imagine him in a comfortable space that I designed.
Okay. Cool. But when we’re sitting on the couch after sportsing, reading our sportsing magazines, do we care if the lamp beside us has a dimmer switch?
We don’t care as long as the beer is cold.
Noted. Good news—there’s going to be a side table to rest that beer on. It has a wood finish. So I’d better find you a coaster for under that beer, unless you have coasters?
I do not. My rental apartment furniture was made of something plasticky and indestructible.
Sounds tragic.
