Page 99 of I'm Your Guy
“Have a great game tonight,” I say quietly.
“I’ll try,” is his muttered response.
While I’m waiting for my car to heat up, my phone rings. Rigo Calling. I’m not really in the mood to talk, but it’s odd that he’s so desperate to reach me. “Is everything okay?” I ask when I answer.
“Dude! I’m in Boulder, painting your new apartment.”
“Wait, what? I wasn’t even looking at places in Boulder.” It’s too expensive. Everybody knows that.
“I’m telling you, this place is perfect for you. Get down here—the owner is in the building. He’s got us painting three units. Two of them are pricey, but one is perfect. Get this—it’s available on the first of the year! How fast can you get to Fourteenth Street?”
“Pretty damn fast,” I say. “Text me the address.”
THIRTY-FIVE
Tommaso
After Carter leaves, my house feels really empty. I adjust a few ornaments on the Christmas tree and then sit down on the couch and stare at it.
It’s a gorgeous tree. In a gorgeous room. Carter was right about everything, right from the beginning. Even when I made his job difficult, he still built me a refuge. He made me a comfortable, private space to live my life.
If only I had a life.
Last night I had everything I wanted. Tangled up in my bed with the most amazing man I’ve ever met.
But then I wrecked it this morning.
I pop off the couch and pace around for a few minutes. My gaze lands on the wrapping paper Carter bought. I use some to wrap my mother’s present. He’s even provided tape and a color-coordinated ribbon.
It takes about fifteen minutes, but once I’ve finished, there’s nothing more to do than wander around my house again, wondering where Carter has gone, and whether he’s okay.
When I climb the stairs, I’m confronted by the tousled bed. I almost can’t believe what went on in here. Years of wish-fulfillment concentrated into one perfect night.
I make the bed without changing the sheets. Then I pick up the pillow and press my face against it. It smells like him. So at least I didn’t dream it.
Except this morning he hid in the guestroom. He did that for me when Gavin knocked on the door, probably because he could see the panic in my eyes.
For a moment I’d been relieved. Now I’m just embarrassed.
After another tour of the bedroom, I sit down on the end of the bed and call my mom, and I’m gratified when she picks up.
“Tommaso! You have a game tonight, right? Montreal?”
“Hey, Ma. Yeah, it’s game night. But it’s always game night. How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay, sweetie. Really. Everyone made a big fuss, and all I needed was some extra vitamins.”
“That’s underplaying it.”
“No, it isn’t. I just finished a round of chemo, so I was really drained. But I’m already feeling more lively. My appetite is coming back. I’ve been keeping myself from going crazy in this hospital bed by thinking about the things I want to cook in your kitchen. You have pots and pans, right?”
Hearing that makes me grin. “The kitchen is fully stocked. I got a Christmas tree last night, too. And there’s a wreath on the door. I’m all ready for you.”
“I can’t wait, Tommy. Seriously. I’m looking forward to it. Is there anything in particular you want for Christmas? Gia wants to send you something, but we’re all out of ideas.”
“Tell her that’s nice, but there’s nothing I want.” Nothing you can get at the store, anyway. I want two things very badly: I want my mother to beat cancer, and I want Carter.
“Thought you’d say that. You need any ideas for your sister?”
