Page 34 of Beneath the Indigo Sky

I step out of the kitchen and into the front room like I’ve been caught going through his underwear drawer.

“Hey.” He looks startled by my sudden appearance, and I nervously run my hand through my hair.

“Hey. You okay?” He doesn’t feel upset with me, just concerned.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. You?”

Relief spreads through the room.

Oh. He’s not concerned that I’m here; he’s concerned that I might not be okay. After everything that’s happened today, after everything I told him, he’s concerned for me. God. Could he be any more perfect?

His gentle smile abruptly disappears, only to be replaced by confusion. “Are you cooking something?”

I shuffle my feet nervously. “Yeah. I didn’t know if you ate at the hospital, and it’s late. I didn’t want you to go to bed hungry. It’s just pasta. If you give me five more minutes, I can drain it for you and then it will be ready when you get back.”

“Back?”

“From taking me home.”

His head tilts slightly. “Did you eat tonight?”

“Not yet, but I have food at home. I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

Small lines appear beside his beautiful green eyes as he smiles and steps closer. “Namid. I’m not kicking you out. Jesus.” He laughs softly. “Have dinner with me. If you want me to take you home right after, I’d be happy to, but I have a guest room. You’re welcome to spend the night here so that you can be closer to Ken if you’d like.”

“Seriously?” My voice is small and cracked, my throat sore from stress and worry and tears, and my own emotions threaten to overwhelm me.

“Of course.” His voice is strength and laughter and peace as he closes the distance between us and wraps me in his arms.

I melt against his body, burying my face in his shoulder and taking what feels like my first deep breath since the cabinet slipped from our grip this afternoon. He holds me tightly, enveloping me in his warmth for a long moment before I find the strength to force myself to step back and clear my throat. If I allow myself even one more moment in his arms, I’ll do something stupid enough to ruin our friendship. I never want to let him go.

I run my fingers through my hair as I step back.

“I wasn’t really sure what you liked or anything. I mean, I know you like bear claws, but I didn’t have the time to burn your kitchen down trying to make those at midnight.”

Jayce’s soul lightens a bit more, and his deep chuckle runs along my spine, leaving me trembling as goosebumps rise across my skin. I turn on my heel and quickly make my way back to the kitchen in the hope he doesn’t notice.

A mumbled, “It’s just pasta with some vegetables,” is all I can come up with as I dump the noodles into the strainer I have waiting in the sink, put an inch of water back in the pot, and slide the veggies off the cutting board into the water to steam.

“It’s perfect, thank you.”

He moves through the kitchen behind me as I face the stove, idly stirring the vegetables around even though they don’t need any attention. I can’t bring myself to face him; it’s too intimate, being here in his small kitchen, and I’m too emotionally on edge to trust myself not to do something I’ll regret - like blurt out that I’m in love with him. Jayce pulls out bowls and fills glasses with water from the sink. I hear him pop the caps off two beer bottles, and I jump a bit as he reaches over my shoulder to dangle one of them in front of me.

“Thanks.” I hope he can’t hear the way my voice seems to quiver over the fact that he’s standing so close behind me that I can feel the warmth of his body along my back.

By the time he’s loaded the bowls with noodles and sauce, the veggies are done, and I spoon them into the bowls he holds out for me before we settle silently at the table together.

I want this. I want this always. I want this so much.

We’re quiet as we eat, both exhausted and lost in our own thoughts. It’s not like silence is new for us; we spend plenty of time together without feeling the need to fill the space between us with unnecessary words. The silence isn’t awkward - it’s comfortable and companionable, and I’m grateful to be with Jayce instead of alone in my cabin tonight. He’s tired and concerned, but he’s not scared or worried, and it makes me feel like everything just might be okay.

“I’ll get you some pajamas, and then you’re welcome to shower first.” His voice is steady as we stand together at the sink cleaning the few dishes we’ve dirtied.

Shower. Here. I’m going to shower in Jayce’s house? I glance over, a bit startled at the suggestion, somehow only now taking notice of the streaks of grime and dust that cling to his skin from hours in the dirty basement. I always notice everything about him, and it’s a testament to my frazzled emotional state that his disheveled appearance has escaped me until now.

I can’t help laughing and pushing my hair back self-consciously.

“Right. No basement dirt in your bed.”

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