Page 200 of Cloudy With a Chance of Bad Decisions

I couldn’t even feel embarrassed that his friend had teased him about the hickeys and bite marks on my neck. Couldn’t be miffed that Alex was currently bouncing off the walls—being loud enough to shake my tired brain apart—because it was far preferable than the sad, endearing ball of misery that he’d been earlier today.

I’d wanted to hold him, but even I could tell that would be too much.

He was too raw at the time.

Unlike now…now when his guard was down again, and his eyes were manic.

“Where are we going?” I asked, interrupting more of Alex’s headbanging. He looked sostupid. Stupidlyadorable. The way he was dancing was out of sync with the beat of the music—and he was lucky that we’d stopped in front of one of the many train tracks that crossed Columbus or his voracious moves would’ve been a health hazard. He was probably doing it on purpose because he found bouncing off-beat to be fun like the chaos demon he was.

Train cars covered in graffiti zoomed in front of us, thecreak-rattleof wheels on the track loud in the nighttime quiet—but not as loud as the beatof my heart, or Alex’s presence in my head.

“We’re going home,” Alex answered my question.

“Home?” I blinked.

“Myhome,” Alex reiterated. “In Columbus.”

“I know what city we’re in, thank you,” I sighed, though I was…still confused. “I thought you wanted to go to a hotel? What about mydiamonds, Alex?” I deadpanned, surprised by how natural it felt—and how easy it was to focus on him and push aside my warring thoughts. “You said that you were going tospoilme.”

“I literallyjustbought you a suit?! Greedy, much?” Alex teased, wild and unrepentant. He wasn’t offended by my joke, which was a relief—and only further proved how close we’d gotten over the last few days.

It felt like we’d known each other years, not less than a week.

And the fact that I could joke about money-related issues, given what he’d admitted last night, spoke volumes about that bond.

Alex’s still-broken watch was back in its rightful spot on his wrist.

Sitting next to the friendship bracelet I’d made him, it caught the light from the street lamps to our left and right. His forearms flexed, tan hands cupping the steering wheel like it was an old friend. When I glanced back up at his face, Alex’s pale eyes were bright.

“You’re right, though. Ididsay that. And I meant it. But—plans have changed,” he said. “I realized I was wrong.”

“Wrong?” I frowned.

“I miscalculated—I’ve never actually had arealpartner to spoil.”Alex admitted when the rattle of the train had finally stopped, and the caboose passed by in front of us. The red and white railroad crossing gates slowly began to rise back into position. “You’re different. You’re not one of my nameless exes. Not a Poundr hookup. You’reGeorge. And if I’m going toshowhow you deserve to be treated, I’m gonna do that in my own goddamn house—in my own fucking bed.”

I understood what he meant.

The hotel had been before we’d…reachedthis. A new level of not-boyfriends. At some point, we’d crossed a line into unknown territory. Things were different. Better, more, and stronger. The tension between us flickered liquid-hot and airy at the same time. Like it was simultaneously a scorching iron and a fluffy summer cloud.

I could honestly say I’d never felt this way about anyone else.

A beat passed, companionable silence filling the car as Alex waited for the gates to rise all the way so we could cross the tracks safely.

“Relax.” He reached out, fingers looping around my wrist. There was no one behind us, so I didn’t worry about stopping traffic. Okay, maybe I worried a bit—but it was only because it was the law.

The muscle at the corner of Alex’s jaw jumped, his expression nothing but honest earnestness as he brought my hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it.

“Quid pro quo, George,” he said softly. “You took care of me earlier. Now let me take care of you.”

It wasn’t a look I saw on him often, walls down, open sincerity written all over his face. I’d been seeing a lot more of it lately. Like now that I’d broken through the last of Alex’s fortifications, he didn’t know how to get them back up again. I didn’t know what to do with it. Especially given the direction our conversation had veered.

It was too much.

It was all too much.

I was going back to New York soon. There wasn’t—there wasn’t room for declarations like that. And yet…Alex made room anyway. Like he was carving space for us in the universe.

Alex lived in a house that was so picture perfect I was half-tempted to take asnapshot to add it to my vision board. Red brick. White trim. A space large enough for a family to grow into. It looked homey and inviting, set inside a neighborhood of other similar fancy houses. Ivy danced up the walls, the yard was spacious and flawlessly manicured, and the cement walkway that led from the covered front porch to the street was lined with perfectly spaced rose bushes.

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