Page 57 of Gap Control

Chapter twelve

Mason

I'd cleaned the apartment like it mattered.

Not obsessively or to the point where it looked staged. It was enough to feel intentional—dishes put away, couch cushions straightened, and playlist cued low in the background. There was a hint of citrus from the candle on the bookshelf, and a vase of flowers on the coffee table.

They weren't fancy. Grocery store bouquet. Mostly yellow. The kind of thing you could brush off as cheerful without calling it romantic.

I bought them anyway.

I was expecting company, and he announced his arrival with a soft knock at the door. I rubbed my hands down the front of my jeans and checked the mirror one last time to make sure I still looked like me.

When I opened the door, TJ stood there, snowflakes in his hair and cheeks pink from the cold. His hoodie was visible under his jacket—the shimmer hoodie.

He grinned like we hadn't seen each other in a week. "Hope you're hungry. I brought Thai. And also… accidentally bought a box of mochi. For research purposes."

I stepped back so he could step inside. "You're researching desserts now?"

"Someone has to. I'm doing this for the people."

He brushed past me, the scent of soy sauce trailing after him. I shut the door, and when I turned around, he was already halfway into the living room, kicking off his boots and making a beeline for the couch like it was another Thursday with a buddy.

He stopped short.

I watched his shoulders pause, then dip slightly. He crouched toward the coffee table.

"Whoa, are these for me?"

I let him wait for an answer, removing my jacket, hanging it on the hook by the door, and stepping into the space between us.

He turned to look at me.

"Who else would they be for?"

He looked down again, then back up. "They're nice. Unexpected."

"You hate them?"

"No. I—you don't usually do the, you know, gesture thing."

"You don't usually bring mochi."

He laughed, but it was quieter than usual. "Touché."

A few seconds of silence passed between us.

"Should I, uh… set the food down?"

I nodded. "Yeah. We can eat in a minute."

TJ moved to the kitchen, set the bag on the counter, and then turned around slowly.

He glanced at the flowers again. "You okay?"

"I will be."

He didn't ask what I meant and leaned a hip against the counter, arms crossed like he wasn't sure whether to stay inplace or come closer. His expression was still open, still TJ, but quieter.

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