Page 46 of Gift of You
The smile slipped a fraction. “Who’s the stubborn one? You’re the one who won’t drop it.”
“Ugh. You’re such a pain in the ass.” I turned on my heel and went back into his apartment, grumbling as I went. After debating the situation with Ernie, who was no help whatsoever, I managed to locate another shovel in his basement. I traipsed back upstairs and headed out onto the balcony.
I didn’t say a word, just moved up next to him and began shoveling the area in front of my door. He stopped to glare at me, which I ignored. We shoveled the remainder of the walkway, leaving only the stairs, which would be nearly impossible for both of us to do at the same time.
“Okay, you’ve helped. Feel better?”
I shrugged. “I do actually. I’ll feel even better after I finish the stairs.”
“You’re not doing the stairs,” he growled.
“Are you going to stop me?” I wasn’t even sure why I was arguing over this. I wasn’t really a manual labor sort of guy. But I had an anxious, restless energy, and I needed to do something with it.
Taking me by surprise, Matty grabbed my arm and spun me around so that my back was pressed against the door to my rental. God, I loved it when he pressed me up against things. I went hard so fast I was lightheaded with it.
“You want to explain why you’re picking a fight with me?”
“You want to explain why you wouldn’t let me help?”
“Because I really was almost finished. And you don’t have a proper coat. And because...” His voice softened. “I like taking care of you, Lou. Why won’t you let me?”
“What if I want to take care of you for once? Repay you for everything you’ve done for me while I’m here.”
His brows drew up. “Repayme?Ishould be the one repayingyou.”
“For what? Teaching you the ways of gay sex? Not exactly a hardship, Matty.”
He leaned in closer, his lips nearly brushing against mine. “For pulling me out of the darkness.” He didn’t wait for me to respond, which was just as well because I wasn’t sure I would have found the words anyway. His lips captured mine in a kiss so tender it had tears springing to my eyes. Dear lord, how was I going to go home tomorrow and keep my heart in once piece?
When he pulled away, I said, “At least let me make you breakfast.”
“Deal. Give me forty-five minutes.”
“I thought you were almost done?”
“I need to finish the walk in front of the store too.” He kissed me again, then pushed away, taking his shovel with him.
After rummaging around in the fridge, I decided on omelets, hoping to use up some of the leftover ingredients before I headed home tomorrow. I prepped the veggies and grated the cheese, but set everything aside since the omelets would only take a few minutes to actually cook. While I waited for him to finish, I headed back into the bedroom, deciding to get a start on my packing.
I pulled sweaters out of drawers and shirts off hangers, folding and refolding everything into neat piles. I typically found comfort in folding clothes, appreciating the mundanity of the exercise, but today it was just a reminder that I was leaving. There was the sweater I’d worn for Christmas dinner, and the one I’d worn to lunch at Billy’s—the day Matty’d bought me the rainbow beanie. Boxers, jockstraps I hadn’t had a chance to wear. Five pairs of shoes, because you could never have too many. All of it a reminder that my place here wasn’t permanent. I was heading home. But what happened when home was no longer a place? What if it was a person?
The door to the apartment opened and closed. I could hear the sounds of Matthew removing his coat and boots, and I should have gone out there to start the omelets, but I was frozenin place, clutching a pair of striped socks that should have meant absolutely nothing—except they were the ones I’d been wearing the night of the wedding, when I’d come home drunk and been locked out of my apartment. I’d still been wearing them the next day when I’d woken and realized Matthew had brought me home. Ever the caretaker, even for a stranger, he’d taken my glasses off and left a bowl and a glass of water for me.
“Hey, what’re you doing back here?” Matty brushed a cold hand across my back as he stepped into the room and surveyed the piles I’d laid out on the bed.
“I just thought I’d get started on my packing.”
“Oh.” He folded his arms across his chest, eyes still trained on the bed. “What time are you heading out?”
“First thing. I’ve got some laundry to do before heading to a New Year’s party.”
“Oh. That’s, uh, that’s good.” His tone was flat, and he still wasn’t looking at me. I didn’t know what to make of it.
I swallowed hard, hating this awkwardness between us. I didn’t want our last day together to be filled with uncomfortable pauses and melancholy thoughts. I wanted the laughter, the flirting. Maybe a little fucking. I wanted our last day to be happy.
Instead I said, “Do you think you can take me to get my car after breakfast?”
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