Page 108 of Employing Patience

I watch as Joey walks over to my couch and runs his fingers over the old patchwork blanket. “My gran made that.”

“I figured.” He points to a rainbow pot with a struggling fern in it. “And that?”

“Alice painted it when she was five.”

Joey laughs, moving through the space. He pauses to look at the photos on my wall, the artwork plastered all over my fridge, the dragon plaster figures on the windowsill that I made with Alice and Gus, before Gus broke the wing off his and we ended up sticking it back on upside down.

And as Joey takes in all of the little moments my house is filled with, that nervousness increases. That urge to be defensive. To point out that these things make me happy, and why shouldn’t I have those reminders around?

Joey circles back to me and, without saying anything, closes his hand over the back of my neck and draws me into a soft kiss. “I see you, Artur de Almeida. You can hide who you are from everyone else, but I see it.”

I swallow thickly. “And who am I?”

“You’re the guardian people don’t expect.”

I chuckle, trying to play off how his words hit. “Guardian? You think a lot more of me than I deserve.”

“I think that’s what you want people to think. I think you’re always there for your sister.” He waves a hand toward the main house. “And your parents and your friends. You never point it out or draw attention; you do it in a way where they barely notice your presence, but they would if they didn’t have it anymore.”

“Joey, you’re overestimating me.”

“I think people are so used to you giving and solving their problems and being their rock that it goes overlooked. I think you want people to buy into this ridiculous playboy image you love so much because it means they don’t look so hard at the other stuff. And you’re so good at the other stuff. You don’t throw all those parties for yourself, do you? You’re not the one who needs to be social. Who needs a reason to be around people. You’re always around people, unlike your friends. You give them that community they need. I didn’t notice at first. The schedule change, the extra hours, the CCTV. You don’t follow me outside when I walk people out because you’re jealous, do you, Art?”

I frown.

“You told me, and I didn’t listen. Duty of care. You’re everybody’s protector, and no one ever knows.”

My face has gotten hot, and when I go to shift away, Joey pulls me in tighter. “Clearly, my cum has made you think I’m better than I am.”

Joey’s eyes narrow. “Donations to Alice and Gus’s school. Tommy’s daughter’s braces. The payment plans at the garage that disappeared, according to Courtney. My house. My bills. The food.”

Each word sinks lead into my stomach, even as he grips me tighter.

“I know who you are.”

“How …”

“You’re not as sneaky as you think you are.”

“I could deny it.”

“You could, but I wouldn’t believe you.”

“Well, fuck.”

Nevele Ounces has been mine. My safety. Joey’s just stripped me bare and left me reeling.

Joey laughs, breaking the tension and dragging me over to my bed. He grabs the stuffed teddy in the middle and lifts it my way.

I unstick my throat and croak, “It matches Gus’s. We made them together.”

He sets it on the nightstand, facing away, which I take to mean he has fun things planned for later. Joey kicks off his shoes and flops down on his back, then pats the space beside him.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” I point out.

“I’m wearing exactly how many clothes I need to be for us to finish this conversation. Any less, and you’ll get distracted. I know you too well already.”

I groan because he really does. I don’t know when that happened, but I guess I’m in it now. Following his lead, I kick off my shoes, then go one step further and shove out of my pants before crawling up beside him.

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