Page 33 of Rook

“I never really got to as a kid. Those building sets were expensive as fuck. We never had the money for bills, let alone toys that you can only use once. That one was a gift from Dell for Christmas, since she heard me talking about loving the movie as a kid.”

“That’s sweet. You’re really lucky to have people in your life who pay attention like that.”

“Trust me, I know,” Rook said, voice intense. “But, yeah, when I went away, there was no one around to save my shit. I imagine most of it got sold or tossed. Then spending time inside, where you can’t have anything, I guess not accumulating stuff became habit.”

“Doesn’t help that you know that anything you do get will be touched and scrutinized by Nancy.”

“Yeah, that’s a factor. A lot of the stuff I had that I liked was shit for my desk setup: chair, lighting, storage systems for keyboards. But I can’t have any of that now.”

“I get it. Though, maybe if we are going to really try to sell this serious relationship thing, we should pick up some art or picture frames… just anything to make it seem like we are settling in together.”

“Should probably take some pictures together too. Spend a day going around to different places, snapping a picture, changing, taking more.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” I agreed, parking right on the street outside of the studio. That was the perk of such a small town—you never had to worry about parking spots. Except maybe on a Friday or Saturday night when the bar and pool hall were bustling.

We moved in comfortable silence, unpacking the car, sorting my items, and moving them into the appropriate places. Including my silly little mermaid mug in the cabinet next to his that featured a computer circuit grid.

“Nancy didn’t have something to say about this?” I asked him.

“I don’t think she knows what it is,” he said with a shrug.

“Wait, no. Those should be on the couch,” I called when he took my blanket and stuffed animal toward the bed.

“No. You’re taking the bed. I’ll be on the couch.”

“What? No. You won’t evenfiton the couch.”

That wasn’t even to mention how damn uncomfortable the thing was. I’d sat with him on it for all of five minutes, and my butt had been sore.

“It’ll be fine.”

“Rook, come on. I’m smaller; I should be on the couch.”

My body was already accustomed to sleeping in uncomfortable spaces. I’d been sleeping with a seatbelt buckle jabbing me in the hip for weeks. I could handle an overly firm couch.

“Babe, we’re not arguing over this. You get the bed.” As if to emphasize his point, he spread the blanket over said bed and put the stuffed animal at the top by the pillows.

Maybe I should have offered to share the bed. But it was only a full. And I didn’t want him getting any sort of ideas.

The last thing we needed was anything complicating our arrangement. I was really looking forward to a place to stay. And not to mention the money he was paying me to “put my life on hold.” If he only knew how little of a life I had…

“We could compromise. Every other night,” I suggested. To that, Rook shot me the best long-suffering look I’d seen on someone who wasn’t a parent. “Fine. I will sleep in the bed. But I reserve the right to bring this up again when you throw out your back on that couch and can’t stand upright.”

That got his lips curving up.

“Noted,” he agreed. “But I can’t imagine it’s gonna be any worse than the paper-thin mattress I had in prison.”

Finished with putting my things away, Rook made us coffee, and we both moved to the couch to wind down and watch a show while engaging in our fake text history. That didn’t feel quite as fake as we were sitting close on the couch. With my legs cross-crossed, my knee was pressed up against the side of his thigh, thanks to his manspreading situation.

The not-so-fake conversation went from casual ‘Want to go get some dinner after work?’ texts to something else entirely suddenly.

The text came through with a little ding.

And I nearly dropped my damn phone.

Been thinking about your sweet pussy all day.

My eyes must have bugged—even as my sex tightened, but we weren’t going to acknowledge that—because Rook looked over.

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