Page 187 of King of Pain
ME:On my way. Hope you cleared some closet space, baby. I brought souvenirs.
I slip behind the wheel and head…home.
TRACK FIFTY•NINE
Sexual Healing
Chance
Ant’s got one box labeledCLOTHESbalanced on his hip, and I’m carrying the other as we step through the front door of the condo.
Little G spins in circles, chasing his tail in excitement.
Honestly, same.
The possessive rush that comes with carrying Ant’s boxes into my place hits hard.
I need to reel it in.
I’m not trying to be a full-blown walking red flag.
I’ll just be a teeny, tiny, bite-sized one.
I set the box I’m carrying on the counter and grab the box of clothes from Ant instead. Selfishly, I want to hang just a few of his things inourcloset. It’s already half full of his stuff, but this makes it official. I slide his shirts onto hangers and run my hand down the line of fabric. T-shirts, dress shirts, hoodies I’ve stolen and plan to keep stealing.
They belong here. Like he does.
When I leave the closet, I find Ant setting two more boxes on the bed. One of them has my name written on the side in his handwriting. It’s sobering. It takes me back to the day I left—how I just… disappeared. And yet he kept my things.
“What’s all this?” I ask.
Ant shrugs, already unpacking the other box. “Just some of your stuff. Thought you might want to go through it, so I brought it this trip.”
I move to the bed and pop the lid off. Inside is a stack of records. I run my fingers over the note I had left on the bathroom mirror for him and start flipping through the albums, one by one. I stop when I see a bold flash of red.
I look up. “Hey, Ant?”
He turns after setting the framed Stevie Nicks drawing and lyrics I gave him on the nightstand. “Yeah?”
I hold upKiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Meby The Cure.
A smile blooms slowly across his face.
I tap my lips twice, deliberately.
He huffs out a laugh and walks over, pressing a kiss to my lips.
Foreheads resting together, I whisper, “Seeing your stuff here makes me a very happy man.”
“Me too.” He kisses me again, softer this time. “Okay, you finish getting reacquainted with your things. I’m going to go start dinner.”
“A very,veryhappy man.”
Ant grins and points a finger at me. “Have fun. I’ve got stuff for Chicken Piccata. Sound good?”
I groan in anticipation. “Is that even a question?”
He smirks and walks out. The moment he’s gone, I dive into the box.
