Page 209 of Becoming Us
My cheekbones jutted out. My eyes looked hollow. My collarbone was more prominent than I’d ever seen it. This time, I truly couldn’t remember the last time I ate a full meal. I rummaged through the drawers until I found a razor.
When I finally worked up the courage to step outside, there he was—Atty, in the kitchen. Our eyes met, and he froze, taking in the sight of me.
He had cleaned the apartment too. The floors, the couch. There was no trace of what had happened there.
“How domestic of you,” I said, breaking the silence.
His smile lit up the room instantly.
I slid onto one of the stools as he placed a plate in front of me. A grilled cheese. I blinked away the sting behind my eyes.
“Do you want anything to drink?”
I nodded and watched him walk to the fridge. He pulled something out, and I had to do a double take—it hadn’t looked like that the last time I’d opened it.Did he do that too?
Embarrassment bloomed in my chest. That he’d seen the place like this. That he’d seenmelike that.
“You know, I have a lady who does these things,” I said, just as the dryer beeped in the distance.
He gave the apartment a pointed once-over before meeting my gaze. “Yeah? Do you think she maybe quit?”
A laugh broke from my chest, the humor warming me more than the food I was finally allowing myself to eat.
“This is good. You’re a good cook and cleaning lady, apparently. Maybe I should hire you.”
Maybe I could keep you forever.
He didn’t answer. Just sat on the stool next to mine, his pale eyes fixed on me. I couldn’t quite meet them.
“You don’t have to tell me about it if you don’t want to,” he said. “I’m still staying here with you today, okay?”
The sting was back.
His palm rested on the back of my neck, and it was everything. Warm, steady, and there.
I nodded, and before I could stop myself, leaned into him. His whole body radiated the same warmth. Still cautious, watching for any hesitation from him, I slipped an arm around his waist.
It feels so good to be close to him.
He smelled like sweat and cleaning supplies, but underneath all of it, there washim—and nothing in the world had ever smelled more like home.
Then his arm came over my shoulder, and my eyes squeezed shut, my nose close enough to graze his skin.Fuck, I wanted this. I wanted this to be mine so bad.I grabbed his wrist and pulled on it slightly, and he made a soft sound before wrapping me in a hug.
“Thanks, Atty.” The words were thick with emotion. I hoped he knew what I meant.How muchI meant it.
“Anytime.” His deep voice rumbled between us.
Anytime.
Like I could have this. Like I could really keep him forever.
I finished the sandwich—just because he’d made it—but I didn’t move an inch. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t try to. Just kept tracing his thumb along my arm. Up and down. Up and down.
Later that same day, his eyes locked on mine. His fingers laced through my own, holding me like a lifeline.
It wasn’t an exaggeration.
Atty was the only reason I was still here. The reason there was even a flicker of longing in my chest. Because he was giving me that look again.
