Page 85 of Shattered Rhythm

I knock on Gunner’s door, the six-pack of beer and a plastic bag in my hand. He opens the door, and I can see that his face looks less swollen than yesterday, but more colorful. He steps back to let me in, and I go straight to his kitchenette to put the beers in the fridge. I notice the charcuterie board still wrapped up and untouched in there, and I smile.

“How are you feeling, Gun?” I ask, turning to him, and he shrugs.

“Better. I was looking forward to tonight, though,” he says, and I smile.

“Me too. Want me to get the board out and select a movie? I’m hungry.” I blush a little and he laughs.

“Sure, get your fancy ass board out,” he says.

“Hey, you’ll love it. It has a little bit of everything, and we can eat with our hands,” I say, grinning like a kid, and he shakes his head. “Mind if I open the Moscato? You can have a beer if you prefer.”

“No, I’ll try the Moscato with you,” he says, going to the kitchenette and getting out some fancy glasses, and I can’t help but laugh.

“Who’s the fancy one now?” I ask, pointing at them.

He just shrugs but blushes a little while opening the bottle and pouring us each a glass of the bubbly drink. I remove the foil from the charcuterie board and place it in the center of the bed, sitting at the end with my legs crossed. Gunner comes over, hands me my glass, and sits on the other side of the board.

“To you, the best friend I’ve ever had and one of my favorite humans,” I say, toasting him. He looks sad, but he still clinks glasses with me.

“To you,” he says simply. We sip the Moscato, and I hum, enjoying the taste.

“So good,” I comment before making myself a little snack from the board. Gunner watches me and copies what I do. “You’ve never done finger food before, have you?” I laugh.

“Nope, I’ve only ever watched rich people’s backs while they’re doing it,” he says.

“Finger food isn’t just for rich people!” I exclaim. He raises his eyebrows at me. “Okay, maybe a bit, but it’s fun!”

“With you, it definitely is,” he says, laughing.

We nearly finish the board, chatting about dance and classes while sipping our drinks. When we’re done, Gunner takes the board and the glasses to the kitchenette, and I get up to grab my bag.

“I brought you some ointment for your bruises,” I say, knowing from experience that it works. More than once, I needed to get rid of bruises quickly for a performance with outfits that showed more skin. “It’ll make them heal faster and reduce the pain a bit,” I add, hoping it will help him feel better.

Gunner sits down on the edge of his bed, and I gently apply the ointment to his bruises. He winces slightly from the pain, but I try to be as gentle as possible.

“There you go, all done. I’ll leave the bottle here so you can reapply it tomorrow after your shower,” I tell him. He nods in thanks as I go to wash my hands in his bathroom.

When I come back out, I see a black and white dreamcatcher with green feathers in his hand.

“I got you something too. I thought maybe it can help with your nightmares,” he explains. I touch the dreamcatcher with my fingertips, admiring it.

“It’s so pretty, Gunner. Thank you so much,” I say, hugging him tightly.

“You’re welcome,” he whispers while rubbing my back.

“Could you help me hang it?” I ask. “I don’t have a hammer or know how to do it.” I start to fidget at the thought doing it myself, but he laughs.

“Sure, let’s go over there,” he replies.

I take the dreamcatcher from him while he gathers a hammer and a nail. We head back to my apartment and make sure I’m happy with the placement before he hammers the nail into the wall. Once it’s securely in place, I hand him the dreamcatcher, and he hangs it on the nail. It looks perfect against the white of the wall. Gunner smiles at me.

“I hope it helps with the nightmares,” he says.

“Thank you,” I reply, smiling up at him.

“Do you want to watch the movie here, or should we head back?” I ask him, but he just gets on my bed, back against the headboard, and pulls me to sit between his legs, my back to his chest. He puts his arms around me and rests his chin on my head.

“Let’s stay here,” he says. I reach for the remote beside me and open the on-demand service.

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