9. Ethan
9
ETHAN
With a soft, melodic beep, the garage doors of my new apartment building slide open. After driving down, I park my truck in one of the four spots assigned to our unit and pull my phone out to tell James that I’ve arrived.
The sheer silence of the parking lot, coupled with the fact that it’s decorated with freaking gold-plated accents, makes me swallow a nervous lump that’s rising in my throat. I’m not used to this kind of place at all.
My phone buzzes.
James Hernandez
Go to the lobby. I’ll meet you there
I follow the signs for the elevators, walking further into the parking lot away from the entrance. After taking the elevator up one floor, I’m met with a vast, marble expanse. The ceiling stretches up, and it’s like the space is swallowing me whole. Then, I spot James across the lobby, and I smile without realizing it.
We’re just friends. That’s why you’re smiling.
“Hey,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
“You seem lost.” James sounds amused, and I make a noise in agreement.
He hands me a ring with an electronic fob and two metal keys on it. “Follow me.”
We walk around a corner and step into a different elevator. It’s kind of small, but the interior is modern and minimalist. James beeps his key fob, and as the doors close, I glance at the buttons. There are three of them.
Parking. Lobby. Residence.
What. The. Hell.
James just grins at me.
The elevator dings and we walk into a tidy entryway. There’s an emergency exit off to the left, and an imposing, heavy gray door straight ahead. James steps forward and beckons me in.
The apartment opens up into a cavernous living room with more natural light than everywhere I’ve ever lived, combined. I can’t help but stare. And wonder if I can even afford to breathe in this place.
“What do you think?” James asks, his eyes scanning my face for a reaction.
I swallow, trying to find my voice. “It’s a lot,” I manage.
A long silence stretches between us, and a wave of apprehension surges forth in my stomach. There’s no way I can move in here and not pay my share of the cost. It’s not right.
“James,” I begin, “this is way too much.”
His expression softens. “I know, but I want you to live here with me, and I don’t want to live alone. Besides, you shouldn’t be stranded in Portland.” There’s a strain in his voice that catches me off guard.
I stay silent while thinking. On one hand, this is huge. James, or his family, just obtained an impossibly lavish apartment within a day like it was nothing. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m somehow taking advantage of him, or intruding. On the other hand, he asked me to move in with him. He’s insisting, even when I won’t be paying rent. And the drive from Portland is over an hour, not counting traffic.
I remind myself that I have to get over my reluctance to accept things from other people. Sure, I’ve been taking baby steps, but this is very far removed from taking baby steps.
“Okay, I’ll live here with you,” I say, breaking what was becoming an uncomfortable silence. “But I’m paying half of the condo fees and utilities.”
A huge smile spreads across his face. “Awesome! That’s that, then. Let’s hit Target and turn this house into a home.”
“Can I at least get a tour first?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood.
James’s smile doesn’t fade. “How could I forget? And, as my way of saying thanks, you get first dibs on your room.”
“Ooh, I want the master bedroom,” I say, half-jokingly.
James laughs and raises an eyebrow. “Which one?”
Of course this place has two master bedrooms.
I punch James on the shoulder. “There’s one for you and one for me. Let’s start by checking the place out, then we can go to the store.”
Target is a sensory overload. The fluorescent lights and the overwhelming number of choices are making my head spin. On the plus side, it’s distracting me from overthinking the apartment.
I’m not sure it’s even overthinking; the apartment is huge. Like, seriously, a hot tub? In an apartment? That’s wild.
James is a blur. He’s in his element, bouncing around and grabbing far too many items. Suddenly, he stops and gestures at a blanket. “This is perfect for our future couch! And it’s big enough so we can share.”
I raise an eyebrow. “We’re roommates, not husbands, dude,” I point out, purposefully bro-ing up my voice.
“Aw, come on, Ethan. We’re practically married at this point. We’re furnishing our first home together,” James says.
I laugh, trying to ignore the blush creeping up my neck. He’s joking, obviously, but I hate how a part of me is reacting like it means something more. “Okay, babe,” I tease, “let’s not get carried away.”
James, however, seems to be on a roll. “We should go all out. Let’s get this matching bathrobe and slipper set!”
“Please don’t.”
Undeterred, he continues. “And we definitely need a California King for the bedroom. For us.”
I pretend to consider it for a moment. Then, I playfully punch his arm. “Yeah, yeah,” I say, trying to keep my composure. “Where are you gonna bring all your girls home to? The stairs?”
Because yes, our apartment has multiple floors.
James doesn’t miss a beat. “I don’t need girls when I’ve got this…” James wildly gestures at me, “… hot hunky jock to come home to every night!”
My traitorous mind sends a jolt of energy to my dick as James reaches over and squeezes my biceps, making an exaggerated moaning sound to top it off. I choke on a snort, my ears burning. The towel I was holding slips from my hands and falls to the floor with a soft bounce. Heat rises in my face and I desperately try to tamp it down.
“And I’m supposed to be the gay one,” I mutter, trying to sound nonchalant. My voice betrays me by coming out a lot higher than I’d hoped.
James just chuckles, completely unaware of what he’s doing to me. “Come on, man, this is just the kind of joking around I was talking about the other day.”
Even though he’s not being serious, my stomach still does a stupid little flip.
Rolling my eyes, I try to regain my composure. “Whatever,” I say, even though I’m secretly enjoying the banter more than I should.
I spot a clearance sign and do a quick pivot. There, nestled among a wall of pastel-colored fabric, is a buy-one-get-one-free deal on last year’s sheets.
James looks at me as I pick out a king-size sheet set, feigning disappointment. “No California King, huh?”
“In your dreams.”
“Yeah and you’ll be there too,” he jokes, turning his attention back to the blankets.
It’s so hard not to dwell on this. He’s just messing around. I’ve been on the receiving end of this same brand of straight guy jokes countless times, and I’m usually okay at keeping these feelings in check. But for some reason, it gets to me more when James does it, and I can’t tell him to stop without sounding weird.
He points back to the same blanket as before, his enthusiasm back in full force. “I swear, this one is perfect!”
“Do we really need something that big?”
James smiles back at me. “You vetoed the California King so I’m allowed to decorate the living room.”
I can already picture us lounging on a giant couch, watching a game, James sprawled out beside me?—
No, stop. Stop it.
The service door to our apartment finally slams shut after James brings the last massive box up.
“Is that everything?” I ask, exhausted.
“Yup,” he pants.
I survey our living room, now filled with boxes and bags and crates from our combined Target-Costco haul. James insisted on bringing both of our cars so we could get everything in one trip, and I still ended up needing to tie a bunch of stuff down to my truck bed.
At least we’ll both have beds to sleep in tonight. Plural beds. Separate. One for each of us. In different rooms. As things should be.
James, who’s apparently well-rested enough to soldier on, leaps up from the box and springs into action. “I’ll start building the dining table.”
I jolt back to full consciousness and head for one of the Target bags. “Sounds good. I’ll wash our bed stuff and then set up the kitchen.”
Unpacking and assembly are pretty efficient, and hours later, most of the boxes are gone. Even though it’s James’s place on paper, it already feels more like home than anywhere I’ve been since moving out of my parents’ house for college.
James, freshly showered, emerges from his room and collapses onto the spacious couch before immediately wrapping himself in way too many blankets.
“Dude, come test out the couch. You worked hard,” James says, nodding at the space next to him.
That’s exactly what I need. I walk over and drop into the amazingly firm cushion beside him. “Not bad,” I say. “This couch might be the best thing we bought.” The cushions compress slightly as I lean back, ready to relax.
James has other ideas. He jumps up, flinging all his blankets off, and throws one over my head.
“Gotcha!” he shouts, grabbing the edges of the blanket and pulling it tight around me.
“Hey!” I protest and blindly try to pull the fabric off my face, eventually managing to poke my head out. James fixes me with a smug look before leaning over and trapping me in a fleecy prison. My heart’s racing, and I’m not sure if it’s from being suffocated by blankets.
“Dude, we’re basically cuddling,” I say, trying to play it off casually.
James shrugs and tightens a blanket around both of us. “So? What’s a few cuddles between dudes?”
I snort. “This is more than a few cuddles.”
“Nah, this is the optimal amount. It’s math.”
“Alright, whatever you say.” I can’t counter that. This is totally normal, right? I just have to ignore the fact that the heat from his body is radiating through all this fabric, and if I don’t move too much, I might forget to think about it.
James reaches over me to grab a handful of remotes, dimming the lights with one of them and turning on the TV with another.
“Movie time,” he says, scrolling through options before landing on a random new release. The movie starts, casting a soft blue glow over the room.
He doesn’t last three minutes. James falls asleep on my shoulder before the opening credits finish, and I can’t make a break for my room without waking him up. But with every second that passes, my brain is screaming at me. Don’t overthink this. He’s just a guy who fell asleep. It’s not a big deal.
Still, I can’t pretend that I don’t notice how solid he feels leaning into me. Why does this stuff always happen between us?
I decide to stay and wait a couple minutes before moving, but it doesn’t take long before I’m closing my eyes too. James is still sleeping beside me as I drift off, the ridiculous number of blankets cocooning us both.