Chapter 8 Adam #2
“This is great,” Skylar said with an enthusiasm that was outsized for what was on his plate. But the rate he was shoveling it into his mouth reassured Adam that his cooking wasn’t repulsive.
They were quiet while they ate, and Adam realized he couldn’t remember the last time he had someone in his apartment who wasn’t Grace or her boyfriend, Michael.
The constant push and pull between wanting whatever Skylar was offering him and trying to defend against the hurt he knew would come with it was giving him a workout.
His phone buzzed in his pocket again. Willa this time.
“Hey, I’m sorry, this is a real issue, not a fake one. I promise,” Willa said when he answered.
“Not making me feel like you have a real problem.”
“The POS machine is down. We can’t get it back up and can’t run cards.”
“Okay, I’ll be right down.” Adam ended the call and looked up at Skylar, who was almost done with his food. “I’m sorry. I’ve gotta go fix something.”
“Do you need me to leave?” he asked.
“Nah. It should only take ten minutes. Hopefully.”
Skylar gave him a thumbs-up, mouth full of food, and Adam slipped his shoes back on to go downstairs.
“It isn’t connecting to the internet,” Willa said.
“Fuck,” Adam said. The customer Willa was trying to ring up was a regular. “Tonight’s on us, Ed. Sorry about this.”
“No, no, no,” Ed said, too Midwestern to let someone be nice to him. He adjusted his trucker cap, a toothpick sticking out of the corner of his mouth. He pulled a twenty out of his wallet. “It’s not enough to cover the whole tab, but you can add the rest to my bill next time.”
“Thanks, man. We’ll count this as good.”
“Fine. I’ll let you this time,” Ed said. There was no social interaction in Iowa that was efficient or succinct. He slipped his beat-up leather wallet back into the pocket of his Levi’s. “See ya tomorrow.”
“Sorry,” Willa told Adam. She was a tall wisp of a woman with a white-blonde bob. She was always on time and liked to create her own cocktail concoctions. Unlike Adam, she seemed to genuinely enjoy bartending.
“I will never be angry with you for anything, especially not technical difficulties. Let’s see what we can do.”
It took a few rounds of rebooting the system before Adam had to call the support line. Finally, they did a hard restart to reconnect to the internet, and Willa was able to process transactions again.
“Thanks, Adam. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She gestured vaguely above them, to where Skylar was currently twiddling his thumbs. Fuck. It had been a half an hour since he left Skylar at the kitchen table in his apartment alone.
“You’re not interrupting anything,” he lied. “Thanks for calling me. You always can.”
He left Willa and Tanner to get back to it and headed home.
He didn’t know what he expected to walk back into, but it wasn’t Skylar asleep on his couch.
The couch was short for him, and he had his knees folded up, one of Adam’s throw pillows in his arms. His light brown hair fell over his eyes, and Adam let himself watch him sleep for a few moments.
It was strange to see Skylar with his mouth closed.
It was usually wide open, whether smiling or talking.
Adam quietly took his shoes off and went to clean up dinner while Skylar napped. He needed it. He’d had a big night with big feelings. But when Adam poked his head into the kitchen, the dishes were already done, stacked on a towel to dry next to the sink.
He wanted to let Skylar sleep, but it was late, and Adam didn’t know if Skylar needed to wake up for anything specific in the morning.
He crouched next to Skylar and brushed his hair off his forehead. Skylar blinked his eyes open, the pink pout of his mouth breaking into a familiar smile when he saw Adam.
“Hey,” Adam whispered. He combed his fingers through Skylar’s hair.
“Not to sound like my mom or anything, but I promise I was just resting my eyes.”
“It took longer than I expected to fix the register.”
“That’s okay. I did the dishes.”
“Thank you.”
Skylar’s eyes drifted shut again as Adam played with his hair. “That feels nice. It’s been ages since someone has played with my hair.”
Skylar was half asleep, his guard down, and the intimacy of the confession cut through Adam.
“Same,” Adam said. He spent so much time worrying about the bar, Grace, and making sure his employees still had jobs that he hadn’t been putting himself on his priority list.
Skylar touched his cheek, his warm fingertips sending a spark of energy through his body, an echo of the climbing gym parking lot and the kiss Adam had rebuffed.
“Do you need to go home? I can walk you.”
Skylar sighed. “I don’t want to go home.”
“You can stay if you’d like. Sleep on the couch. I have some blankets I can give you.”
Skylar nodded.
“Will you hang out with me for a while?”
Adam nodded, and they got ready for bed in Adam’s small bathroom. Skylar stretched out on the couch as best he could, legs hanging off the end. Adam pulled a blanket over him, then sat on the floor in front of him and flipped the TV on.
Adam picked Antiques Roadshow, and Skylar talked through the first ten minutes of the show until his energy was completely depleted, eyes finally closing.
Adam snuck away, flipping the lights off in the living room and kitchen before he tucked himself into bed.
As an introvert, he was fine with the long stretches of alone time that his life was designed around.
Skylar was the exact opposite, unwilling to be alone with his thoughts for a single second, if he didn’t have to be.
It had been years since Adam had fallen asleep under the same roof as someone else. It was nice.