Chapter 4 #2
I’ve enjoyed more than my fair share of random hookups with other locals and tourists over the years, and it’s not that I’m not horny tonight, I just…
I don’t know. I turn my attention back to watching Yuri.
He shakes a martini shaker, and I notice again that it looks like he’s put on a bit of muscle since I saw him last. His biceps have some definition, and his ass is filling out those shorts in a whole new way.
He turns around and catches me staring, and I don’t try to hide it.
Another blush creeps into his cheeks and I hold his gaze as I finish off my beer.
I’ve never been that big on dwelling on the past and shit, but it’s hard not to when it’s staring me right in the face like this.
It’s hard not to remember all the sleepless nights I spent in his bed and the way he made me feel seen and understood like no one else ever had.
Even now, he’s the only one. The rest of it’s still there too though, knowing that he needed more than I’d ever be able to give him, watching him go and feeling like I’d never be able to take a deep breath again with how much it ached.
Fuck.
I nudge my empty glass aside and slide off my stool.
“Oh, are you leaving?” Yuri asks, coming over and picking up my glass. “I can get you another one.”
“Uh…” I glance at the door and then back at him. “I’m just gonna step out and get some air for a minute, I’ll be back.”
I don’t know if I will, but I’m sure he’ll be busy enough until the bar closes that he won’t notice anyway.
My ears ring with the sudden silence as soon as I step outside and sit down on the curb, fishing my lighter out of my pocket and pulling the joint from behind my ear.
I light it, drag in a lungful of sweet smoke that burns my throat in a comforting, familiar way, and then I tilt my head back and look up at the stars.
It’s uncomplicated and grounding. It would be easy to get myself all tangled up in memories or waste my time thinking about all the shit that hasn’t happened yet but could.
Will anything happen between me and Yuri?
Will he leave at the end of the season or stay for another?
Will he find a soulmate here like everyone else seems to and live happily ever after without me?
See? It’s easy to chase my tail with what-ifs and might-bes. But none of it is real. The past is a ghost, and the future is only ever a guess. This moment, right now, it’s all that actually exists. I take another toke and let it out slowly, sinking into the peaceful buzz.
The door opens behind me. I hear the din of the bar for a few seconds again before it closes, and then someone sits down next to me.
Yuri.
“Five-minute break,” he says. “Hope you don’t mind.”
“It’s a free sidewalk, man.” I grin and offer him the joint.
He takes it without hesitation and slips it between his lips, pursing them as he inhales, then coughing harshly.
“Shit, I haven’t smoked in a long time,” he confesses, hacking for a second then taking another toke before handing it back to me.
“About eight years?”
“Sounds about right,” he rasps, and we trade a quick smile. “You know what I was thinking about the other day?”
I shake my head and wait for his answer. I don’t think I could guess if my life depended on it. With Yuri it could be anything from a random memory to the mysteries of the universe to some off-the-wall fan theory about a movie that came out twenty years ago.
“Those mice in my apartment,” he says.
I drag in another lungful of smoke, trying to remember what he’s talking about, and then it hits me and I laugh. “You wanted to call an exterminator.”
“And you wouldn’t let me. You made us get those humane traps and drive them an hour outside the city until we found a field that looked nice and didn’t have too many trees so there wouldn’t be a lot of birds.”
“Well, it would have been depressing as fuck to save their lives just to have them get eaten by an owl within five minutes of releasing them,” I point out.
Yuri chuckles again and reaches for the joint, his fingers brushing mine as he takes it from between my fingers.
“They would have deserved it for all the shit they left all over my kitchen.” He shudders at the memory.
“What made you think of that?” I ask, stubbing out the joint when he hands it back and tucking the remainder behind my ear again.
“There was a scratching noise in the middle of the night, and I thought I might have mice. It turns out it was the wind making a bush scratch my window. I need to trim it back, but I wanted to make sure that a little light landscaping would be okay with Devil before I did anything.”
“If you need any gardening tools, just let me know.”
“Oh, I wasn’t really planning to garden.
Although…” He trails off for a second and I watch the expressions flicker across his face.
He’s relaxed now after a couple of hits, the blush gone from his cheeks and his body swaying just the tiniest bit in an imaginary breeze.
“Yeah, maybe. I used to love getting my hands dirty in my mom’s garden growing up.
That could be nice. I only asked Devil about trimming a bush though, I should make sure—”
“Dude.” I bump my shoulder against his. “Nobody gives a shit. As long as you don’t burn the house down, Devil won’t care. Plant some flowers or some tomatoes or some weed if you want.”
“I hear you’ve got the weed covered, so I think I’ll have to find my own signature plant,” he teases.
“I’m not afraid of a little competition.”
“No? I think you forget how good I was at testing soil acidity and creating the right balance of nutrients in my fertilizers.”
I did forget that, actually, but it doesn’t change anything. If it makes him smile like that, he should grow whatever he wants. We both lean in just a little and somehow my hand ends up on his thigh, resting there like it hasn’t been eight years since the last time I touched him.
“Nothing was making me happy anymore.”
I frown. Did I miss part of the conversation?
“You asked why I was here,” he says, reminding me of the conversation we had a couple of weeks ago when he first arrived.
“That’s why. I wasn’t happy and I thought that if nothing I normally do was helping, then I needed to do something abnormal.
Gardening is a good idea. It always used to make me happy. ”
“Glad I could help. And if you need any other suggestions, I think I might be able to remember a few other things that used to make you happy.” I smirk, sliding my hand half an inch higher, feeling the warmth of his body even through the fabric of his shorts.
The blush on his cheeks darkens a little more and he sways towards me.
“Are you flirting with me or is it the weed going to my head?” he asks, his eyes dropping to my lips for a few seconds before returning to mine.
I wasn’t thinking that hard about it, but yeah, I think I was flirting.
If I don’t let myself worry about the past or the future, and right now is all there is, then I can’t think of any good reason not to flirt with him, not to lean in another inch and slide my hand a little higher on his thigh.
Yuri leans in too, the smell of sweat and weed and a hint of the peppermint soap he always loved lingering in the few inches of space between us.
The door swings open again and Yuri scrambles back.
“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt anything, but it’s been, like, fifteen minutes, and I could really use a hand,” Bird says.
“Shit, sorry, I must have lost track of time.” Yuri gets to his feet and brushes his hands off on his apron, then shoots me a quick smile. “Are you…?”
“Nah, I think I’m going to head home. I’ll catch you around though.”
Yuri licks his lips and I track the motion with my eyes, biting back a groan and wishing Bird had waited just another minute.
“Okay, yeah, I’ll catch you around.” He hurries inside.