Chapter 24
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
Ghost
Standing in the middle of my apartment, a husband and father of three now, I came to a realization.
This place wasn’t good enough.
“This place is huge!” Rett exclaimed as he slowly turned in a circle in the center of my loft, that purple backpack strapped to his back. I had to admit it looked even cuter than I imagined.
Know what wasn’t cute?
When I told him to pack his stuff and he came out with that one purple backpack and a plastic bag they give you at the bodegas around here. And it had a hole in it. The second he put his laptop in it, the hole tripled in size and the computer nearly fell onto his foot.
It was so ridiculous that I looked around to see if I was being punked. Alas, no cameras were filming, so this apparently wasn’t a prank show but good ol’ reality.
After picking up his laptop, he’d had the absolute audacity to look at me and ask, “Do you have room for my desk?”
“You don’t have a desk,” I’d pointed out.
“It’s right there!” he’d said, pointing at some decrepit heap of bent metal.
“That’s a desk?” I was skeptical. “It has three legs.”
“It’s a little wobbly. I can duct tape it.”
Was he for real? “That thing clearly has the structural integrity of a wet cracker!”
He gasped. “I use it for work.”
“Pretty sure it just retired.” More like gave up on life, but I kept that thought to myself.
“How about my bean bag?” He’d said, pointing to that flea-ridden burlap nightmare across the room.
“Uhhh, I think I have all the furniture we need. If we find a place, we can come back for it.” I straight lied. I’d set it on fire first.
“You hate it, don’t you?” he deadpanned.
“Ahhh…” I stalled. Listen, I couldn’t think of one nice thing to say. “Someone probably died on it.”
“I wonder if that’s why it was free,” Rett murmured.
Sweet Jesus.
“So this is where you live, huh?” Rett said, pulling me back to the present. “I always wondered.”
He was standing across the room, staring out the wall of large, black-framed windows. The loft was industrial-style with exposed brick and large silver ductwork running across the ceiling.
I tried and failed miserably to ignore how small and out of place he looked standing there with his hands braced on the ledge of the brick, which came up to his chest, as he leaned forward to look out at the other industrial-style buildings nearby.
I didn’t have a fancy view like Kieran. My loft was smaller and less decorated. I never felt the need to make a place homey. What was the point? All I did was sleep and eat here. I did have a nice TV, though, as every hockey fan should.
Made me wonder. “You like hockey?”
He turned from the window, sunlight backlighting him so he looked like just a silhouette. Even the shape of him is beautiful.
“I’m not really into sports,” he replied. The second the words left his lips, panic twisted his features. “I mean, I might. I’ve never had the chance to watch it. But if you like hockey, I’m sure I’ll like it too.”
Oh, there would be none of that.
Crossing the room, I lifted him off his feet. The way his arms and legs automatically wrapped around me settled something inside me that I’d thought would be unsettled forever.
“I think now’s a good time to let you in on the house rules.”
“You have house rules?”
After seeing his cute little ass in my loft? You bet your britches I had rules.
“Are these sacred too?” Rett asked, and it brought me back to the cuddling rules I’d given him.
Those were to charm him. These right here? They were serious.
“Very.” I agreed.
He seemed a little cautious, but his hands tightened around me. I, too, understood the battle between the head and the heart.
“What are they?” he asked.
“Rule one…” I began. “I’ll be the bug guy.”
“The what?”
“You know, if you find a spider and scream, I’ll come kill it. Boyfriend shit.”
Pip gasped. “Why would you kill an innocent spider?”
“Because it scared you,” I said as though it were obvious. Because it was.
“You can’t kill things for scaring me. That’s stupid. Plus, I’m not scared of spiders. They contribute to the ecosystem by being part of the food web.”
“Yes, they make large webs. Another reason to kill—”
“No. You can’t kill spiders. Any bugs. You have to catch them in a cup and put them outside.”
I glowered. “Did you just counter my house rule with one of your own?”
Hasn’t even unpacked and already he’s bossin’ me.
He gave me a look. A look that said not agreeing would be an act of war. “No killing spiders, Hiro.”
For someone dating a hitman, he sure seemed to have a problem with murder.
“Fine. I’ll pardon the spiders.” I compromised. More like collapsed under extreme bullying, but that was embarrassing, so compromise it was. “Rule two: If the smoke alarm goes off when I’m cooking, you accept that I’m doing my best.”
He shrugged. “Sure. I like cereal.”
Like hell he’d be living off cereal.
“Rule three: If you fall asleep watching a movie, I will continue watching it. No movie mercy here.”
Rett squinted. “Will you rewatch it with me the next day?”
“I feel like I’m negotiating with a tiny terrorist,” I bemoaned. Then, “Deal.”
“And rule five?” Rett asked.
“We listen, and we don’t judge. Unless you eat sardines. Then I’m judging.”
He wrinkled his nose. “Ew.”
I couldn’t help it. I kissed his crinkled face. Delicious.
“Rule six—”
He interrupted. “How many house rules are there?”
“Rule six: New rules can be added at any given moment. You already agreed to them all by coming home with me.”
“This seems like a scam.”
“I can’t believe you’d accuse me of fraud before hearing the entire presentation.”
His eyes rolled. “Okay. Go on.”
“Rule seven: You can’t tell anyone what I do for a living. Ever.”
His face sobered, and he nodded. “Should I tell people you’re in real estate?”
“What people are you going to be talking to?” I demanded.
“Okay, I’ll just pretend I’m single.”
“The hell you will!” I roared. “Rule eight: I don’t share. Ever.”
“I don’t either,” he deadpanned.
“Fine. I’ll go buy a building or something so you can say I’m in real estate.”
“What kind of building?” he asked, interest gleaming in his stormy eyes.
Fuck if I knew. “You got any ideas?”
“Something with books,” he whispered, almost like he was wishing.
I made a sound. “My little pipgeek.”
He stuck out his tongue. “Liking books does not make me a geek.”
“What do you like to read about?”
His eyes brightened. “Oh, everything. I spend a lot of time in the public library since it’s free, quiet, and warm. I read all kinds of things. My favorite, though, is web comics.”
“Web comics about what?”
“Action, adventure…” He peeked up through shy lashes. “Romance.”
“Oooh, you like them dirty words.” Now we were talking. “This I can support.”
He nodded. “I do, but I don’t make it to those parts very often.”
“Why not?” I asked, pressing him against the wall so I could reach into my sweats and pull out the half-eaten pack of nuts from earlier.
Damn cabby took off with my other snacks.
Tommy probably climbed in the back crying and told him to drive.
Probably peed his pants too when he got a load of his driving. Good.
“What are you doing?” Rett asked.
“Getting my snacks.”
“You could put me down.”
“Why would I do that?” I wondered, popping in a couple cashews and chewing loud.
“Where did you get those?”
“At the bodega where I got your hugs,” I told him and ate another. “One thing about me, Pip, is I’m a snacker.” Leaning in so my lips could graze his, I whispered, “I’m always hungry.”
“You didn’t eat snacks before.”
“That’s because I smoked.”
“You really quit because I told you to?”
“Kicked one addiction just to replace it with another,” I murmured.
“Nuts?”
My eyes snapped up. “You.”
His pupils dilated, but then he looked away. “What happens when you kick that addiction too?”
I studied his profile as he focused on the wall across the room. Before I met him, I never imagined I’d love someone. Now I couldn’t imagine not loving him. This was the power of Pip.
Did that make him my own personal superhero?
“That reminds me. I didn’t tell you the last house rule.”
“What is it?” he asked, still looking away.
Salt from my fingers smeared his jaw when I grasped his narrow chin to pull his face around. “Rule nine: You get to be yourself here. If you don’t like something, you don’t like it. I want you exactly as you are, and I won’t ever change my mind. No matter what.”
“No matter what,” he echoed, tone wistful.
“Mm, I like me some opposites attract. Keeps me on my toes,” I joked because, oh, it was getting hard to breathe.
My lungs just didn’t work right when he looked at me like that.
“What if you change your mind?” He worried again, the voice of his trauma.
“I already did.”
His eyes lifted at the same moment his chest seemed to fall. “W-what?”
“I walked away two years ago and regretted it every day since. I’m no good for you, Pip, but I’m the one you came back to. And now we’re ride-or-die.”
The bag of nuts crinkled between us when he crushed against me, fitting our lips in a desperate kiss. He was uncoordinated and sloppy, but he more than made up for it with enthusiasm.
Anchoring us together, I took over, and he surrendered with a whine.
The kiss was salty with a hint of sweet, the cashews leaving behind a creamy feel.
Anchoring my grip on the back of his neck, I licked deeper and carried him through the loft toward the bedroom.
Our mouths never lifted as if we’d never get another chance.
I guess, in a way, we wouldn’t. This moment would never come again, so I had to brand him as mine right then and there. I wanted to brand him so good that, every moment that came after, he would know exactly where he belonged.
The bedroom was dim because the windows were shaded, but I went past the bed and into the all-brick bathroom with a glassed-in concrete shower.
As I moved, the lights under the floating cabinets illuminated, warming the room with a glow.
Tongue still tangled with his, I leaned into the glass enclosure to turn on the water.