Even so, Maxim liked the second place well enough to leave a deposit in cash and sign a lease. It was mostly furnished, since the previous owner had left suddenly for a job out of the country, so he could move right in on Monday. All he’d really need were some new sheets and towels, which he planned to buy this week.
Inside the dingy little office of the complex manager, I watched him sign the lease with a panicky sense of dread. He was really going. I’d be alone again. Alone and drifting and scared I’d never find this kind of connection with anyone else. My throat was so dry. I wanted to speak, but couldn’t. Wanted to tell him not to sign, not to go, not to leave me. I wanted him to need me, because who else would?
Are you fucking crazy? You can’t say any of those things! You shouldn’t even be feeling them. What the fuck is wrong with you? He wants to leave, and you need to let him live his life. He didn’t come here for you, asshole. Now pull yourself together!
Summoning every ounce of strength, I pressed my lips together to keep myself from saying anything stupid. I co-signed the lease. I pushed back at the feelings trying to surface, feelings of inevitable loss and loneliness. Feelings of warmth and affection. Feelings of what if and I wish and maybe we could. I drowned them without mercy at the bottom of my heart.
I couldn’t let myself hope. I just couldn’t.
“You like it, right?” Maxim asked as we walked back to the car.
“It’s fine.”
“I think it’s perfect. I know the carpet is pretty worn and the appliances aren’t new, but it’s good enough for me.”
It’s not. It’s not.
“And I’m glad you came, because I needed to hear the other side to make a good decision.”
“Yeah.”
“God, I can’t believe it.” He stopped walking in the middle of the sidewalk and shook his head. “I signed a lease on an apartment here. It doesn’t seem real!”
“Congratulations,” I said shortly.
“How far from the ocean are we?” He looked around as if he might be able to spot it.
“Maybe five, ten miles.”
“Really? That’s it?” He smiled, his cheeks flushing. “It’s probably no big deal to you, but I grew up so far from the water, the ocean has always been something exotic and incredible to me. As a kid, I used to dream about living on a coast, even before I knew what I wanted to do. And when I learned that there was a place near the ocean called City of Angels, and it was where stories were brought to life for people to watch all over the world, I knew that’s where I wanted to live. At the time, it seemed impossible.”
“Well, you did it.” I wanted so badly to be happy for him, but all I could think of was myself. God, I’m such an asshole.
“I did it. I’m doing it.”
By the time we got in the car, I’d made up my mind to say something supportive. “You should be really proud of yourself, Maxim. Plenty of people talk about dreams and never do anything about it.”
“Well, they should. Because it feels really good.” He looked at me. “Did you make an appointment to see that house?”
“Not yet.” I started the car, focusing my attention on the rearview mirror as I backed out.
“Derek,” he admonished. “Why not?”
I shrugged. “I was busy at work this week.” It was an excuse. The truth was that I’d broached the subject with my father, and he’d told me I was crazy, I’d lose my shirt, and I had no time for side projects, anyway. In fact, he wanted me to take on more responsibility in the next six months, not less.
“Call now.”
“I’m driving. And I don’t have the number.”
“Do it when you get home after dropping me at work.”
I gave him a look. “That apartment made you bossy.”
He grinned sheepishly. “Sorry. But I know you’d do such a great job on it. And I think it’s like your dream.”
“Maybe. I’ll give it some more thought.” But it was hard to think about anything that might happen after the next nine days. I didn’t want to do it.
When I pulled up to The Blind Pig, he looked at me. “What will you do tonight?”
“Nothing much.” Think about you. Feel sorry for myself. Wallow.
He opened the door but didn’t get out. “Is everything okay?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I don’t know.”
I refused to look at him. “It’s fine. Go to work.”
“Okay.” Another pause.
I gripped the steering wheel hard, staring straight ahead. Get the fuck out, Maxim, before I say something I shouldn’t.
“Well, thanks for the ride.”
“No problem.”
He got out, and I took off the moment the door was shut. In the rearview mirror, I could see him linger there on the sidewalk, watching me. I couldn’t get away quick enough, and I wished I could hit the accelerator hard. Fuck this traffic! Why can’t there be an open road when you need to blow off steam?
I decided to go for a run instead. I went home, changed clothes, grabbed my headphones and took off, my feet pounding the pavement in long, angry strides. I ran fast, too fast, sweat pouring and heart pumping and muscles aching. I ran like something was chasing me, like my life was in peril, like I could escape danger if only I could stay ahead of it.
But it wouldn’t let me be. It wouldn’t give up. It wouldn’t release me.
His arms and legs around me like vines. His head on my shoulder. His breath on my chest. His skin against mine.
After my five mile loop, I ended up in my backyard, hunched over, breathing hard, hands braced on my knees. I wasn’t at all sure I wouldn’t be sick or pass out. After a minute, I collapsed onto the grass and lay on my back, eyes closed.
Fuck. What was I doing? Trying to outrun a feeling? Trying to punish my body for what it had done? For what it wanted to do? Or was I trying to replace emotional anguish with physical duress? Maybe I thought I could distract myself from unwanted feelings by pushing my body so far it gave out. Then the ache would reside in my muscles, and not in my heart.
Because fuck my heart. It had no business here. This was about one thing, and one thing only—pleasure.
And its days were numbered.
I woke again to footsteps on the stairs. As if my body remembered what followed last time I’d heard the sound, my dick started to get hard, heat rushing my lower body. Would he come to me again? Maybe not, after the way I’d acted this afternoon. Maybe he thought I didn’t want him to. Or maybe he knew I did, and he wouldn’t just to punish me. Fuck that.
When I heard the shower come on, I decided not to wait. I got out of bed and shoved off my underwear, my erection springing free and twitching with impatience. The hallway was dark, the bathroom door closed.
I didn’t knock. Because fuck manners too.