“Or you could, you know, pick up your clothes,” Jesse said in unison with Dane’s, “You leave your clothes all over his apartment?”
“I was joking. I just got my clothes, remember?” But I did know me. I’d lived with me my whole life and all. “No, but seriously, I won’t leave my shit all over his place. I make him crazy enough when I cook.” Which was kind of cute.
“I’m sure he won’t mind,” Jesse said. “He already said you could stay with him for as long as you needed, right?”
I nodded. He had, but still, it made me feel like…I didn’t know. A loser. I didn’t ever want to seem like I was taking advantage of him. Eight weeks was longer than I’d expected. It probably was for him too.
“I’ll figure it out.” I waved off their concern.
“Five seconds ago you wanted this to be all about you, and now you want to change the subject, I can tell,” Jesse said.
Okay, so maybe I was a little finicky that way. “Lies!” I winked. “I was thinking of a new design I want to try for the Playground, this off-the-shoulder crop top, with some lace, like 1980s Madonna. I want to do lace gloves too. If it works, maybe I can make one for you too, and we can wear them one night for a dance-off or something?”
“Ooh! I like that idea!” Jesse replied, and the subject was officially changed, but I was still thinking about what I was going to do and about how much fabric had gotten ruined. It would be expensive to replace.
We finished our meal, which I paid for since they’d helped me pack and move things. They tried to refuse, but I’d sneaked my card to the waiter when they weren’t paying attention.
Walking into Clark’s building without him was always weird. I left my stuff in the car, because I didn’t want to look like I was really moving all my shit in.
Eddie was there. He was my favorite doorman.
“Good evening,” he said.
“What’s up, man? Any apartment drama?”
His brows pulled together as if he was confused.
“Oh, come on. You have to hear all sorts of juicy things around here. Who got caught having sex with the blinds open? Who’s cheating on who? Spill the deets!”
Eddie laughed. “A gentleman never tells.”
“Gentlemen are boring.” I winked, earning myself another chuckle.
“You’re fun. You’re nothing like Clark’s last boyfriend.”
Okay, so yeah, I super wanted to ask for more details there too, but I bit my tongue so I didn’t. “We’re just friends. He’s helping me out. But I am fun.”
We chatted for a few more minutes, and then I took the elevator up to Clark’s place. He usually didn’t get home until six or later, so I was surprised to find him in the kitchen, cooking. I wasn’t sure if it was better going home to him, or going home to his apartment like it was mine.
“Hey. I thought I’d make you dinner tonight,” he said with a smile, and I didn’t have it in me to say I’d just had a late lunch with Jesse and Dane.
“Yes, but can we also admit that I make you a little crazy in the kitchen?”
Clark’s eyes went wide, then darted away and he blushed. “Am I that obvious?”
“Sometimes you grit your teeth.”
“I do not! My dentist would have noticed and told me.”
I laughed, which made his cheeks darken more. “Oh, my fancy little Clark Kent. What am I going to do with you?” I went over and sat on the counter, then immediately hopped down.
“You don’t have to get down. You can sit up there.”
Still, I leaned against it instead. “Is it because I’m so messy while I cook?” Though I always did the dishes afterward.
“Maybe? I know it’s ridiculous. That’s why I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to be weird.”
“You’re not weird. It’s just who you are. I’ll try and do better,” I promised. “Or…well, you might not have to worry about it for much longer.”
He adjusted his apron. Why was it so cute that he was wearing an apron? I never wore one when I cooked, and hadn’t ever known anyone who did.
“Your apartment will be ready soon?”
“No, six-to-eight weeks. I went there with Jesse and Dane today. We put some things in storage, and I have a car full too, but…that’s a long time. I can’t take up space and dirty your kitchen for that long.”
“No, no. I said you could stay as long as you needed. I meant that.”
“I feel bad.”
“Why? The kitchen thing? That’s my quirk.”
“No, because we just met again, and now I’m like, Oh, hey, take care of me! It’s one thing to joke about being your rent boy, another to be mooching off you for two months.”
“You wouldn’t be mooching off me. It’s…nice to have someone around, even if you do get food on the stove hood when you cook. How does it get up there?”
“Shut up!” I rolled my eyes, but I was smiling. “I don’t know how it gets up there. Food is tricky sometimes.”
“Hmm, I’ve never heard that before.”
“Your friends are more boring than me.”
We both laughed again, and then he said, “Really, though, two months isn’t that long, Skylar. We can make it work.”
I wanted to, and not just because I didn’t want to stay with Mom. I crossed my arms. “Under two conditions.” When he nodded, I said, “First, you have to let me pay something, like the food or the electric bill or such.”
He opened his mouth, and I knew he was going to argue, but when I cocked a brow, Clark said, “Fine, deal. What’s the second?”
“You have to come to the Playground one night. It doesn’t have to be tomorrow or anything, but sometime soon.” I couldn’t really say why I wanted him to come, but for some reason, I did.
“With you?”
“It can be with me or when I’m working. Either one.” I did want him to see me dance, though.
“Okay, deal.” Clark held out his hand. I almost teased him about it, but instead we shook on it.
“How long until dinner is ready?” It smelled like a casserole of some kind. “Do I have time to get my stuff out of the car?”
“Probably ten minutes. Let’s eat first, and then I’ll help you get your stuff. And your friends, you could have invited them in, ya know? Or you could have them over sometime, if you want. You should feel comfortable where you live.”
I nodded. What I didn’t say was that I did feel comfortable with him. Always had.
10
Clark
Now that Skylar had agreed to stay here, it somehow made me feel more settled. The why of it didn’t always make sense, but it was mostly because I felt I was helping him through a hard time. The other part was because I liked having him around, even if he was pretty disorganized and messy. But that was something I needed to work on—being less uptight about having things in order. It wasn’t like his clutter was hurting anyone, and I could see he was trying, which made me feel guilty. He certainly didn’t need my bullshit, not while he was struggling through something. And definitely not while we were trying to get to know each other again.