We rode up in the creaky elevator that sounded slightly less creaky. “Reg, what are we doing? This is our soft open and everyone will be—”
“I just need you to look at this, just for a bit.”
We exited on the top floor, and he stopped in front of a door to enter a key code. “The code is the last four of your phone number.”
He opened the door and ushered me in with a flourish. Inside was a modest but modern living space with an open-plan kitchen and large windows. A leather couch and love seat formed an L-shape in front of a flat-screen TV. In the far corner, Archimedes slept on an elevated cat bed.
“Wow. Pretty slick.” I whistled. “I know you were working on a project, but I thought it was an art studio or something. So this is… for you?”
“No.” Regge shook his head. “This is our place, if you want it.” He hesitated only a second. “Please want it. Here.” He took my hand, dragging me down a short hallway. “Bathroom,” he said, indicating an open door to a small but newly tiled room. He moved on to a small bedroom with a full bed and dresser. “This is a guest room for when Marjorie comes to visit.”
At the end of the hall was the master bedroom. A king-size bed with a sage-green duvet dominated the room, two endtables and matching lamps on either side. A corner bookcase held only a handful of Regge’s books but lots of framed photographs: the gang at Pinkie’s, Abraham smiling behind the bar, Izzy and Theo. Another photo of myself and Regge at a party, arms slung around each other.
“You’ve collected quite a family.”
“I have, thanks to you. And I found this.” He pulled out a book and opened it. Inside the hollowed-out pages was the necromancer’s tablet nestled in a velvet cloth.
“Where?”
“Inside one of the walls we tore down. It seems harmless, but I think it has a connection with our energy stone downstairs.” He replaced the book on the shelf and surveyed the room. “I didn’t want to do too much to this room.” He ducked his head slightly. “I figured you’d have ideas.”
“Like my David Bowie poster—that’s vintage, you know. And my gaming consoles and the etched beer glasses.”
His fingers against my lips stopped me.
“Glasses will go in the kitchen, gaming consoles in the living room. Mr. Bowie can be here.” He gestured to a blank wall. “In here is another bathroom. It’s quite small but—”
“Not as small as mine.” I chuckled as I gazed through the door. “It’s nice. No. It’s perfect. So this was what you were doing? Your secret project?”
“Don’t misunderstand me. I love the little apartment at Izzy’s. It was kind of my first home. I have fond memories of the place. But I figured we’d be spending the majority of our time here, at least in the beginning, making sure everything runs okay and helping with the guests and residents. And the drive over here is not the best during the hour of fast stopping and slow driving.”
“Rush hour?”
“Right. But I didn’t want to live in a hotel room, and there was a little extra money in the budget so—”
“How much did this cost, Regge? We have a loan to pay back. How—”
“Don’t worry. I sat down with Izzy, and we worked out the payments and budget. She taught me to use spreadsheets on the computer.”
“Holy shit, you learned spreadsheets.”
Regge beamed. “It maps out all our expenses and possible income. Izzy says I am a natural at excelling.”
“It’s just Excel, not excelling. You are good with a lot of things, babe.” I grinned at him.
“Please tell Theo that. He always said I was an inattentive student.” He shrugged. “Perhaps I was. So will you come and live here with me? Be the sun to my morning, the moon to my stars, and all that poetic rabble?”
I stepped into his space, circling my arms around him. “I will happily be your sun and moon, rabble notwithstanding. I can’t imagine not waking up next to you every morning.” Sinking down on the bed, I patted the space beside me. Regge gave one of his more genuine smiles before joining me, wrapping me up in his arms.
“I never could have dreamed this. A family, a business of my own, a boyfriend that I can freely be with.”
“You were happy with Charlie.” I cringed inwardly. Why did I do that? When everything was perfect and right and good, why did I always bring up the past? A painful past at that. I batted away my insecurities. Regge had said I was his everything. I believed him. We were happy.
Regge pulled me closer to him. “Dr. Bolton has made me realize that while Charlie was important in my life, helping me recover from trauma, enabling me to explore my sexuality in a safe manner, he might not have been the love of my life, likeI’d once thought. It’s hard to see the love of your life when you don’t love yourself. Because you don’t think you deserve such a person.”
“And you do. You deserve it so, so much.”
“I may not quite love myself yet, but I’m more likable than I was. And I did love Charlie, but we were both young. Each in our own ways.”
