“Yeah. But I need to send one quick email to Jim about that project we’re working on.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. Just some stuff that we got back from the client was kind of all over the place. They didn’t like some of the changes we had to make, so we’re trying to smooth things over. Work is work, you know? It’ll take me a second, but then I’ll be right back in your loving arms.”
He rolls off of me and grabs the computer, his ass cheeks shifting as he walks, stressing their impressive definition with the dents in the sides that are shaped just right.
I need to appreciate every moment I have with that ass while I still have it,I remind myself.
32
“Just a week left,” I tell Scott as he runs his roller down the side of the wall. “Can you believe it?”
We apply the orange coat I showed him at Home Depot—the one I told him about during our date at Dave & Buster’s.
I only meant to say that it’s amazing how time flew, but as he turns to me with a sort of sadness in his expression, the hard reality hits me like a brick: in just a week, I’m going to be back in Los Angeles without my Scott.
Back to real life and probably unable to get these incredible times we’ve shared out of my brain.
When he came home last week from dinner with his dad, it was so much fun messing around in bed together, and I got so swept up in our kiss that it made me hope—wish—that we could have something more. It’s why I made up the excuse of emailing work. I needed to get away from him for a minute, to clear my head. I’ve never been that way with someone before. But Scott, he’s changed me.
“It’s kind of amazing,” Scott says, glancing around the room Kate selected for Roger. “I mean, we took on a fucking extra project after all we did. As if we didn’t have enough to work on.”
I laugh. “Right?”
But this one’s been fun. We’ve spent some of our free time hitting up Toys “R” Us as well as a few thrift stores, finding furniture and toys to fill the room. Most of the stuff is packed in the hallway until we finish the paintjob. We’re not finished shopping for it, but we’ve enjoyed our little project together, picking out baby furniture and toys. Feels like everything we do together is fun.
“I can’t wait to see the fucking look on her face when Kate sees this,” I say.
We haven’t had to worry about her interrupting since I told her that we don’t need her for any of these final repairs. And the truth is, we don’t. Scott and I have made such an amazing team that we haven’t needed much outside assistance throughout the whole project. And we really haven’t asked for it since we’ve both been trying to make this last as long as we can—to spend just another moment in each other’s arms.
“I don't think I can tell you enough times how appreciative I am that you sacrificed so much time to help us with this,” I say to him.
“And I don't know how many times I have to tell you I was happy to do it. And Kate deserves this. I mean, the night after Sam left me, Jordan took me out to dinner on him, which you know is a rare fucking thing. And it meant a lot because I was feeling really lonely and vulnerable. He reminded me that I wasn’t on my own in any of it. And that helped. I’m hoping this will remind Kate of that, too.”
“It will. I know it. Speaking of Jordan, I figured he could take a little time to help out today.”
“He already had hiking plans with his friends today. I’m just glad he was able to have some fun. Between TAing and his thesis, he hasn’t had a lot of time off. Give him a break.”
“Maybe in his leg.”
Scott chuckles. “Whatever. You’d give him a kidney if he needed it.”
He leans down and collects some more paint on his roller before adding it to the wall.
Just a week left of this.
I don’t know how to feel about that. I’m relieved we’re finishing up, for Kate, at least. But I also don’t want to walk away from this part of my life with Scott. In the beginning when it was just fucking around, I wasn’t thinking about leaving being an issue. He was just a nice guy who I enjoyed having sex with. It was incredible sex, but that was all there was to it. That was all there was supposed to be to it. Now, I feel like time is being snatched from us. We’ve had just enough to leave me wanting more—to leave me feeling like there could be something special here. When I try to sort it all out in my head, the crazy thought keeps pushing forward that it wouldn’t be so bad to find a way to tele-work for a while longer. Maybe even relocate.
I have a convenient job for it, and considering Scott can work from pretty much anywhere, it wouldn’t be impossible for us to make some sort of arrangement. I don’t expect him to pick up his life and move for me, but we’re in the position to actually give what we have here a shot.
As much as that thought’s been crossing my mind, another one always chases it away: It’s too soon. We just started doing this. Scott didn’t sign up for a relationship, but even as he glances at me as he’s painting, I find myself appreciating the way those light brown bangs curl across his forehead and the way his biceps stretch the tee he wears.
But it’s more than his looks. More than the fucking.
We’ve shared something so meaningful, something I have to believe we both want to continue exploring.
“Put down that fucking roller,” I tell him.
