With Miles on the other side of the fence, we could have spent every night together, but the question of space hadn’t ever come up between us. We talked, but never felt pressured, and even though only a couple of weeks had passed since we’d gotten more serious…since he’d told me he loved me and I’d said it back…the routine had come easily.
Naturally.
Friday at twelve meant it was time for Colin and me to grab lunch at the deli down the street from the office. He’d followed through on taking me down there the week before, and I’d found him to be a little bit better at conversation as the afternoon went on. He was a little tense at first, but he quickly made it apparent he didn’t have any issues with my sexuality like I’d initially worried. He was just kind of an awkward guy, and it was really somewhat endearing. We’d agreed to make it a standing lunch date, though he’d again shied away from usage of the word date, which didn’t bother me at all.
I watched him step out of the elevator, shrugging his blazer up over his shoulders as he headed across the building lobby.
“You ready?” I asked, falling into step beside him and heading onto the street.
“I’ve needed this all day.”
“Stressed?”
“Just hungry.” He laughed. “I’ve been in meetings since I got here and didn’t even have time to eat breakfast.”
“That’s horrible.”
We walked the rest of the way—which wasn’t far—in silence, then settled in a booth near the front window. I grabbed a menu and he leaned back, arms resting on the edge of the table. He sat quietly while I scanned the menu, only speaking up when I dropped the laminated plastic onto the tabletop.
“How has your week been?” he asked.
The waitress came by then to leave waters and take our orders. I got the roast beef and cheddar, and Colin ordered the corned beef on rye. I’d never been a fan of rye bread. I found caraway seeds to be one of the most unenjoyable flavors in existence, but I wouldn’t judge him for his enjoyment of them.
“It’s gone quick. I’m seeing someone new and it’s all very much in the honeymoon phase of things.”
“Oh?” He arched a brow, interested but restrained.
“A man,” I answered his unspoken question, clenching my jaw when his shoulders tensed.
“That’s fine.”
“My neighbor,” I said.
“That’s probably less fine.” Colin gave a quiet laugh and reached for his water. “But to each his own.”
I sighed. “It is kind of begging for trouble, isn’t it?”
It had been easy to forget that Miles lived next door to me and ignore the implications that held when—or if—things went south between us. Even though we’d both jumped in with both feet, I don’t think either of us was delusional enough to imagine that a future for us could be anything like forever. But I wasn’t going to be in that corporate rental forever. The carpet was hell on my back, and I’d been in town long enough to start looking for my own place.
“Where are you living?”
“A horrible corporate rental on the wrong side of Brentwood.”
He snorted, rolling his eyes. Lines creased around his mouth, and the weight of Colin’s years disappeared, even if for a fleeting second. “Is there such a thing?”
“Trust me, there is.” I joined him with a laugh. “I mean, Brentwood is nice as far as I can tell, this just…it’s not what I’m used to. It doesn’t feel like home.”
“And where is home?” he asked.
“A small town on the East Coast called Brixton. There’s a lot more room between the houses than here.”
Brixton was a place I’d never imagined leaving, even while I watched my friends flee, one after another after another. It had always been comfortable and predictable; it had always been home. I wondered sometimes if I would have even entertained the offer to move to California if I hadn’t been involved with Rome. I knew that was a weird thing—to think about moving across the country while in a serious and committed relationship, but…
“LA can be pretty cramped.” Colin’s response brought me back to the present, and I shoved Rome out of my mind.
“Where do you live?”
The waitress brought our sandwiches, meat spilling out of the edges of the bread. The smell of the caraway in Colin’s bread assaulted my nose in a thousand different and equally horrible ways.
