As we approach my building, I look at Ash again and wonder what he might think of where I live.
There's underground parking, which is great because it offers discretion when I have visitors. Admittedly, that isn't often, and the parking mostly serves to keep my car off the street since I tend to walk to most places, even in the winter.
When I picked this place, I had just come out as gay, and the press had an unhealthy interest in my love life. Everyone wanted to get the scoop on the Blackwood Publishing heir's potential love interest. It broke more than a few relationships before they had a chance to blossom.
I love that my building is close enough to work that I can walk, but also has a way of keeping unwanted attention out. You can't take pictures through the window of the penthouse in a building that towers over the ones around it.
Fortunately, these days they only seem to care when I'm out socially, and mostly when someone tips them. The circus seems to revive whenever they catch wind of a new relationship, which is why bringing Ash here is a small, but calculated, risk since it’s unlikely the press are expecting me to step out in a new relationship any time soon.
My biggest fear, as I see the garage automatic doors start the downward motion to close, is that Ash will feel uncomfortable in my apartment.
His place was warm, cozy, and felt like a real home. My place is only warm in temperature. Despite my meek attempts at decorating the place, I know it's not a reflection of me. I hadn’t planned on staying here this long, and always dreamed of decorating a new place with someone else.
As I open the front door, it suddenly hits me that I like my apartment, but it still doesn’t feel like a home. Maybe it's time to start looking for a house outside the city.
"Wow, this place is big," Ash says, looking around the large living space. "That view." He looks at me as if asking for permission, and I nod.
"Make yourself at home, I'll go order some food. Pizza or Chinese?"
"Pizza," he says with a big smile. "I haven't had pizza in forever."
I leave him to explore the view from the balcony and go to the kitchen where I have the takeout menu from a local pizzeria that makes the best pizza I've ever had outside of Italy.
It's not until I open the door to the delivery guy that I realize I may have ordered five pizzas too many. I tip the guy and take the boxes to the living room where Ash is sitting on my couch in front of the fireplace. I stop to admire how comfortable he looks, sitting with his legs crossed.
When he sees me, his eyes open wide.
"That's a lot of pizza," he says.
"Yeah, I may have got a little over-excited. I wasn't sure what you like, and it's also been a while since I had pizza."
I lay out the boxes and read the labels aloud. Ash suddenly looks a little shy.
"Um, Xander, I haven't got enough money on me right now, but I can pay you for the food when you drop me off at home."
My stomach sinks when I remember Ash offered to pay for lunch, and now I've ordered more than he can afford. Fuck.
"Ash, can you do me a favor?"
"Okay."
"Will you let me pay for this in exchange for a pumpkin and some apples?"
"But that's nowhere near enough."
"Ash, your homegrown produce is far more valuable than this. Trust me. Besides, I want to practice your recipe some more."
He smiles, and I know the matter is settled when he reaches out for a slice of the pepperoni pizza.
"Hmm…this pizza is delicious. Oh my god."
I nod and hum my appreciation for the mushroom, ham, and olives pizza.
"Right? The owners of this place are first generation Italian immigrants, and I swear these are so authentic they bake their accent into the dough."
Ash laughs.
Half an hour later, a third of the pizzas are gone and we're both sitting back on the couch, rubbing our full bellies.
