“It’s not me, it’s Glenn. One of his military buddies is in town and he needs a place to crash. I told them it’s cool for him to stay downstairs.Thatokay?”
“I guess. If he doesn’t mindthemess.”
Downstairswas the apartment below us. Pete and I had bought it a year ago when a collection of my reject paintings had sold for a sum of money that made my stomach turn. The previous owners had left it practically derelict, and we hadn’t had the time to do much about it. Luckily, our tenant, a doctor buddy of Pete’s from the hospital, didn’t seem to care. Glenn was ex-army and spent most of his time working or asleep on the bare floorboards with just a rolled up blanket for apillow.
“I figured you’d say that. Could you let him in? Glenn’s gonna be tied up here forhours.”
“Sure. When’s hecoming?”
“He left a few minutes ago. He’s got blond hair and— Shit, Igottago.”
Pete hung up, leaving me to scramble around for clothes and shuffle downstairs to meet Glenn’s blond friend. The hospital was a couple of blocks away, so I was half-convinced I’d walk right into him, but outside our converted old house, there was no one around, save the mailman and the fitness fanatic who lived in the building opposite. I watched her jog across the street and recalled Pete’s face the first time he’d seen her doing lunges in her head-to-toe orange Lycra. For months he’d believed Joe had madeherup.
“Ash?”
I jumped. I was usually hyperaware of people at my back, but I spun around to find a tall, blond man had come up on me. The dude was hot, but his crooked grin and keen green eyes were lost on me. Instead, my gaze zeroed in on the ink covering his forearm. It was dark and intricate and unlike anything I’d seen for a while. “Is that SoutheastAsianink?”
“Indonesian. How didyouknow?”
“I worked with a Malaysian dude last year. That’s near Indonesia, isn’t it?” Geography wasn’t my strong point. I’d only left American soil a handful of times, and if Glenn’s buddy was anything like him, he’d probably been all over theworld.
“Just above.” The blond guy eyed me. “So… you are Ash,right?”
“What? Fuck, yeah. Sorry.” I held out my hand. For the first time, I noticed a brown-and-white spaniel sitting by the guy’s feet. “Who’sthis?”
“Desta, and I’m Jed. Don’t worry if he ignores you, though. He’s working. He’ll jump all over you when I take hisharnessoff.”
I read the alert notice on the dog’s harness: Medical Assistance Dog. Damn. The guy—Jed—didn’t seem to have a visible disability, but what did I know? “Come inside. I’ll show you Glenn’splace.”
Jed followed me into the building and waited while I opened the door to the downstairs apartment. I shut it behind us and looked around at the dust and abandoned artwork. “It’s a bit of a mess. Glenn seems to like it that way, but there’s a bed in the backroom youcanuse.”
“Couchisfine.”
Yep, the dude sounded like Glenn, all right. “Fair enough. Do you need a bed for Desta? My sister probably has a spare one.” As if on cue, Jed released the dog from his harness, and a brown-and-white bundle of fur and sloppy tongue blurred across the open plan apartment and barreled intome. “Whoa!”
Jed chuckled. “Sorry.”
I wrestled with the dog until he decided he’d licked me enough. “S’okay. I like dogs. I’d have one if Pete wouldletme.”
“Pete’s yourpartner?”
“Uh… yeah.” Even though Pete had been out at work for years now, it still felt weird to say it to people I didn’t know. “Yes,heis.”
Jed smiled, and I wondered how old he was. Glenn was in his forties, but Jed didn’t look much olderthanPete.
“Is thisyourwork?”
I followed Jed’s gaze to a large canvas leaning against the far wall. It was a spray-painted scene I’d witnessed in Greece last year when I’d traveled to Europe with Danni. Being so far from home—from Pete—had scared the crap out of me, but perversely, when the riots had hit Athens, I’d found myself watching, fascinated, from the safety of our hotel room. The darkly vibrant canvas had been the result, but as there was little of my work I liked enough to hang on the walls of my own apartment, I’d yet to find anywhere to put it. “Yeah, that’s oneofmine.”
Jed looked around again. His attention fell on a framed photograph of some chalk art I’d done outside Wrigley Field. “My brother has a print of that in his kitchen. His wife gave it to him forChristmas.”
I didn’t know quite what to say to that. The street art I did was just for fun. I never knew when the next one was coming until I found myself sneaking out of bed in the dead of night and scaling security fences.Andno one was supposed to know it was me. I was a little perturbed Jed had figured it out with a cursory glance at aphotograph. “Um…”
Jed came to my rescue and dumped his bag on the couch. “Thanks for letting me in. Glenn and Pete lookedslammed.”
“They always are. How long are you intownfor?”
“A few days, maybe a week.” Jed drifted to the window and stared out at the tree-lined street. “I wasn’t sure I was coming until Igothere.”
