"Couldn't stand it anymore." He touched his jaw. "Hope that's okay. That I used your—"
"It's fine."
We stared at each other. He looked younger without the beard, closer to the version of him I'd first met on that rink in New Mexico.
"I should go," he said.
"Yeah."
Neither of us moved.
"I don't know what this was," he said. "Last night. I don't know what it means."
"It doesn't have to mean anything."
"Right." He nodded, but his jaw was tight. "Right, okay."
He started gathering his clothes from the floor. His shirt was still damp. His jeans were worse. He pulled them on anyway, grimacing at the cold fabric.
I sat up. "Where are you staying?"
"I'm not. I flew in last night and I have a flight back at noon."
He'd flown across the country for one night, and now he was leaving.
"You can date other people," he said, still not looking at me. "If you want. I know I can't be what you need right now. So if you meet someone who can actually be with you in public, you should—"
"I don't want to."
He finally looked at me.
"I don't want to date other people," I said. "I don't want someone who can be with me in public. I want you."
"Joel—"
"That doesn't mean I'm waiting around forever. It doesn't mean everything's fine now. It just means I'm not interested in anyone else."
He crossed back to the bed and kissed me, his hand cupping my jaw.
"I'm going to figure it out," he said against my mouth. "I don't know how yet, but I'm going to."
"Okay."
He pulled back. His thumb traced my cheekbone one more time, the ring catching the morning light. Then he grabbed his shoes and walked out of my bedroom.
The front door opened and closed.
I lay back down and stared at the ceiling, the scent of him still on my sheets.
OCTOBER
Ukko had gotten fat.
Ro came through Derek's front door with the pug tucked under his arm like a football. The dog was wheezing with the particular indignation of having been subjected to air travel. His belly hung lower than before. His eyes bulged with even more dramatic despair.
"He's enormous," I said.
"He is perfect," Ro said, setting Ukko down on the tile. The dog stood there for a moment, disoriented, then waddled toward the kitchen like he owned the place. "Finnish air is good for him."
