graduation. I knew he often escaped to the solitude of his office when his roommates didn’t
understand how important it was for him to graduate with high enough marks to help him land a good
job after graduation. I understood fully, which was why I rarely bothered him, and he ignored me
when I ducked into one of the side rooms for a nap in between jobs.
The door opened and Sam poked his head out. His hair was a mess, sticking up in every which
direction. He blinked a few times, rubbing his eyes. “Time is it?”
I pushed past him and into the office. “Jesus, Sam. Did you crash here again last night?”
Sam’s cheeks flushed pink. He shrugged. “Didn’t mean to. Just wanted to get a bit more work
done on some of the drawings to go along with the next phase of the renovation.”
Sam was cute, but he wasn’t always the sharpest tool in the shed. He had a brilliant mind, but
sometimes he failed to see what was right in front of him. He tended to ramble about needing to find a
good job after graduation without stopping to realize he already had one. He was a damn genius, but
he wouldn’t believe it. Not now, not until after the playroom opened and business started picking up.
Until then, he’d allow his insecurity to drown out all of the praise he received.
“Can I see what you’re working on?”
Sam closed his sketchbook and slid it into the top desk drawer. “Not yet. I don’t want to show
anyone else until after Jack sees. He might not agree with the next part just because he went along
with the playroom. This one is… Well, it’s different.”
“How so?” I pressed. Now my curiosity was piqued.
Sam started packing away the remaining sketchbooks and notebooks. I knew from one of our many
late-night conversations that he had one of each for any project he was working on. “Don’t press me
on this, Corey. Please?”
“You got it, buddy.” I wrapped an arm around his shoulder. He sank into my side so easily.
Sometimes, I worried he would get too attached and start wanting things I could never give him. He
had no clue that he and I wanted similar things. And that was my fault because I’d never opened up to
him. “What do you say we catch a quick nap before it’s time to get started? It’s going to be a long
night. Are you ready for it?”
All color drained from Sam’s already pale complexion. He swallowed hard, and I worried he
was about to be sick. When he spoke, his voice was so quiet I could barely hear him. “What if it’s a
flop?”
