I try to go back to my painting. Ireallydo. It’s just now, knowing that Jesse’s on his way here and that he’s worried about me has my hands shaking again as I pick back up my paintbrush.
The scene I’m working on is based off of one of the shots I snapped the day we went downtown, with the mountains out across the bay. Except, instead of afternoon light, I’ve made the scene sunset, with the sky that blazing pink that’s the exact shade of Jesse’s blushes, fading up to grey-blue above. Same as his eyes. Up close, the water’s that gorgeous green he loves, and in the distance, it’s reflecting back the sunset, the golden color of sunshine.
Even when I’m not painting him, he’severywhere.
My hands stop shaking. My breath comes easy.
He’ll be here soon.
Not sure how long I stare at the half-finished painting, remembering how my sunshine’s arms felt wrapped around me when I’d taken the picture I’m working from, except it’s gotta be way longer than I think, ‘cause next thing I know, there’s a knock at my door.
Jesse.
Suddenly, that crazy-ass smile from this morning’s back on my face in full force, and my heart’s all light and fluttery as I toss down my mostly dried out paintbrush and bounce over to open the door.
My sunshine’s here to make sure I’m safe. Even if there never was anything except my own paranoid freakout to worry about in the first place.
Maybe I can’t hope for him to ever love me like I love him, but he’shere. He cared enough to drop everything and come.
I’m still grinning like an idiot when I flick back the lock and swing the door open; all the fucking way open for the man waiting on the other side.
Because an idiot’sexactlywhat I am. A total fucking idiot.
As fucking stupid as he’s always told me I am.
“Josh.”
“Hey babe.” He tilts his head to the side, smiling that fake-ass plastic smile that doesn’t touch his eyes. The one he’d use when he was hella pissed off but saving face in public. Saving it all up for me when we got somewhere private.
Clammy panic crawls down my spine, and the little flecks of paint that’ve dried on my hand suddenly feel like they’re gonna peel my skin right off, they’re itching so bad. I can’t even try and scrape them off though because I’m paralyzed. All frozen and shaky and trapped in my own damn head because I don’t have a goddamn clue what to do.
And he knows it.
He fuckinglovesit.
“How?”
“How did I find you?” His smile’s not fake now. No, now he’s grinning like a fucking shark. “Tracker app on your phone, babe.” A scoff. “You seriously telling me you’re so stupid youdidn’t know I put it on there ages ago? I knew you’d pull some kind of shit like this, and I always keep tabs on what’s mine.”
He knew. The whole fucking time. Every time I’ve moved this last year, feeling like I was getting farther and farther away from him, he’s known exactly where I was.
“Aren’t you going to ask me in?” He takes a step forward and reaches out, like he’s gonna touch my cheek, and I can smell his cologne. The same expensive shit he’s always worn. The shit I’d thought I’d liked, until one day, it made me wanna puke.
Smelling it now’s got my throat tightening up. Like before he even gets his hands on me, just the smell of him’s going to choke me.
And then my brain snaps back to life.
I don’t have to fucking do this. Not anymore. Noteveragain.
Before I get a chance to do much more than just think about slamming the door shut in his face though, Josh’s hand smacks against the wood, holding it open.
“What the fuck, Tristan?” He’s not smiling now. Just glaring at me with that look that screams as loud and clear as his words how bad I’ve just fucked up. “Are you seriously going to act like you didn’t miss me after you made me fly all the way up here to find you?”
He reaches forward again, and I duck back to try and keep him from actually touching me, but I can’t go far, ‘cause Iwon’tlet go of the door or move to let him into my apartment. And still, there’s this part of me that’s totally melting down, screaming at me to just give in. Give him whatever the fuck he wants.
Just be good.
Don’t piss him off.
