2005?
Why does he have a super old pill bottle?
He would have been like twenty-two years old when this was prescribed.
Has he lived in this condo since then?
Miguel doesn’t strike me as the person who would forget to throw away a used prescription bottle.
I hear the key in the lock and quickly toss it up in the cabinet and close the doors. I rush around trying to close as many of the other cabinets as possible when Miguel walks in, glistening with sweat, toothbrush for me in hand.
“Hey.” He greets me and I smile.
“Hi. I tried to put everything away where it goes but I might have gotten a few things mixed up.”
He chuckles. “That’s fine, thank you Laney. You’ll just have to be here to help me find things when I need them next time.”
I giggle. “I think that can be arranged.”
This flirty side of Miguel is so fucking fun. He seems lighter, and more willing to engage with me. But, also, for someone who I feel like I know really well I’m not sure I know him at all.
He holds out the toothbrush and I swipe it from his hand with a nervously chirped “thank you!”
He gives me a sideways glance and I simply turn away and walk to the bathroom.
“Freshen up and then we’ll drive to get your clothes for the bike ride.” He calls after me.
My brain goes into overdrive as soon as I close the door to the bathroom. Miguel makes me feel lots of things. Sensual, inspired, motivated. He’s a stranger, of course, but he’s the type of stranger who will help you out in a jam.
He’ll stack a bunch of bikes you accidentally knocked over.
He’ll insist you sleep in his hotel room instead of the backseat of a car.
He’ll diligently ensure you’re warmed up after a brush with hypothermia.
Miguel is the type of stranger who doesn’t feel like a stranger at all. From the moment I met him there’s been this feeling like I’ve known him forever. His calm, stoic demeanor called tomy chaotic energy and after just a few short weeks of working together I can feel how I’ve learned some steadiness from him, and it feels like he’s learned some goofiness from me.
It’s like we were both waiting to find the other to learn how to share those hidden parts of ourselves.
Chapter eighteen
Laney
Bike Ride or Boy Ride?
“Youcanjuststayhere while I run up and change. Shouldn’t be a minute.” I say to Miguel fifteen minutes later when we’re outside my apartment. A reusable grocery tote full of the meals he prepared for me sits on the floor behind my seat.
“I’ll allow it.” Miguel says.
“You’ll allow it.” I repeat as I cock my head at him.
“Yes.”
“You make it seem like you’re the boss of me.” I cross my arms and if I was standing a hip would be jutting out as I adjust my stance to express the full attitude adjustment he needs.
“I’m notthe boss of you, but I am in charge.”
My body freezes as flashes of last night explode in my mind. How do people do this? How do they fuck each other’s brains out and then go back to just talking and functioning properly the next morning?
