He’s still healing, I know that, but there’s something steadier about him now. Ronda noticed it too. I hear it in her voice when she talks about him on our weekly calls.
“Come on in,” he says, stepping back.
“Nice place,” I tell him, looking around the open-concept living room and kitchen.
It’s clean and tidy, but it lacks character, more like corporate housing than a home.
He shrugs. “I don’t plan to stay here long. After living in a house, apartment life feels like a step backward. I didn’t miss thin walls and noisy neighbors.”
“No doubt. My building in New York is a 1920s brick; it’s practically soundproof. I could never go back to cheap, thin-walled construction.”
He grins. “So, what are you here to show me?” he asks, trying to sound casual but clearly keyed up.
He hates surprises. The wait must be killing him.
“How would you feel about taking another trip to Astoria with me tomorrow?”
His face lights up like a kid in a candy store. “Sure, why are we going back there?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see when we get there,” I say, chuckling.
I’m dying to tell him about the property and about moving to Oregon, but I want to see the look on his face when we get there.
“You aren’t going to tell me, are you?” He sounds half-annoyed, half-pleased.
I used to do this to him all the time when we were kids; stretching out the anticipation is almost its own reward. I hope to use that in other ways in the future.
“Nope.”
“God, you can be so frustrating,” he says, rolling his eyes as he steers me into the kitchen. “Want something to drink?”
“Just water, thanks.”
He hands me a glass and shows me to the spare bedroom to drop my bag, then points out the bathroom. Back in the living room, we settle at opposite ends of the couch.
“My mom mentioned you told her you were coming. We postponed her birthday party after the mess with Ray. We were thinking, since you’re here, maybe we could do it this weekend, and she wondered if we could celebrate your graduation, too.”
Ronda brought it up the last time we talked, but I shrugged it off. She insisted, and I didn’t want to argue with her.
“That sounds great. What’d your boss say about your return date?”
“He’s fine with it. I’m glad I get another week off so I can spend some time with you while you’re here, if you have time. I mean I don’t know what your plans are, since you haven’t told me what you’re doing here. Hint, hint.” He tries the look that usually gets him nowhere with me, flashing a crooked smile.
“I plan to spend time with you, but I’m still not telling you what I’m hiding. You’ll just have to be patient. You know, your strong suit.” I wink back, teasing him.
“Fine, I’ll wait.” He pouts dramatically. “What time do you want to leave?”
“We’ve got an appointment at eleven, so we should hit the road by nine.”
He perks up at the word appointment but stops pressing. “We’d better get to bed, then.” It’s almost midnight, and my body is on East Coast time; I’m ready to drop.
Heading down the hall, he lets me use the bathroom first. When I come out, Jay’s waiting on the other side of the door, offering mea sweet, shy smile and murmuring goodnight before slipping into the bathroom.
I lie in the dark and remind myself of the rules: he needs time; I need patience, and for now, no matter how loud the wanting gets, I’m his friend first.
The drive to Astoria is quick and easy. As we pull up to the building, Jay squints at the “For Sale” sign still hanging outside, with a look of confusion. Although we’re under contract, the seller is still marketing the property in case our deal falls through.
“What’s here?” he asks.
