Only Ximena. The knife seemed foolish and unnecessary now. Micah was getting worked up – again – over people who wouldn’t harm him.
It had been hard to sleep with Soft Cell going on, but he didn’t know how he was going to relax if there were ghostly maintenance workers ripping up the flooring and installing the shower door. And what would happen when past-him movedin? Did that meanhewas destined to move out? His lease wasn’t up, and he didn’t have enough for a deposit on a new place.
He set the knife on the ground. “Things seem to appear at random. The shower curtain ring, your lipstick. I bet there are other things that I haven’t noticed.”
“You came inside while I was in there.”
Micah stared. He had, hadn’t he?
Cosmo cringed and pressed a hand over his mouth. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have pointed that out.”
There hadn’t been time to think about it; Micah was only concerned with keeping Cosmo from enduring a similar fate to his own. “I wasn’t going to let anyone hurt you.”
“You are so sweet.” Cosmo gave him a radiant smile.
Before he could stop himself, Micah blurted, “Will you go out with me again? Please?”
“I can’t. He’ll ruin it.”
“Who?”
Cosmo sighed. “My ex. I’ve tried seeing new people in the past, then they dump me out of the blue. Either they send me a message breaking it off, or they disappear and I never hear from them again. Zedd will see a photo of me and my inamorate on social media, or he’ll hear that I was kissing someone at a party, and he finds them and drives them away.” Cosmo swept a lock of hair from his vision and let out a deep sigh. “I can’t handle a broken heart again.”
Diffused light from the window painted Cosmo in soft strokes, highlighting the smudge of eyeliner at the corner of his eyes, the angular cut of his jaw, and the graceful arch of his neck. He liked Micah. He didn’t tell him his art was tasteful and refined – he said it wasstrange. And Micah’s blown pupil didn’t make him look disfigured, it made him look like Bowie.
This was the closest Micah had been to romance in a long time. The closest he’d been to letting someone in. And he’d be damned if some pathetic ex-boyfriend was going to ruin it.
“You run through my mind constantly.” He brushed a bit of glass from Cosmo’s shoulder, then slid his thumb along the seam of his jacket. “I want to see your art. I want to get to know you. As far as your ex is concerned, I don’t need to be your inamorato – I’m just an art colleague, your asexual friend who wants to take you on a picnic in a graveyard.”
“That’s rather morbid.”
“This weekend?”
Cosmo looked like Micah had asked him whether he wanted the arsenic or the cyanide in his tea. “You’re going to ghost me eventually, just like everyone else.”
“I mean…” He gestured to himself. “We’re already doing the ghost thing. And I wasn’t going to let a triviality like death get in the way of my crush on you.”
“I noticed.” Cosmo pulled out his phone. “Saturday. Give me your number so we can make plans. I’ll bring wine and dessert.”
Oh, this was happening. He gave Cosmo his number, then took the blanket back inside. Bits of glass glittered on the hallway floor, but not nearly as much as he expected.
He crept past the mess, peering into the kitchen and bathroom, but they were empty.
Cosmo hung at the doorway, typing on his phone. “Will you be alright in here? I don’t want past-Ximena to mace you while you sleep.”
“Well, what’s a little excitement in my life?” His phone vibrated, and a message appeared from Cosmo:
That was a lot of emojis. Micah opened his keyboard, finger hovering over a kiss-blowing smiley he’d seen Cosmo use so many times on Flashbulb. He clicked it and hit send.
“It’s getting late,” Micah said. “Want me to drive you back to the gallery so you can get your car?”
“I’ll walk. But you can join me.”
Micah locked the door and followed him down the stairs. “Your ex doesn’t hang around the gallery, does he?”
Cosmo sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. Though I haven’t seen him in a while. I’m grateful for Royce. He’s the only one who can scare Zedd away.”
“The director?” When Micah had first walked into the gallery, Royce had snarled at Micah to leave before he even had a chance to explain why he was there. He was almost certain Royce was the director who asked artists for head in exchange for portfolio consideration, but that conversation with thedeparted ceramics artist had been so long ago. “I guess I can’t blame him for being hostile when I show up with flowers and you already get harassed by your ex. He doesn’t ask you to do… like…”
