“Er, I have some of that body spray stuff in the can.”
“Ew, no. We’ve got one here called Moonlight. It’s super sexy but not obnoxious. Trust me, he’ll love it.”
Micah was going to have to add the mall to his list of errand locations. His phone beeped with an incoming call. He said goodbye to the cashier, then answered.
Déjà’s sandy voice came through the line. “Did you find Cosmo in the flesh?”
Strange that she was asking when she didn’t seem to want anything to do with him or the situation. “We have a date in a graveyard.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
He snorted. She could do morbid humor too, apparently. “Yeah. I found him in the flesh.”
“You figure out what’s going on in your studio?”
“Sort of. You want the working theory?”
“Maybe later. Right now, I need you to promise me three things.” He started to speak, but she continued. “One. You don’t ever cheat on Cosmo.”
“Okay. I can promise that. But why do you–”
“Two. You treat him like the queen he is.”
Micah wanted nothing more. “I promise.”
“Three. You fuck the brains out of his pretty head.”
“Uh.” He scrubbed at his eyebrow. “I’m ace. I can’t promise that.”
There was a beat of silence. “Huh, I thought I was saving the easiest one for last. We can’t have a promise with only two parts. Then you promise to pay attention to his physical needs, whether that’s food or cuddling or getting him a sex toy.”
“What about my needs?”
Conviction filled her voice. “Cosmo has a tender, giving heart. He will shower you in adoration and baked goods. Unless you hate brownies, you’ll be fine.”
“Well, I was on the fence, but the brownies sealed it for me. I promise.” He paused. “I know it’s not my business, but maybe you should reach out to him. It’s obvious you still care.”
“Text me later. Tell me about the studio. I’m curious.” There was a click, and the call ended.
Déjà’s sudden and active interest in Cosmo’s well-being surprised him, but it shouldn’t have. When Micah had broken up with Courtney, she’d cut off all communication with him, never even acknowledging his requests for her to pick up her things from his apartment. He never saw her in the places she used to frequent, and she changed the password on the music app they’d jointly used, locking him out, even thoughhewas the one who’d been paying for it.
A year and a half later, the assault had happened. A month after that, Courtney called. She’d called every month since then to see how he was doing, and had even invited him to go get a coffee, though he’d declined.
Maybe she did it out of guilt or pity, or maybe it was because the wounds that had sundered them weren’t as fresh as they once were. He wasn’t going to ask what had happened between Déjà and Cosmo, but he hoped that if one of them reached out to the other, that the outcome would be positive.
A knock came at the door, and his heart filled his throat. He crossed through the hall and into the living room. He’d lived in a studio for so long that keeping his bed and drafting table in separate rooms was too strange, and he wasn’t sure what to put in the living room at all. Right now it held milk crates and unframed paintings, but maybe he’d come around to the idea of making it his studio area.
He shook out his hands, drew a slow breath through his nose, then opened the door. Ximena stood on the step with a box and a stack of his shirts and jackets draped over one arm.
“Geez, you don’t need to do this.” He picked up the jackets by their hangers, then set them on a crate just inside the door. “I was going to get more stuff out of there later.”
“I don’t mind helping. The sooner everything is out of there, the better. Not sure what to do with the space now, but that’s a worry for another day.” She stepped over the threshold and into the living room.
Micah’s chest seized, limbs vibrating with the energy of a nuclear reactor. Alarm bells rang through his mind, and a strangled noise tore from his throat. He needed togo, to push past her out the door, but he couldn’t move.
Ximena dropped the box and the side burst open, hemorrhaging kitchen utensils and spice shakers. She threw her hands over her mouth and backed out the door. “I’m so sorry! I’m so, so sorry. I wasn’t thinking about this being like your old place, and I don’t know why.”
He worked the lump from his throat and flexed his fingers. A shaker had popped open, and pepper covered the floor. After a few deep breaths, he said, “It’s okay.”
