Another non-answer that has my lips twitching. “Or you could study here tomorrow morning.”
His eyebrows pop up, as if he hadn’t considered that. “I don’t have my school supplies.”
“Isaac… Would you want to run home now, get what you need, and spend the night?”
He’s quiet for a minute, his fingers twisting in my belt loops. “Can I still have your sweats?”
My smile is immediate. “Yeah. We’ll just roll the pant legs up a few dozen times.”
He swats my chest. “I’m notthatmuch shorter than you.”
“You are, but I like it, better-than-average—”
Isaac slaps a hand over my mouth. “Finish that sentence, and I’m not coming back here tonight.”
I chuckle, stepping back so Isaac can climb off the chair.
“You’re such a sassy shit,” he mumbles, heading with me out of the tattoo shop. “And no one even knows it.”
“Guess you’re just lucky,” I joke.
His expression turns serious, his voice so low I’m not sure I’m meant to hear. “I think I am.”
Isaac walks ahead of me up the stairs, leaving me feeling warm and nearly weightless in his wake. After grabbing his keys, he heads out.
I find my uncle in the living room, his eyebrow popping up. “Not even a goodbye?”
“He’s coming back,” I tell him, trying not to feel too satisfied by that. It’s not a huge deal. I’ve slept at Isaac’s before.
But thisisnew. Which makes it feel important.
My uncle hums. “Guess you’ll have a reason to use the new espresso maker that mysteriously showed up the other day. You know anything about that?”
“You’re not as cute as you think you are,” I inform him.
His laughter follows me down the hall.
Before Isaac returns, I set to work on step three of my plan. I wish I’d thought to grab some nice paper for this, but all I have is lined paper from a spiral-bound notebook. It’ll have to do.
I write out what I need to before carefully tearing the paper into strips.
Isaac’s knock comes fifteen minutes later. I let him in, taking his backpack as he toes off his shoes. He looks a little nervous, like he’s not sure how to act with my uncle in the apartment.
“My room?” I offer.
He nods gratefully.
We retreat there, and I shut the door. Isaac makes himself comfortable on my bed, looking around with fresh eyes. The one time he was in here, he didn’t have long to take everything in. He seems to do so now.
I leave him to it, heading to my dresser to find a pair of sweats he can borrow. Picking out a pair, I slip one of the pieces of paper into the pocket before tossing the sweats his way. “They have a drawstring waist.”
Isaac doesn’t take the comment as me being asassy shit. We both know he’s considerably slimmer than I am. He leans back to shimmy out of his jeans, tugging the sweats on afterward. The smile on his face as his hand runs over the fabric has my heart beating heavily inside my chest.
“Thanks,” he says. “They’re really soft.”
I nod in a jerk, setting his backpack near the bed. “The bathroom is right across the hall.”
He ties the drawstring tight before dropping his feet to the floor. We both look down at the fabric pooling around his ankles.
