Finally, he looks at me. “What’s up?”
“I got a job at an art gallery.”
“What? Congratulations!” He looks as excited as I am to tell him.
“It’s the on-site catering, but it’s still working for the gallery. It’s kind of a rotating schedule between their café hours and events, so I can pick up shifts when I want and switch with someone else if I’m having a pain day.”
“That’s perfect.”
“I saw the help needed sign, walked in, and they hired me on the spot.”
“Deadass?”
“Yes! It’s still only a part-time deal, but it’s a popular spot. The schedule already has openings for four events next weekend when my dog walks are the least busy.”
“I’m so happy for you. I wish I could hug you right now.”
I do too. “If all goes well and it stays busy enough, I’ll get enough to qualify for long-shot greenie. Even though it’s the smallest unit, it’s big enough for me and a Bean.”
“Only you and a cat?”
“And you when you visit. But we’ll have to share a bed.”
“Oh no. Anything but that.” There’s excitement beneath his sarcasm, shown by the redness in his cheeks.
“I had fun last weekend.”
The redness becomes more visible. “I did too.”
His full attention is on me now. The same attentive concern hehad when he was staring down at me, seeing how hard he could go without hurting me our first time. My pussy clenches at the memory.
“Can I be extremely real with you?” I ask. A warning, really.
“Definitely.”
“I don’t think anyone has made me come as hard as you did. And you made me come many,manytimes.”
His entire face is rosy now, as if he wasn’t the one turning me out. “You’re easy to read, and I like making you . . . happy.”
To be fair, he warned me he was good. Hell, Natalie warned me too. And I didn’t believe either of them. Shame on me.
“How are you feeling about it? Are you still okay?” I ask, openly inviting his truth.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” he says. “It’s you. I trust you more than anyone. And I know you love—”
He cuts himself short, but not until after saying the quiet part out loud. It’s what I feared, pushing him into feelings he shouldn’t have for me. The bad habits I promised I wouldn’t let him repeat.
“Idolove you, Liem.” My heart flutters when the word comes out. I say it so often, on purpose, though I’ve never said it to him. “You’re one of my best friends. You know that.”
“I do. And that’s what I meant, I swear.”
I study his face through my screen for a moment, then choose to believe him. “Okay.”
“Okay,” he says. His fingers swirl the drawstrings of his hood absentmindedly. He’s nervous. “I, um, love you too, by the way. In case that wasn’t clear.”
That word dances over my skin. “It was. But thank you for saying it.”
The coy version of himself is back. “You should get some sleep.”
