by Staci Hart
He sighed. “That’s not why I came here. Don’t worry about it, Tricky. What’s up with you?”
I folded my arms. “Come on, man. What’s going on? Are you clean? I mean, you didn’t—”
He shook his head. “No, no. Nothing like that. It’s just that my roommate bailed a couple of months ago. I’d been doing okay, but my savings are almost gone, and I’ve been looking for a roommate, but it hasn’t been easy. I’m recovering, you know? Living with a stranger could be dangerous for me — I don’t even know if I can have liquor in the house, you know? And almost everyone else I know is a junkie.”
“Yeah, I know.” I knew then what was coming, and the war in my thoughts began. “How can I help?”
“It’s not your problem.”
“I know it’s not, but I still want to help.”
He smirked, trying to make light of it. “Well, if you know anybody who needs a roommate, you could give them my number.”
There was only person who I knew who fit the bill. Me. My living situation was nowhere near stable or permanent. I knew I didn’t want to go back to West’s, and I’d need to find somewhere to go sooner than later.
“I may need a roommate soon.”
His brow quirked. “Yeah?”
I nodded. “You know I’ve been sleeping on Rose’s couch, but I don’t know how long that will last, and West and Lily should stay in our old place. I just don’t know when I’ll need to decide. How long do you have?”
“A couple of weeks.”
“I can handle that. Let me think about it, and if you find somebody else, just let me know.”
He smiled and shook his head. “Man. It’d be just like old times.”
I laughed. “Except better.”
Seth rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe a little less drama. Anyway, I’m starving, thought I’d see if you wanted to get something to eat?”
“Can’t. Still have another client, but I’ll take you up on that soon. Hit me up.”
“All right.” He stood, still smiling. “I’d better get something to eat. Take it easy, Tricky.”
We embraced again, and he headed out as I sat back down at my desk.
Living with Seth again after all this time? If you’d have told me a few weeks ago I’d be considering it, I would have said you were crazy. But I was in limbo, even if it was a happy limbo. Even if I looked at it solely from an objective point of view, it made sense. I’d have to figure something out eventually. Did the timing matter?
My first thought was that yes, it did. Staying with Rose might have been the only thing keeping us together. At least right now. After a few weeks, maybe things would be different, but right now? I had a tenuous grip on the situation, and I wasn’t ready to risk letting it slip away. But that didn’t change the fact that I had no place to call my own. Clothes at one place. Toothbrush at another. Never sleeping in my own bed.
I sighed, setting down my pencil as Joel approached.
I eyed him. “Are you about to lecture me?”
He put up his hands in surrender. “Nope. Promise. What’d he want?”
“He wanted to eat, but I also found out he needs a roommate. And, technically, I need somewhere to stay.”
His eyes were hard, though the rest of him relaxed as he tried to hold back what he really wanted to say. I’d known him too long to let that get past me. “Mmm,” he said noncommittally. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
He didn’t seem satisfied with that answer, but he nodded anyway. “It’s been a while since you’ve been by for a beer. You busy tonight?”
“Not until later.”
“Good. We’ll walk up after your next job.” He smirked at me as he walked away.
It was that simple, that easy. Being friends with Joel always was. When I moved in with him after he hired me, when I got clean, I was amazed at just how simple it was. My first real friend — Seth — had been anything but simple. My relationship with my father was strained, and I barely remembered my mother. And that was just about the extent of the people who were a part of my life for more than twelve months at a time, before Joel.
It wasn’t until I met him then that I began to realize my view on the world was far more hopeless than life really was. The reality was that the people in my life had sucked me dry, and that if I could find people who gave as much as they took, it would change everything. And it did.
I closed my notebook and setup my station, finishing just as my next client walked in. I had drawn up a memorial piece for the man’s wife, who had recently passed away. He was a quiet, solemn man and sat in my chair as still as stone as I worked, hands clasped in his lap, eyes locked on the window, blank.
At one point, I asked how he was holding up, but he shook his head, eyes still on the window.
“I want it to hurt. The pain reminds me that I’m still alive.”
I nodded. I’d been there more than I cared to think about, and every drop of ink on my skin was a display of that pain in one way or another. My body was a canvas, an exposition that required no words. Just a reminder that I was alive. That I would remember my faults and my mistakes, never to make them again.
They were a reminder that life would always go on.
I inked the lines, shaded and filled, the machine vibrating in my hand, up my arm until the familiar feeling became a part of me. Neither of us spoke.
I shook his hand when he left, felt his sadness. Felt the connection of being a part of something that meant so much to him, something that would exist on his body to remind him. But I knew that the mark was only a symbol. It was for others even more than it was for him. Because he would never forget. Neither would I.
I cleaned up my station and grabbed my bag, heading to the back where Joel waited so we could walk up to his place together. He and Shep lived in the apartment above the shop, the same place I’d lived while Joel put me back on my feet. As we walked through the door, the familiar smell of the apartment settled into me, clinging to me like a part of me never really left.
It was home.
It was my first Christmases and Thanksgiving that felt like the family you saw in movies. Times when I felt loved unconditionally. It was the first time I knew what it was like to have someone in your life who’d always have your back, who had your best interest at heart. Someone who loved you.
Moving to New York opened my eyes. Moving in with Joel changed the course of my life.
I took a seat on the couch, and Joel walked into the kitchen and grabbed us beers. He handed me one by the neck as he took a seat in an armchair, propping his boots on the coffee table before twisting the cap off with a hiss.
He took a sip and inspected the bottle as if the liquid inside hadn’t been what he thought it’d be. “Man, that’s good.”
I took a drink and settled into the couch. “Now are you going to lecture me?”
He shrugged and brought the bottle close to his lips. “Maybe.”
I looked away, trying not to smile as I took another drink.
“I’ll start small. What happened today with Rose?”
“We just went to lunch, but it was good. Normal. Two days ago, I didn’t know if I’d ever kiss her again. Today, I held her hand. Tonight, I’ll go home to her.” I sighed deeply and shook my head. “I don’t know. It feels good, but I’m just hoping it’s not too good to be true.”
He nodded nostalgically. “You never know with the old fight and fuck. I know the dance well. My entire relationship with Liz revolved around it, but I don’t suspect you and Rose will end up that bad. Liz and I were just gonna keep going until there was nothing left of either of us.” He took a drink. “So, are you two back together?”
“We haven’t talked about it. It feels like we’re together, but with an asterisk next to it. As in, together until we do talk about it, and then it’s likely to implode. So I’m not trying to talk about it.”
Joel chuffed. “Well, that sounds foolproof.”
�
�It’s all I’ve got, for now. She feels good. Being with her feels good. I’ve waited for this since the moment I fucked it up, and if I play my cards right, I might end up keeping her for good. I’ll play it however I have to. I’m not going to waste the opportunity.”
“Well, I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same if I were you. Just be careful. The longer it goes on without figuring it out, the farther you have to fall when it falls apart. Because if you don’t talk about it, it’ll definitely fall apart.”
“Noted.” I took a drink.
“All right. See? That didn’t hurt so bad. So now I’ll ask what’s up with Seth.”
“Nothing. His roommate bailed on him and he needs a replacement.”
His brow dropped. “Tricky, if you need a place to stay, you can always stay here.”
“I know. Technically, I don’t need a place to stay. But I don’t want to stay at West’s anymore, you know? Like, it doesn’t feel like my home, not that it’s his fault. I just feel him and Lily starting a life, or something. I don’t fit there anymore.”
“I get that.” He brought the bottle to his lips.
“And at Rose’s, I have Rose, but everything is up in the air. The situation could break down tomorrow. Tonight. A week from now. Never. But Seth has a room now, and he needs a roommate. At some point, I’m going to have to find a place to stay if I’m not staying with West and if Rose and I don’t last.” My stomach turned at the thought. I did my best to ignore it.
His brow was still low, though he wasn’t judging me. He was worried. “Why do you always feel like you’ve gotta save him?”
I wiped the sweat from the cold bottle with my thumb. “He was the first friend I’d ever had, Joel. I was sixteen and alone in New York with nothing but the money my dad gave me when I left.”
“Fuck The Sergeant.” He raised his bottle.
I did the same. “Hear, hear.”
We both took drinks.
I recrossed my feet in front of me, staring at the laces of my boots. “Seth was … I don’t know. He was free and wild. Being with him made me feel like I was invincible. I was closed off to the world when I met him, and he showed me what the other side looked like.”
“And got you hooked on drugs. Heroin, at that. He couldn’t have just smoked weed like a normal person.”
I shook my head. “He just doesn’t know when to quit. Like his self-preservation gene is dysfunctional.”
Joel pointed the mouth of his bottle at me. “He’s weak, and he preys on you.”
I gave him a flat look. “I’m not stupid, Joel. My eyes are wide open when it comes to him. The last time we lived together and I came home and found him sprawled out in his bed, barely conscious with a needle in his arm? I called it, man. I pulled the trigger the second he was coherent, and I kicked him out. That was it. I’m not a sucker, man.”
“No, but you’ve got a soft spot for him. It’s no wonder he’s around. He needs something.”
“Maybe. But he didn’t ask me for anything.”
“Yet.”
I dragged in a breath and let it out slow. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re right. I’m not jumping to move in with him, not with so much to figure out with Rose. But Seth is clean, or says he is, and he seems to be. I’ve never seen him like this before, and I want to believe this is it. I’m not going to turn him out. It’s been a long time, and if he has his shit together, I’m willing to entertain the idea.”
Joe’s eyes were heavy with knowledge and warning. “You miss the good old days, but here’s the thing, Patrick. Those good old days weren’t real. It was a mirage, an idea that you had of him that wasn’t the truth because you were thirsty for a friend. The truth is that he’s too weak to quit. Not everyone has what you have, the spit, the scrote, you know? They’re not warriors.”
I felt the key Rose gave me, hanging against my heart. Survive. And then I looked into his eyes and told him the real reason, the one I usually kept guarded, hidden. “I have to believe that anyone can change, Joel. I have to believe that if you want something bad enough, you can make your own destiny. I have to believe there’s a choice.”
“There is a choice, and anyone can change, but it’s harder for some than others. Look, I know Seth wants to change. But what we want and what we do aren’t always the same thing.” He sighed. “I’m gonna be honest. I don’t like him hanging around, and I certainly don’t like the idea of you living with him.”
“You don’t say,” I said with a smirk.
“Smartass,” he muttered and took a sip.
“I hear you, man. I really do. I’ll watch my back, okay? Just trust me to handle it. I’ve earned that, right?”
“Yeah, you’ve earned it,” he said begrudgingly. “I just worry, you know.”
“I know. But you’re not responsible for my actions any more than I am for Seth’s.”
But he shrugged, smiling at me. “What can I say? I’m invested.”
22
NICE AND SLOW
Patrick
I LEFT JOEL’S TO HEAD to Habits to meet West and Lily, but mostly to see Rose. She stood behind the bar, dark hair down and red lips smiling.
That smile was mine.
The night was mostly inconsequential, just the four of us hanging out as Max and Ellie canoodled a few seats away. Lily and West seemed to be watching me and Rose. I couldn’t take my eyes of her, and instead of her looking away or avoiding me all together, she met my gaze through the night, touched my arm, slipped her fingers into mine.
Seth was on my mind, and I thought about telling her. But it had to wait. We had to figure us out first.
By the time Lily leaned over the bar to kiss Rose goodbye, Ellie and Max’s make-out session had grown progressively heavier, and with more visible tongue.
Ellie broke away, lips swollen and lids heavy as she smiled at Rose.
“We’re heading to Max’s, so you two have the place to yourselves. Don’t break any more lamps, okay?” She winked as she grabbed her bag and slipped off the stool, grabbing Max by the front of the shirt to snap him out of it. He grinned at me and followed her out of the bar like a puppy dog.
And then, Rose and I were alone. Or as alone as we could be in Habits. The bar was almost empty other than a couple in the back, Shelby, the other bartender, and Bob, who was awake by only a degree as he nursed something neat and amber at a booth in the back corner.
Rose sighed, smiling as she cleared away the glasses and cocktail napkins and talked about her days. Everything about the night was familiar, the same thing we’d done a hundred times, but somehow, everything was different too. She was different. Excitement buzzed through me at the prospect of this lasting. I tried to push the thought away, telling myself the shoe would drop at some point, but I wasn’t strong enough to bury the feeling all together.
As much as I wanted to know how she felt, I didn’t want to ruin the moments between us with the business of what would come. I read her expression, her body language, and I knew — she was happy too. So I wouldn’t ask questions I didn’t want the answer to. Not until I needed the answer.
Right now, there was only one thing I needed, and it didn’t require a single word.
Shelby made her way over smiling, eyes bouncing between us. “Head home, Rose. I’ll shut it down.”
“You sure?” she asked hopefully.
“Yup. I can handle Bob, and Craig will be here in a few, so I’ve got muscle to walk me home.”
“Thank goodness for beefy boyfriends,” she said with a laugh. “Thanks, Shelby. Let me restock and finish cleaning up at least.”
She raised her hands. “If you insist. Have fun, you two.”
Rose moved a little faster, blowing to the stock room and coming back with bottles in her arms, and I watched her, the line of her neck, the curve of her waist, her fingers as she lined the bottles up. And then she was smiling up at me as she walked around the bar and took my arm.
I felt like I was high, caught between everything we had been
when we were together and everything I’d wanted when we were apart. Memories, wishing, all of it had amalgamated into whatever we were now.
We were shoulder to shoulder as we walked the blocks to our building, chatting easily, and when she leaned into me, I tucked her under my arm, reveling in the feeling. We walked up the stairs, through her front door. When I closed it behind me, I watched her back for a moment as she set down her purse and bent to pull off her boots.
She stood again, and I stepped behind her, turned her around, slipped my hand into the curve of her neck. Searched her face, her dark eyes full of questions and answers. But instead of asking for them, I kissed her.
Last night we needed each other. Tonight, I would take my time.
Her arms wound around my neck slowly, hands slipping up my nape and into my hair as I closed my mouth over her bottom lip and sucked.
Her arms tightened, bringing her flush against me.
I picked her up, carried her through the apartment and into her room, standing her up at the foot of her bed. She looked up at me, eyes burning.
I stripped off my leather jacket, my eyes on her lips, hers on my hands as I unbuttoned my shirt. Her fingers slipped under the fabric, tracing the lines of my tattoos down my abs as I pulled off my shirt. Her fingertips ran across the tattoo low on my hip, one she must not have noticed before.
She looked up at me, eyes big and open, still touching the rose inked into my skin, surrounded by thorns. “Patrick …” she whispered, the word heavy with sadness.
But I smiled. “A reminder of my regrets. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”
I covered her mouth with mine before she could speak, not needing words. Not wanting them yet. I could feel her heart through her touch, the bittersweet ache of yes and no warring through her.
One hand found her face, fingers splayed across her cheek, her chin in my hand, and I gripped, angling her just how I wanted as my other hand crossed her back, pulling her close, as close as I could. I felt her let go, give me control, as if she’d given me permission to do with her what I wished. So that’s exactly what I did.