Kierst eyes me as if she’s waiting for a ha or a but or any other indication that I’m not completely serious. When it doesn’t come, her eyes soften, and she reaches over the center console to squeeze my hand.
“I’m always going to be here for you, Gems.”
I squeeze back. “And I’m gonna work on sending some of that support your way, starting now.” I rub a tiny smudge of black mascara from her cheek. “You’re going to be great. You were meant to do this.”
She takes one last look in the mirror, then snaps it back in place. “You’re right. I was. And whatever got into you just now, I think I like it.”
I think I like it too.
She unbuckles her seatbelt and opens her door.
“Hey, Kierst,” I call after her. “You’re the GOAT.”
She turns around and gives a sharp nod. “Fuck yeah I am.”
Chapter 25
“So, what do you think? Home sweet home.”
I set the last of Dax’s boxes onto the concrete floor of Dougie and Brandon’s basement. We spent the afternoon packing up Dax’s apartment. Although I tried to keep up the optimism and perpetuate the lie that he’s moving on to bigger and better, there’s been a mournful energy to the day so far.
It doesn’t help that Dougie and Brandon’s basement isn’t exactly an ideal bachelor pad. I secretly swear to myself to never, ever complain about my own murder basement ever again.
Where mine is fully finished with painted drywall and faux-hardwood floors, Dax’s new place is a true basement, complete with cinderblock walls, exposed support beams, and the entirety of Frank’s extended family.
“It’s not glamorous, I know. But the guys are letting me stay here for free until I get on my feet. I’ll have my own place again soon, I promise.”
“I don’t doubt that for a second.” I wrap my arms around his neck, hating the look he’s giving me right now. “This place has that rustic industrial vibe that’s totally in right now. The low lighting gives you a broody look that I find very attractive. This place has all the makings of a sex cave.”
This earns me a small smile.
“Is that right?”
I run my hands down the front of his chest. “I mean, I walked down these steps and immediately wanted to tear your clothes off. It might have been all those muscles you were flexing, lifting all of those boxes and everything, but I feel like this place has big sex energy.”
His hands cup my face, and I expect a flirty kiss or a hungry kiss, something to go along with the tone of our banter. Instead, I get a long, deep, soulful one that I feel all the way to my core, along with the distinct impression that it means something to Dax.
“Thank you.” He pulls me into his chest, and we stand there for what feels like hours but is probably only a handful of minutes. I could linger there happily for many more, but the sound of Dougie’s not-so-delicate footsteps clunks down the stairs, followed by a grizzly-like clearing of the throat just as Dougie’s head pops around the corner—hand readied to cover his eyes if needed.
“Okay, good,” he says when he sees us still fully clothed. “Wasn’t too sure what the two of you were up to down here. We should probably work out some sort of code. I just promised Brandon I’d make him bacon for brunch, and we keep it down here in the big freezer. But while I’m here, I thought I’d tell you both that Brandon and I are planning on throwing a party here on Saturday to welcome our new roommate. Real classy affair. I’m thinking either Tight and Bright or Twilight-themed. Mark it in your calendar.”
I take out my phone to make a note of it in my calendar and make sure I have the time this week to find the perfect costume. However, when I flip to Saturday, two words stare back at me.
Waning gibbous.
My time is up. As of Saturday, the moon will be back in position, and I need to decide what the hell I’m going to do.
Stay or go.
Dax as lover or Dax as friend?
My dream or his.
“You okay there, Gems? You’ve gone a little white.” I look up to see that Dougie has retreated back upstairs, and I’m once again alone with Dax.
“I have a question for you.” My heart is sticking with its deafening lub-dub, lub-dub.
“Okay.”
“Theoretically. If I could bring your store back, exactly as it was before but even more successful, but it meant you and I had to go back to being friends, would you want me to do it? Hypothetically. Completely hypothetical.”
Dax studies my face. “That seems like a very Don Corleone–like question?”