“What’s wrong?”
He looks up at the sound of my voice, shoving his phone into his back pocket.
“Got my work schedule for the next week followed by a flash of what the next fifty years of my life are going to look like.” He forces a smile, but his eyes give him away. He’s miserable.
“It’s my problem to adjust to, Gems.” He tugs my arm so I fall against his chest, and he wraps me in a comforting hug that both of us need. “I’ll be fine. There’s only one thing you can do, and you’re doing a pretty bang-up job of it.”
“Oh yeah?” My face stays pressed to his chest because I’m not sure what I’ll do if I meet his eyes right now.
“Yeah. You being here with me. That’s all I need.”
Chapter 27
Even before I open my eyes, I know that I’m not in my own bed.
You’d think I would have gotten used to it by now, seeing as waking up in beds that are not my own is apparently my thing now. This time, what sets me off is the blaring of “Fergalicious” somewhere far above me and the smell of men’s cologne mixed with basement musk and the sound of water running. A shower.
I stretch my hand across the cotton sheet and find Dax’s side of the bed still warm. I roll over and plant my face in his pillow, breathing in that perfect combination of cologne and soap and the lingering smells of sleeping Dax that I somehow find intoxicating. I could do this every morning. Forever. Wake up next to him.
I roll over and stare up at the ceiling just as the water turns off. There isn’t exactly a bathroom in this basement. I guess the previous homeowners were told they could increase their property value by putting one in, so they installed a shower, sink, and toilet but never finished the floors or walled any of it in, so they just linger, open and exposed in the far corner of the basement.
Dougie and Brandon never needed it until now. It’s a quirky little feature of Dax’s new bachelor pad that I find endearingly unconventional, though he finds it horrifying.
I lay for a bit, counting cobwebs, listening to Brandon’s random thumping above, and expecting Dax to climb back into bed at any moment. Maybe even wake me with some morning penis. After a few more moments go by, I start to get restless and horny, so I wrap myself in his comforter and look around for him.
He’s sitting so still that I almost miss him. He’s in a suit I haven’t seen him wear since his uncle died almost two years ago. Around his neck is a red tie that I’m pretty sure he picked up yesterday at the thrift shop. In his hands are a pair of black socks. He’s staring at them with a look that is so forlorn it makes the spots between my ribs ache.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
He looks up, and his eyes find mine, and for a moment, it’s like I can feel his emotions. The helplessness, the sorrow, the Where did I go wrong? The What will happen now? The Is this how I’m going to begin my days for the rest of my life?
However, Dax just smiles. “Got the first-day jitters.”
We both know he’s lying, and I’m lying when I say, “I’m sure it’s going to be great.”
We both keep up the faux-happy charade as we climb the stairs, join Brandon for breakfast, and walk to Dax’s bus stop.
“Give all the other tax associates hell.” I straighten his tie and give him one last kiss as the bus pulls up and opens its doors.
“I’ll see you tonight at the party.” He squeezes my hand as he boards the bus. I feel that squeeze all the way to my heart.
* * *
—
“Those don’t look like exercise clothes.”
Kiersten eyes my jeans and gladiator sandals before her eyes settle on the giant box of Nana’s doughnuts in my hand.
We’re down by the bay in the parking lot next to the marina, getting ready for our regular Saturday morning walk along the lakeshore path.
“I’d argue that we don’t really exercise when we walk,” I counter. “It’s more of a leisurely stroll.”
Kiersten shrugs. “You make a good point.” She lifts the lid of my doughnut box, revealing the assorted dozen. I hold my breath as she looks inside.
I debated buying the doughnuts. Kiersten has yet to tell me how her meeting went. I may have to boycott Nana’s indefinitely. But I craved the comfort of sugar the moment I saw Dax making sad eyes at his socks this morning.
“So…any word about the job yet?”
Kiersten picks up a pink-frosted doughnut covered in white coconut flakes. “I didn’t get it. They said it was close, but ultimately the other woman had more experience. I had a good, long, ugly cry about it last night, but I gave myself a little pep talk this morning, and now I’m feeling better. Someone will eventually give me a shot. I just need to keep trying. Right?” Her words are bright, but her voice cracks as she takes a heaving sigh.