Page 47 of Yard Sale

“Who even is this?” she demanded.

I sure as shit wasn’t going to answer that question. “Can we talk outside?”

“Yeah,” Aravind said. “I…can I help?”

I couldn’t see him at all, but I knew his hand was out, so I reached mine toward his and let out a sharp breath when our fingers collided. Touching him should not have felt that good, but god, all I wanted was to sit here and bask in the sensation.

Following him past the small lip in the floor, I closed the door behind me with a loud click, then froze on the porch. “How many people are watching from the window?”

He burst into a peal of laughter. “Just that woman.” He went dead silent, then said, “Not your girlfriend, right? Or your wife or…whatever?”

“Oh my god, I’m not a monster.”

“I don’t know your life,” he said, then stopped and cleared his throat. “Nope. No. I did not come here to be a dick. Again.”

I lifted a single eyebrow. “Why are you here? It’s late.”

“It’s nine o’clock. God, you are such an old man,” he groaned. I felt his warmth as he swayed closer to me, and I had never hated nighttime more because I wanted to see him. Even if it was just a shadow or a messy blob of whatever bright colors he was wearing.

I could have touched him, and that would have felt close to the same—hell, maybe even better—but I didn’t think I had permission for that.

I swallowed heavily. “I’m not even thirty-five yet. And this place shuts down at sunset.”

He snorted. “Fair. But you still act like an old man.”

Aravind said that with so much affection in his tone it made me weak in the knees. It took a second for me to regain my composure, and I squeezed my hands into fists to keep from reaching for him.

“So, I—” I started.

“You showered,” he said, speaking at the same time as me.

“Um. I was on a ferry all day.”

Aravind let out a heavy breath, then said, “Yeah. And I kind of made a mess out of you.”

Fuuuuuck me. I had no idea what to say to that. “So why are you here?” I asked for a second time. “Looking for a round two?”

He choked a little. “Uh… I mean. I wouldn’t say no, but you probably should.”

My heart gave a heavy thud in my chest. “What do you mean by that?”

“Only that I was a giant fucking asshole and didn’t bother to read what went to print. I trusted that Daryl wasn’t going to be a complete fucking jackass about me quitting and⁠—”

“Aravind.”

His jaw snapped shut with an audible click. Then he shuffled even closer, and I could smell soap on him. Had he showered? Was he all damp like me? God, his skin would be all warm and soft, and⁠—

“Tiago?” The sound of his voice stopped the fantasy.

Right. We were having a conversation. I cleared my throat as I attempted to process what he’d just babbled at me. “What are you trying to say?”

He huffed a heavy sigh. “I read the article. My article. I didn’t write half that shit, but I was so eager to be out of that job I didn’t bother to check what Daryl had added to it before it went to print. And it sounded terrible, and I am so sorry. I mean, I didn’t write it, but it’s my fault because I should have done my due diligence to make sure it was my words⁠—”

Fuck it. I reached out, and it took two tries, but I managed to palm his cheek and pull him closer. His words died between us, and I leaned forward to take in a deep breath of his soft, floral scent.

“It’s okay.”

He laughed, and the sound was bitter. “It was not okay. Jesus, please don’t tell me that.”