Page 61 of Yard Sale

“Did you drink it all?”

I sighed and leaned forward. “No. I’d be shitting my brains out if I did. I brought out the carafe. Full cup?”

He nodded, and I filled his mug, and then he tipped it back like he had earlier—like the coffee was the only reason he was going to be able to survive the day.

“Did you sleep like shit?” I asked.

He looked surprised as he set his fork down. “No. Why? Do I look that bad?”

“No. But you’re raw dogging black coffee like it’s going to make you money on OnlyFans.”

He choked. “Wow. Uh…I don’t know how to respond to that.”

My face heated. I was being too much again. Fucking damn it. “I just wanted to make sure last night wasn’t too weird. You know, sleeping in my bed. With me. My dad said you can use his room if you want.”

“I feel like that’s weirder,” he muttered. “But if you want me out⁠—”

“You can stay. You’re good at cuddling,” I blurted, then slapped my hand over my face. I was going to carve out my own tongue, I swear to god.

Tiago’s cheeks pinked, but he didn’t look upset. He was clearly fighting off a smile. “I passed right out, but you must have been good at it, too, because I didn’t wake up.”

Silence fell again, and I had no idea what to fill it with. After an actual eternity, the silence got more awkward, and when I cleared my throat, Tiago jumped.

“Sorry.”

“No. This is just…” He trailed off with a shrug. “This isn’t how I pictured my summer going.”

“What would you be doing normally?”

“Jerking off, skipping showers, avoiding my GM trying to talk me into sponsorship photoshoot bullshit,” he said. “With any luck, doing the rounds with the cup, but even without my fucking knee, I knew that wasn’t going to happen this year.” He went quiet. “Sorry. Too much hockey, eh?”

“Nah. You’re better than my dad.” I pressed my hands to the table and pushed myself up to stand. “How sucky is it for you to walk with the brace on the sand?”

Tiago’s brows furrowed. “Uh…why?”

“The beach is like ten steps away from the pool. I thought it might be a nice walk.”

He hesitated, then said, “I’m actually supposed to be using the brace less. My PT team isn’t happy with me for being such a giant baby about my recovery.”

“Want to go build sandcastles?” I asked. There was a cabinet on the porch full of beach toys for whoever in the family brought their kids.

“Wait. Really?” he asked. I was about to apologize for being so fucking weird, but before the words left my mouth, he stood up. “Yes, I want to build fucking sandcastles.”

I laughed, but only because if I didn’t laugh, I might have actually cried.

CHAPTER 15

TIAGO

I wasn’t a hundred percent sure my PT team would approve of me walking on the beach without my brace, but it didn’t feel too bad. I brought my walking cane with me and leaned heavily on it, taking it slow where the sand was loose and deep. But the hard pack wasn’t too far from Aravind’s backyard, and he didn’t take us far.

He hefted a massive bag over his shoulder and let it drop a couple of feet from where the waves were lapping at the shore, then spread out a towel so we could sit.

Leaning back on my arms, I tipped my face up toward the sun and let the warm rays settle over my skin. I needed this desperately. I hadn’t realized how far away from life it would feel to be sitting beside the ocean, but it was almost like I was in another world.

“Could you live out here?” I asked when I heard Aravind shuffle back to the towel.

He hummed as he rummaged around the bag. I couldn’t see him from where I was sitting, but I could hear the gentle clacking of plastic sandcastle molds. “I think this place is too small for me.”