A Friend in the Dark - Gregory Ashe Page 0,56

every relationship start out that way? People learned about each other as they went along. At least, Rufus thought that’s how it worked. Maybe some folks broke the ice playing Twenty Questions or Truth or Dare, or maybe that was why speed dating appealed to others.

All Rufus knew was that Sam had bought him gum after losing to a fair-and-square bet. He’d asked permission for a kiss. Asked permission for more. He’d made Rufus feel loved and beautiful last night. But even if that did mean a relationship was on their horizon, what about the fact that Sam didn’t live in New York? He’d only come to the city because of Jake’s suspicious death. When this shitshow was behind them, Sam would want to leave. He hated the city. Would he expect Rufus to go with him, back to… wherever home was? Rufus had never left the city. He couldn’t imagine living elsewhere. And considering he was a dropout with an—albeit scrubbed—record, what the fuck could he do for a living that wasn’t CI work?

Wasn’t this just fucking grand?

Rufus took a few steps forward, grabbed the mostly dry T-shirt from the desk chair, tugged it over his head, then sank into a crouched position. He held his head in both hands while trying to focus on the gurgle and sputter of coffee. Keeping that sound in the forefront of his mind kept Rufus in the here and now. It kept the panic at bay, only barely. He could feel his fingers starting to tingle and that weird, high-pitch buzz in one ear. It was the kind of panic that stole his breath and sent him to rooftops. He squeezed his eyes shut and briefly considered whether he needed to vomit, but the physical sensation was practically scared out of him when a voice broke the stillness.

“Morning,” Sam said, moving over to the Keurig, then padding around the apartment naked, as though completely oblivious to the fact that Rufus was right there. Sam picked up things. Put things down. Examined the towel he’d dropped on the floor as though he’d never seen a towel in his whole life. After what felt like two hours of consideration, he swung it over his shoulder and continued his naked inspection.

Rufus stood and waited for Sam to say something, like “Why were you on the floor?” “Why’re you as white as a ghost?” “Are you going to puke?” But none of that came. Was this like what he’d done before Sam explained his tremors—pretend you didn’t see anything?

Rufus cleared his throat and pointed a slightly shaking hand at the Keurig. “There’s coffee, but it’s hazelnut.”

After sweeping his gaze around the apartment again, Sam seemed to realize, oh, hey, Rufus still exists, and came across the room. He cupped Rufus’s face, brushed his lips across Rufus’s, and then moved back to the kitchen counter.

“You smell nice,” he said as he rummaged for a second mug.

Rufus scrunched his face up while thinking. He’d spent the last thirty minutes quietly losing his mind, and after all that… he got a good-morning kiss? So had he overthought the situation, or not panicked enough? “I showered. Not that I usually don’t.”

“Huh.”

“What’s that mean?”

Peering into the mug, Sam worried the ceramic with a thumbnail. He glanced up. “What? Oh. Nothing.”

Wasn’t this an epic clusterfuck in the making….

Rufus silently joined Sam at the counter, picked up his mug, and took a sip of coffee. He was staring at Sam as he lowered the cup.

“Are you ok?” Sam asked as he fiddled with the coffee maker. “You’re hungry. I guess normally I’m supposed to make you breakfast or something, but—” His gesture took in Jake’s loft. “So I should… go out and pick up some food?”

Rufus furrowed his brows. “Make me breakfast?” he echoed. “Why would you do that?”

“Are you mad at me? What’s going on?”

“I’m not mad. I don’t understand why you’d make me breakfast.”

The blush was barely there, just a hint, but Sam rolled those massive shoulders and played with the towel. “Yeah, that was stupid. I don’t know what to do. I kind of thought that’s what I was supposed to do, you know, when someone stays over.” Yanking the towel down from his shoulder, he took off for the bathroom. “I should get dressed.”

Rufus put his mug down with a clatter. He spilled coffee across the countertop, the floor, and his hand. He hissed and shook his fingers while following after Sam. “Hang on. That wasn’t stupid to say.”