Offensive Behavior

Zarley woke in Reid’s big bed in his darkened bedroom. No Reid and no sign of him having been beside her recently. She rolled to get a look at his clock and got a surprise to see it was eye level to the bed. He had bedside tables and reading lamps.

She flopped back down. She had a bad feeling about the fire. Even if they could get back inside and found everything they owned wasn’t smoke or water damaged, there’s no way they could move back in again. Short term, Cara could stay with Gavin. But Zarley was homeless. She had tonight with Reid and then she’d have to couch surf with Kathryn or Lizabeth, probably both of them in turn.

She starfished her arms and legs. It might be a while till she had so much room to move again. She needed to get up and get organized.

But it would’ve been nice to start with a hug, with Reid’s enthusiastic arms, his big wide chest, to burrow into.

“I didn’t want to wake you.”

As though she’d summoned him by longing, Reid lounged in the doorway in a pair of faded blue jeans with the knees blown out and a well-washed and faded t-shirt with the Plus logo and the words Better Together printed on it.

She felt like she’d been caught out daydreaming when she had bigger issues. “I need to get moving.”

“Not on my account.”

“I have things to do. I have a term paper to finish. I need to call Cara. I need.” A hot shower, coffee, food, knowledge of what happened to people who got turfed out of their apartment without it being their fault.

“Anything you need that I can do, you got.”

Better Together. They weren’t that, they were a thing. He had other words on his chest about being alone and apart. She sat up, bringing the sheet with her. “You’re not responsible for me.”

The sleepy-eyed look he gave her was anything but. “Not responsibility I’m feeling.”

She shook her head. “Sorry, this is not—”

“Nothing to be sorry about.”

“I’d like to go past the apartment. Call the fire brigade. I do have to finish a term paper. Maybe I should get myself together and go.”

“Why?”

“Because despite the shirt, you didn’t sign up to be a white knight.”

He glanced down, then pushed off the doorway. “Coffee is ready.”

“And you don’t need a damsel in distress. You want a damsel who knows her way around sex.”

“I didn’t sign up for a warm body. I signed up for you, Zarley. And if you have stuff to do then I’ll either help you do it or I’ll wait.” He turned his back on her. He would’ve missed the way her mouth dropped open. Better together indeed. He said, “Coffee is up,” from the hall in a distinctly pissed-off tone.

She got herself upright, chose the least smoky smelling t-shirt and her jeans and went to the kitchen. He had rugs. He had a new sofa.

A very funky chunky glass dining table that looked like an elongated letter C had landed in the room. She’d been aware of the apartment being different last night but now she could focus on the details. It looked great. It looked like someone lived here. Someone with money to set on fire. She stopped beside the dining table, ran her hand over the cool surface. It had to be some name designer’s piece. You only sat on the long sides, not at either end, because the thick curve of the C met the floor in a waterfall of smooth, blue tinted glass. This was the table he wanted to fuck her on. She heartily approved.

He wasn’t in the kitchen, so she found a mug and poured her own coffee. All his tableware looked like hers and Cara’s. Nothing matched, the plates were from different settings, the mugs were old, clean but stained with cracked and faded glazing. They made her feel better about being here. He had money now, but he’d once been homeless too. She went in search of him and found him in the office. This room had been full of boxes. Now he had file cabinets and a bookcase and bright red-leather easy chair. His cables were still held by Lego men though.

He sat at his desk, focused on his screen. She leaned in the doorway. A parallel to what he’d done in the bedroom.

“Hi.”

He didn’t look around. “There’s fruit and yogurt, cereal. There’s bread. Dev brought more Indian.”

“Okay.”

“You can help yourself. Whatever you need.”

“Are you going to stay in here?”

“Yeah.”