“How about you eat those as takeout, hm?” Shane asked, pushing the edge of Dex’s plate so hard the other side poked his bare chest.
Dex groaned. “And go where?”
Frank inhaled so deeply his nostrils flared. “There’s pipes to be picked up from Mark Thompson’s farm.”
Dex faced Ros, but did get up. “See? I’m the Cinderfella in this house. Ordered around—”
Shane shook his head. “Just go.”
“Okay, okay,” Dex turned and strutted back into the corridor, showing off his backside in the thin boxer shorts.
“These are so good, Shane. Thank you.” He smiled, stuffing his mouth with more pancakes.
Shane exhaled and grabbed his cutlery again. “Yeah. Sorry they’re so flat, Jag ate the fluffy one.”
“Shane, stop apologizing for everything. I’m sure he’s fine with it,” Frank said curtly.
Ros nodded and stroked Shane’s beautiful hand, hoping it didn’t go against their promise to take things slow. “More than fine. I want to pull my weight here. Just tell me what needs doing.”
Shane looked his way, his thick brows high. “You don—”
“I could definitely use some help with keeping the house clean,” Frank interjected, watching Ros with dark, warm eyes. “Simple stuff, like vacuuming or washing the dishes, since most of that always falls on me.”
“Sure! I’ll be more than happy to help out. As soon as I work something out for transport, I’ll try to resume my bar job, and I’ll pay rent. There’s this guy who asked me for a portrait of his mom’s cat. It’s not exactly my specialty, but I’ll try to corner him on that, cause he offered a hundred bucks.”
Frank raised his hand, his face wrinkling when he smiled. “Rent’s not needed, kid. You’re welcome here.”
Shane’s knee pressed against Ros’s, but when their eyes met, Shane stalled, sucking on his bottom lip. “Weren’t you... didn’t you want to return to art? You won’t have time for it if you go to work every single day.”
And there it was, the harsh reality that felt like falling face-first on the sidewalk. Ros focused on the food and washed it down with juice to sweeten the truth of his situation. “I won’t, but what else can I do? I don’t have the cash for materials and I no longer have access to a studio, so it won’t even matter if I have time or not. I guess it was just a fancy pursuit anyway,” he finished quietly, but just thinking about giving up on his dream felt like standing at the edge of a deep well and sensing its cool breath. He might not die without sculpting, but life without it was devoid of color.
“Why don’t you just use some of the junk? I’ve seen people do that on TV,” Frank said after swallowing a mouthful of food.
Shane’s face flushed, and he touched Ros’s hand. “There’s a workshop here too. It’s cluttered and not heated, but... we could clear it out, and get you some gloves or something.”
Ros looked at them, struggling to ignore the frantic heartbeat drumming in his ears. “For real? Don’t you need the stuff for sale or something?”
Frank waved it off. “Nah, unless you find a diamond ring in there, take whatever you like, and Shane will tell you where… not to go.”
Because of dead bodies decomposing in barrels.
Ros tried not to think about that and smiled. “Wow, I don’t know what to say. Your junkyard is like a gold mine. There’s so much stuff here!”
“Treat it as your personal quarry. There’s so much of the stuff that it really doesn’t matter,” Frank said and made a dismissive motion with his hand.
“Yeah? Does that sound good?” Shane asked, his eyes pinned to Ros’s face.
The tension between them could have been cut with a knife, and Ros itched to lean in for a kiss that would have just complicated things. So he stayed put and smiled.
“I love that.” I love you.
If only Ros wasn’t too scared to voice that. Shane’s attempts to ensure he was comfortable proved that he was serious about changing his ways, but they didn’t necessarily mean anything beyond that. Shane might be Rosen’s first love, but he’d fallen for him without knowing the truth about Shane’s past, and since their relationship has been Shane’s first attachment following a ten-year prison sentence, it was difficult to predict its longevity. They needed more time to understand each other’s feelings and decide what to do about them.
Frank smiled. “So that’s settled then. I give Dex welding lessons. You can join if you want to.”
Shane cleared his throat and reluctantly took his hand away from Ros’s before packing most of the final pancake into his mouth, as if he wanted to give himself an excuse to avoid speaking.
Ros’s heart skipped a beat. So maybe he couldn’t afford as many traditional materials as he’d like, but if Frank really was so generous, maybe he could come up with another outlet for his creativity? He’d always wanted to create sculptures that would make the viewer feel small and insignificant in the face of art. And while he’d felt artistically stifled only moments prior, knowing that he did have resources, their limited nature was already making his creativity sparkle.