***
Chase arrived at nine that night. I wondered if he was even going to work anymore. He was spending all night guarding my apartment building. He couldn’t possibly be working all day.
I left him out there for an hour while I got things ready and then went downstairs without warning.
When I approached him, he stood. “Everything okay?”
“I…just wasn’t having a good night. Mind if I join you for a while?” I held up the plate I carried. “I made cookies.”
He searched my face, clearly unsure what I was up to. Finding sincerity—I was having a bad night—he nodded. “Of course.”
Our conversation was slow at first, neither of us knowing what to say. I asked him about work, and he asked me about job prospects. I gave some vague responses about considering my options, and eventually, I brought the subject around to what I’d come out to share. There was a lull in the conversation, and I took a deep breath and exhaled audibly.
“I don’t know if I locked the door.”
“Tonight?”
I shook my head. “No. When our apartment was broken into. The key was on a long, red ribbon I liked to wear around my neck. I was the last one out, and I was supposed to lock the door. But I can’t remember if I did. That’s why I always check it three times before I leave.”
“You were a kid.”
“I know. And the neighborhood had a dozen break-ins in the weeks leading up to ours. Some had no signs of forced entry. Others had windows and doors broken. It probably wouldn’t have mattered either way. They still would’ve been inside when we came home. The police said if they wanted to get in, they’d have gotten in one way or another.” I shrugged. “But tonight I was trying to remember if I’d locked it again. I used to replay that day over and over in my head, trying to remember.”
Chase put his arm around me and squeezed. “What can I do?”
“Nothing. Just talking to you made me feel better, actually.”
His grip around me tightened. “Come on down anytime. I’m here between sundown and sunup.”
I heard the smile in his voice, and I turned, wanting to see it. I’d missed it so much. For a brief second, the way he looked at me, I could see that everything he felt for me was still there. He’d just buried it so damn deep, I could only catch distant glimpses of it before it was out of reach again.
Figuring I’d pushed as much for one night as I probably should, I forced myself to get up. “I’m going to head to bed. Thanks for listening, Chase.”
“Anytime.”
“I’ll leave you the plate. I figure cops get free donuts, the least I could do was give my bodyguard some cookies.”
I started on my way and then turned back. I was so thrilled to catch his eyes on my ass, I almost forgot what I wanted to say.
“Why aren’t you the man for me, Chase?”
Some day, I’d get him to tell me. Today just wasn’t that day.
***
We went on that way for another week. I’d bring him a snack, and we’d sit and talk for an hour or two on the steps of some random apartment building across the street from my place. Each morning when I woke, the plate I’d left behind was sitting outside my apartment door.
While it was great for my sleep—I’d never slept better, knowing someone was watching over me like a hawk—I began to think he’d never come around. Chase seemed content with our newfound friendship. Me, not so much. So I decided to push a little harder.
It was a misty night, and I’d made him cupcakes. I went outside to offer him his daily snack. He was wearing a windbreaker with a hood, and the craziness of him sitting outside in the rain provided the perfect opportunity.
I opened my golf-sized umbrella and held it over us as I sat on the wet steps.
“Hey.”
“It’s gross out here tonight,” I said.
“Had to happen eventually. We’ve had good weather the last few weeks.”
An unseasonably warm breeze caught the smell of his cologne and reminded me of our nights together. His chest would glisten with sweat, and the cologne he’d put on that morning would rise to the surface. I wanted to lean in and take a deep breath. But I couldn’t. It was frustrating as hell.
Losing my patience, my invitation came out differently than I’d planned. “Just come inside,” I blurted. “You don’t need to sit out here all night.”
It seemed like my suggestion was completely unexpected. Chase just stared at me. Could he really be that blind? Did he think we would just go on forever with him sitting across from my apartment all night and me delivering baked goods?
When he still hadn’t answered, I repeated myself. “Come inside. This is silly. It’s raining out, and I have a perfectly dry apartment just footsteps away. You can stand guard from the couch all night, if you want. Just come inside.”