Where We Left Off (Middle of Somewhere 3)

It could wait, I decided. It could all wait until after finals, when we could really talk.

“Nothing,” I said. “I just like being here with you.”

He reached for my hand in the darkness.

WILL HAD never come to see me on campus, so I was surprised when, lying in bed, I looked up from my calculus book a few days later to find him at my door. He looked out of place in the dorm hallway, surrounded by scrubby students in sweats and jeans with dirty hair and harried expressions, where he wore black ankle boots, a black-and-white houndstooth shirt tucked casually into gray wool pants, and a black overcoat.

“Hey!” I started to stand up but somehow got all tangled in the sheets and kind of slumped back down. Will smiled and stalked over, pressing me back to the flimsy mattress and kissing me deeply.

“Mmm,” he murmured into my mouth. His cheeks and hands were cold, and I tried to pull him down into the bed with me, but he resisted.

“You don’t have class until three, right?”

I nodded, ridiculously pleased that he’d remembered my schedule.

“Want to come with me to look at this space Gus wants to set up business from? It’s not far from here.”

“Okay, sure. Let me put pants on.”

Will raised an eyebrow and slid a hand beneath the covers, groping me. He pouted when he realized I was wearing pajama pants, but reached inside the waistband and stroked me gently.

“Gah,” I said, hardening for him.

Will “Mmm”ed and leaned in to kiss my neck. There was something ridiculously hot about lying sprawled in my bed in my pajamas with Will looming, fully dressed, having his way with me.

“Oh, oops, sorry” came Milton’s voice from the open door. He didn’t sound sorry, though. Will, being Will, didn’t stand right away, lingering long enough to press one more kiss to my jaw and give me a squeeze beneath the covers that practically made me swallow my tongue.

“This must be Will,” Milton said in a voice calculated to express maximal scorn, leaning in the doorframe to show himself off to his best advantage.

“This must be Milton,” Will said dismissively, straightening up and squaring his shoulders.

Milton narrowed his eyes, looking Will up and down, and Will faced off, not trying to disguise his once-over of Milton either.

“I basically hate you,” Milton said, “for the way you’ve treated Leo.”

“Milton, man, come on,” I started, actually managing to get out of bed this time, wanting to at least be standing in case things got ugly.

“I basically like you,” Will said evenly, “for being a good friend to Leo and for not dressing like a tsunami has decimated every store selling anything besides track pants and school-affiliated sweatshirts.”

“God, right?” Milton rolled his eyes toward the hallway where Will was looking. “This is New York, for fuck’s sake. Have a little respect.”

Will inclined his head approvingly.

“Um, okay, glad you guys’ve met. I have to get dressed now.” I looked at Milton.

“Well, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” Milton said, his implication and its challenge to Will clear.

But Will just smiled and said, “Then I’m sure you understand that once Leo’s naked, I’m not going to be able to resist being all over that ass. So unless you’d like to watch, you might want to excuse yourself.”

Milton’s eyes went wide and I flushed hotly, letting out a nervous laugh as he tried to retreat with dignity. Point: Will.

THE PLACE that Gus wanted them to rent was an office in a coworking space near the Tenement Museum on the Lower East Side. He and Will both thought it was important that they have a physical space to work from so they could invest in supplies, have a place to meet with clients, and have an address where things could be delivered. Even if they’d had the money to rent their own space, they didn’t want to commit to a long-term lease in case things didn’t work out.

It was a converted warehouse space, open on the first floor, with banks of tables full of people typing away on laptops and congregating around screens. In the back were offices for permanent staff, and a shared kitchen, bathroom, and lounge space scattered with smart, modern-looking couches and poured cement tables.

Upstairs were the offices for rent by the month that Will and Gus were interested in. There was a courtyard, and as Will paced out the space, I could see him picturing how he’d set up here. He asked a lot of questions, about Internet speed, tech support, and hourly availability, and took his time looking around.

“What do you think?” he finally asked me.

“Me? Oh, um, yeah, it’s really cool.” I had no clue what possible insight I could have.

“If you came to meet with a potential collaborator at a place like this, what impression would you have of them?”