St. Nacho's by Z. A. Maxfield

Author:Z. A. Maxfield [Maxfield, Z. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: m/m romance
Published: 2012-04-25T09:33:06+00:00

* * * * *

64 Z. A. Maxfield

The doorbell rang and as soon as I brought the pizza boxes in and paid, everyone fell on the food. Stan cleared his throat and said a nice long prayer, during which I thought I saw Jordan pinching off bits of his toppings and eating them. I smiled. Some things never changed. After I got my pizza, I poured everyone lemonade. We all sat around, eating and talking quietly together.

At the end of the evening, Jordie and I said good-bye to his friends. He closed the door behind Stan, who was the last to leave.

“Hey,” he said shyly.

“Hey.” I smiled. Crap, I was tired. I started to pick up paper plates, napkins, cups, and trash from the living room floor. Jordan leaned against the wall, watching me.

“This is weird, huh?”

“Yeah, a little. But it’s just us, Jordie, like always.” I tossed some things into the tiny plastic trash bin under the sink. “We’ll need a bigger trash bin for the kitchen, I think.”

“Have you ever lived in a place like this?” he asked.

“No,” I answered truthfully. “I’ve pretty much lived on the streets for the last three years.”

“Oh, Coop.” Jordan sat down on the couch.

I went to sit next to him. “I mostly roamed around, you know? I’d find places to play for tips, then go to cheap motels when I had enough cash. Otherwise, I slept in parks and camped on the beach. The last month or so I’ve been staying in a room above a bar.”

“A bar?” he asked. “Wasn’t that hard? All that booze?”

“No.”

“I can’t imagine.”

“Anyway, they let me stay there in a studio apartment, and I helped in the kitchen and played for people during peak times in the restaurant. It was a good place.” I felt myself falling into the memories a little. Into the warmth that even now I felt when I thought of St.

Nacho’s.

“I see,” he said. “Did you live with your guy then?”

“No,” I said. “It was a studio; I lived alone.”

“So this is your first time living with someone?”

“Yes,” I answered. “Since I lived at home.”

He put his head on the back of the couch and chuckled. “I promise I won’t welcome you the way I got ‘welcomed’ in prison.”

“Jordie,” I breathed. It was as if I could feel my heart breaking.

“No, it’s nothing.” He shook his head. “Nothing I didn’t already do, right?”

“Jordan, I --”

St. Nacho’s

65

“Really,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “It’s all in the past, Cooper. You want the first shower?”

“No,” I said. “You go on.”

He hesitated. “I hope you won’t think… I want to ask you for a favor. I’m not used to being alone at night. I wondered if you’d come and sleep… I mean, just sleep, okay? In the bedroom with me.”

“Jordie,” I said, not knowing what the hell to do.

“I won’t be, like, you know… I won’t expect anything. I just want to be close. You know, a warm body. I wake up scared a lot.”

“Oh.” I thought about it.

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