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Yeah, I’m not worried about you taking advantage of me.” “What? I could be dastardly. Don’t rule it out. I’m hurt.”
“So you are punishing me for not bending to your wicked wiles,” Eddie says, his face assuming an expression he probably thinks looks stricken but actually just looks handsomely peeved.
“Like I’d ever give you supermarket vanilla ice cream.” She and Lilian laugh, as if not wanting supermarket ice cream is a funny quirk as opposed to the only way to live.
Right now he wants to be surrounded by the memories of the life he used to have, evidence that once he was—fuck. Evidence that once he was loved.
“It’s a thriller, and everyone in it is gay,” Mark says. “And awful. The author is apparently gay as well. And awful.” He pauses and shrugs. “One relates.”
Before ten minutes have passed, Mark has committed to buying this book first thing in the morning and reading it immediately so they can be petty about it together tomorrow night.
But a lifetime of not allowing himself to want or be wanted is not a price he’s willing to pay to avoid that risk.
“If you think anything about you is disappointing to me, then I’m doing a better job than you think of hiding my feelings.”
People probably learn the word insufferable in order to talk about you accurately.”
He already knew this wasn’t his home anymore, but if the cats don’t even recognize him, then he’s really out of luck.
