Page 69 of Hamartia

We’re both angrily silent for a few seconds before he says, again. “What’s going on with you, Rapha? What does Cam mean?” He waits me out but I don’t say a word. “Look, I know you hate me right now but I am still here if you wanna, like, talk.”

Right now, he’s the last person on earth I’d talk to about any of this.

“I’m…taking some time,” I offer. “To think about some stuff. Relationship stuff. Personal stuff.”

He makes a weird scoffing noise, like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. It makes me want to reach through the phone and punch him.

“Relationship stuff?You’re getting married in three months. The fuck do you need time for, dude?”

“Honestly, Mason, it’s none of your fucking business.”

He seems to ponder this and agree, because next he says: “Have you been writing?”

“A little.”

“So, you’re back in LA when?”

“I’ll see you at the studio on the 30th. As planned.” It comes out sharp as a knife.

“Listen, I didn’t call to give you shit.”

“No, you called because my girlfriend asked you to.”

“No, I called because I acted like a prick and I don’t know how else to say sorry, okay?”

This shocks me into silence.

“Look, Rapha, you’re my best friend. I just…ach, I don’t know. But I’m here, okay. Like if you want to talk. About whatever.”

He sounds miserable and it makes me feel guilty. Great, so I’m two from two on how shit I’ve made two of my best friends feel the last two days. Maybe when I go home, I can shit all over my mom too.

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.” It comes out sounding less than sincere. “We’ll talk when I’m back in LA.”

I sense movement behind me, and I turn.

Jae is standing at the edge of the kitchen counter, watching me closely. His eyes skip to the oven, then back to me, then at the table by the window which I’d set and prepared with I guess what looks like a romantic dinner for two. There’s a candle and some flowers and a bottle of wine chilling in the cooler. He smiles and it’s this beautiful shy thing that warms up my insides immediately.Warm and happy.That distance and coldness from this morning nowhere in sight.

“Gotta go, Mase,” I mutter before hanging up.

“Sorry I’m late. I didn’t know you had plans.” Jae gestures at the table.

“You’re not late,” I lie. He is. Almost an hour, in fact. But he’d texted and so I was prepared. Had been for the last hour. “Wine?”

He nods. “Please.”

He looks tired. Beautiful but tired. He’s dressed in a formal white shirt which is open at the neck. A flash of silver at his throat, silver hanging from both ears, and scattered across his fingers as he drags them through his hair. A rush of lust so strong moves through me that I have to plant my feet into the floor so I don’t march over to him and do something feral. I swallow hard as he moves toward me, the scent of him muted at this point of the day, but still powerful. That sweetly spiced cologne only enhanced by the smell of his skin. The expensive shower gel. The creams and lotions he pushes into his skin each night and morning. Layers of enticement that I want to peel away. Kiss away. Lick away.

I hand him a glass of the white wine. One he had in his wine fridge with a Spanish label. He takes a large sip, staring at me over the rim.

“I thought you might be hungry,” I say.

“You cooked for me.” There’s a pleased look on his face.

I shrug. “It’s only mac and cheese. My mom’s recipe.” I’d messaged her earlier for it. Said I was feeling homesick. She said she’d make it for me when I got home but had sent it anyway. “You can eat like…dairy, right?”

He grins and nods. “I can. I love it. Mac and Cheese.” He sniffs in deeply and rubs his stomach adorably. “I’m very hungry. Let me go and change, it’s almost ready?”

“Yeah, it’s done. Just waiting for you.”