Page 103 of Should the Sky Fall

“No, thank you,” Dawson says, reminding himself to take deep breaths. “I haven’t painted in years. I have nothing new to offer.”

Something in his voice must’ve alerted Ellis, because he backs off.

“Okay. Sorry for being nosey.”

“It’s fine,” Dawson says. “Are you staying? There’s dessert. Lava cake.”

Ellis does stay. The rest of the evening carries out in a more subdued spirit, some of the tension from before remaining, but not suffocating them.

“Do you have Cal’s office now?” Dawson asks.

“For the time being, yes. Actually,” Ellis points a blueberry sauce covered fork at Cal. “If you wanted, you could come to work? Just to look around, see if anything clicks.”

A ball of anxiety settles in Dawson’s belly. He must be the worst person on the planet for thinking this, but Jesus, he doesn’t want stuff to click for Cal. He really doesn’t.

“I don’t know…” Cal says, frowning.

“I’m not forcing you or anything. Also, some of the employees think that the whole amnesia thing is a joke. Apparently it sounds like a movie script.”

“That’s so rude,” Dawson says. Cal has been coping exceptionally well with being thrown into the unknown, but those people can’t know that. It’d be really disrespectful if it happened to someone who struggled hard to adjust to their new reality.

“There are movies about this?” Cal asks with curiosity, oblivious to Dawson’s chagrin.

“Oh, yeah,” Ellis says. “50 First Datescomes to mind. But that’s a comedy, a little over the top.”

“That’s such a good one,” Dawson grins. There’s no going wrong when Adam and Drew play together. “And alsoThe Vow.”

“Which one is that?”

“The one with Channing Tatum.” When Ellis just looks at him blankly, Dawson says, “Rachel McAdams.”

“Ah.” Ellis’ eyes light up with recognition. “Yeah, I know.”

Dawson snorts. “Typical.”

Ellis lets out a gasp of mock offense. “You’re drooling over Tatum, and I’m typical?”

“Who’s Tatum?” asks Cal.

“Every woman’s—and non-hetero man’s—wet dream.” Ellis rolls his eyes.

“He’s cute,” Dawson says with a pout. Ellis isn’t wrong, though.

“Cute, huh? Built like a tank, you mean.”

“Stop it,” Dawson orders, not really wanting to discuss other men in front of his amnesiac husband and his annoying brother.

By the time Ellis stands up to leave and thanks Dawson for dinner, the air is mostly clear, although Ellis does give him a pointed look when he says goodnight, and that they can let him know if they need anything. Dawson acknowledges it with a nod, and then it’s just him and Cal again. Well, the two of them and a pile of dishes.

Cal practically elbows Dawson out of the way when he tries to prewash them before putting them in the dishwasher.

“You cooked, I’ll clean.”

Dawson, who’s not used to eating this much and feels like he’s pregnant with a baby elephant, doesn’t argue for once and goes to collapse on the sofa.

“What setting should I use?” Cal asks when the dishwasher is loaded.

“Sixty-five should do it.”