“I asked for his help.”
“With what?”
“Nothing specific.”
“Okay...” Sid found a stack of boxes to lean against and took the weight off his legs. “Why is that bad?”
Outside, a cloud covered the sun, shadowing Dante’s face. “Because it’s the kind of thing I might’ve done back in the day to manipulate someone. I mean, it never would’ve worked with Paolo, but I keep imagining what Luis would’ve thought when Paolo showed him, and it makes me want to die.”
Or throw up, Sid speculated. In the murky light of the dusty shed, Dante looked a little green. “What if he didn’t show Luis? What if he never got it or something happened to distract him? It took me a week to reply to the last message Anna sent me.”
“There’s no way he didn’t show Luis. They have this deep, special relationship. Like, they’re joined at the hip and tell each other everything.”
“That’s nice.”
Dante shot Sid a sideways glance that was as sullen as it was agreeable. “I s’pose.”
“You know, you could always send another message clarifying what you meant.”
“I know.”
“You won’t, though, will you? You’re gonna stew on it forever.”
“Probably.” Dante gave Sid a hollow grin. “But that’s my fault, isn’t it? I should’ve been clear in the first place, I just...”
“What?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
It did matter.Dantemattered. But Sid had learned since they’d met that Dante had limits on how often he could be told that he was worth so much more than the crap pile he’d assigned himself to.
He swallowed the words and considered the phone again. “Do you want me to keep this a while? Break the cycle?”
“What cycle?”
“The one where you stare at it every five minutes and convince yourself you’re the worst person in the world.”
Dante opened his mouth to say black was white, then seemed to change his mind. “Can you drop it in the pond for me?”
“I’ll give it back after dinner,” Sid countered.
“Dinner?” A glimmer of light bloomed in Dante’s dark expression.
“I have a management meeting after work,” Sid said. “But I was hoping you’d meet me at my place after? We can smoke and eat and—”
“And what?”
Sid shrugged. “Whatever. I just like being with you. That’s enough, isn’t it?”
Dante was suddenly right in front of him, crowding his personal space, hips, shoulders, and chests crushed together. “It’s more than enough. Always, you know that, right? The rest of it doesn’t matter.”
A crude quip bubbled up Sid’s throat, but Dante’s fierce gaze kept him quiet. He nodded and pressed his forehead to Dante’s. “There’s a spare key underneath the sage pot. Wait for me?”
Dante brushed a soft kiss to Sid’s temple. “I’ll be there.”
* * *
Sid detested meetings, and everyone knew it. Rhonda softened his irritation with jam tarts made with the raspberries Dante had harvested when Sid had been off his feet, but it felt wrong to eat them without him. So he didn’t, and going hungry left him more belligerent than ever.