The logical side of me knew he was right. There were so many things to discuss from what next when it came to me and my living/job situation to patching up what happened up all those years ago, if they could be patched or for that matter if he even wanted them to be patched. I pushed it all down, forcing myself to be the happy host, even though technically I was the guest.

His balcony was exhilarating and at the same time peaceful. Exhilarating because it was high and my active imagination thought of all the ways someone could plummet to their death from it, especially children. Not that we had kids or that we were even together, but if we did, there something about that balcony was going to drastically change, like its existence.

It was peaceful because we were outside above the fray. The noise of the cars below us was mellow and none of the exhaust smell reached this far. We were higher up than any of the neighboring buildings, making it feel even more isolated than any city life out door space could be. I’d spent far too long sitting out there in the morning as I decided what to do next.

The responsible side of me wanted to go home and apologize while begging for my job back so I could save money by both getting my things and not having to pay rent. Jobless, clothingless, and homeless were not the best combination. That was also the weak way out.

The rest of me shouted to run, that no concessions to them would be worth the consequences. I couldn’t allow them to pimp me out during my heat, probably agreeing to allow him to stealth me for grandbabies because they know best and whatever crazy notions they got into their heads lately. Not that they hadn’t been pushing me to embrace my omega role as defined by them for years. Since that fateful day when one little word on a piece of paper altered their view of me completely.

The morning sun was fully up as we walked through the door and to the little table and chairs sitting nearby. We sat, both of us nibbling on our fruit cup. It was the gross kind my mom used to get for school lunches but sitting in a pretty little dish it tasted somewhat edible. It wasn’t until I scooped up my first bite of the quiche that Parker mimicked me.

“This is delicious. You need to make this every Monday.” He snapped his mouth shut as soon as Monday escaped his lips.

Shit it was Monday, shouldn’t he be in work or at least working?

“I’m keeping you from work. I can go hang out at the library or something. I need to get my resume ready. At least it is in the cloud.” I was babbling and I knew it, but his face was unreadable and I didn’t want to stop talking until I sensed his response so I could prepare myself. “And if you have to work late, I can make my way to the coffee shop because, let’s face it I made us swill this morning.” That earned me a genuine smile and I shoved another bite of the quiche into my mouth before I ruined the moment with something stupid.

He was right. This thing was delicious. Rooming with Belinda was one of the better decisions I’d made in my life. It was official.

“I let them know last night that I wasn’t coming in.”

“I thought you went to sleep when I did.” The last thing I remembered was his arm wrapped around me so securely as his cock pressed into my lower back, but like a gentleman he did nothing about his obvious discomfort. He was cocooning me in his embrace this morning, so I assumed he stayed that way the entire night. Looked like I was wrong.

“Almost.” He reached out, grasping my hand across the table, his warmth settling my nerves almost instantly. “But I made the decision to play hooky and messaged my assistant shortly after you fell asleep.”

“So yesterday, when you said that to my parents about calling off a meeting and losing money, that was true.” I crossed my toes it wasn’t. No family dinner anywhere was worth that kind of money, especially one that ended with a blow up fight.

“Truth to an extent, I mean I didn’t lose money, I just failed to earn it.” Word mincing was on the menu along with the quiche, it seemed.

“I’m sorry.”

“And you will stop apologizing.”

He wasn’t asking. Why was that so sexy on him and so vile in all other people? Because he was mine, even though he wasn’t, but he could be or should be or… arg. I needed to just let things play themselves out.

“Did you ask me to cancel work?”

I didn’t want to answer his question, knowing he was right. I never would ask something that costly of him. As it was I planned to repay him for his kindness by filling his very pathetic refrigerator and pantry. “In essence, since I asked you to come to dinner.” I was an attorney by trade, I could mince words with the best of them.

“During a time most people aren’t working. Have I mentioned how delicious this is?” So subject change it was, much to my relief. In some ways it was like we’d never been apart, especially when he did something as classic as a transitionless subject change.

“Yes.” I was so getting the last word, which had been classic me back then before I let my position in society integrate itself too far into my subconscious. “But I agree. I owe Belinda for her tutelage.” Just wait until he tried her famous lasagna recipe. Please let us be headed in the direction that made that possible.

“As do I.”

Now was time for our talk. I was finally ready, bolstered by his love of my food and the smile that reaching his eyes.

“So, we need to talk.”