I wave at Aiden as she switches her hips painfully down the side of the building. I think it’s kind of amusing that even after the hell I put her through today, her need to be the center of every man’s attention is still prominent in the way she walks.

Even though I know that’s just the way her body moves, it makes me wonder how many times it’s gotten close to getting her into trouble when I’m not around.

I shake my head and step back inside once she’s safely out of view. I don’t have anything else planned for the remainder of the evening. The piece really can’t be finished at this point without Aiden and I don’t want to bother her about that until after the fight.

I’ve pushed Penn off until the night of, and from what Aiden tells me, I’ll be lucky if he even acknowledges me again when the time comes.

Fuck it.

I decide the best thing to do is just pick up around the place and call Ernie to come get the trash out of the dumpster.

I like Ernie, though he’s a bit of an oddball. He runs one of the local morgues and I pay him a good amount of money to have whatever is left over from my art incinerated in his crematorium.

I start on the bottom floor because that makes the most sense. I don’t really do much down here, but there’s still some dusting to be done. Once that’s taken care of, I decide to head up to my workshop. That particular part of the building is never really dirty or unkempt, but the barrels still need to be rolled outside and the trashcans still need emptying.

Ernie always brings me new barrels and shit when we trade out the garbage so I’m never at a loss for what I need.

Plus, it’s just nice to be able to talk to someone every now and then that isn’t Aiden. Even though I love her to death, sometimes the same conversations with the same person can become rather monotonous.

I don’t bother checking on my project before I leave the room. The condition hasn’t changed in a couple of days because I’ve been too starry-eyed and destitute to work on it. As long as it’s breathing—and it still is—that’s the only thing that matters.

With a whistle, I drag the barrels and garbage to the elevator and take the slow ride down to the second floor. In a weird way, I’m hoping that maybe Penn didn’t listen to me and that he’ll be waiting, but it’s not a disappointment either when I don’t find him in the hallway.

I guess he has more discipline than I do. Request to stay away or not, I would have been knocking on his door by now—just to see his eyes for a few moments.

But he’s much different than I am that way. While I spent most of my time in the same spaces as him, I would steal glances like a young boy in love, while he would spend his time not realizing it.

Or so I had thought until last night.

A smile crawls across my face as I begin to dust the living room. This particular spot has never seen so much goddamn use except for the past few days when I’ve had more company than I can usually deal with.

With a happy sigh, I turn to the recliner and think about how it seems to be his favorite part in my home. I lean down and inhale deeply, hoping to find his scent still lingering, but it seems to have climbed onto Aiden’s skin and left with her.

It’s okay.

In a few days, everything will be normal again and he’ll come back. At least I hope he does. I don’t know if just the taste that I was given the night before would be enough to satiate my need for him.

Maybe just one more time if that’s all I can get.

I walk around and head to the couch, picking up the pillows and punching them a couple of times before they’re to my liking, then set them back down again.

Nothing spectacular ever happens on this damn thing so I know it doesn’t need any special attention.

I stretch my arms over my head before I head toward the back of the space and proceed to pick up the bathroom. When that’s done, I don’t even bother with my bedroom.

The bed smells like two of my favorite people right now and I’d rather not fuck with that.

I pull the garbage bags down the hallway then get to work in the kitchen, deep-washing as much of it as I can. I’m not a germaphobe by any means, but I like to keep a tidy home when possible.

Was this place neat when they came over the first time?

I sigh as I finish sweeping the floor. That’s going to fucking bug me now, but I’ll ask Aiden tomorrow when I see her.

I empty the trashcans and place new bags into them before I wash my hands and call my buddy to swing by.

“I’m already outside, Gray. Tuesday nights seem to be garbage nights for you.”

I laugh and disconnect the call, picking up all of the bags and walking into the hallway again. I press the button for the elevator then step inside and turn the key that will keep the doors open while I haul everything inside.

It never takes me long to do and before I know it, I’m downstairs and stepping into the crisp, night air, bags in hand, being greeted by the strange man that I sometimes see as my friend.

Mostly he’s a business associate, but he’s so damn kind that I can’t help and hope that he thinks of me as a friend too.

“Hey, man!” I call out to him, a grin on my face.

Ernie nods as he takes a drag on his cigarette. He looks a little nervous; paranoid even, and it slows my walk to a halt.

“What’s going on man?” I ask curiously.

“Um, I ... I found something in your dumpster when I was loading the shit into my truck. I was kind of hoping I could keep it,” he says, shuffling his feet against the pavement.

“Huh?”

My face wrinkles in confusion as I drop the bags and walk over to the dumpster, lifting the lid and peering inside.

“Oh shit,” I say, the blood draining from my face.

Ernie comes over to stand next to me and peers inside again before he purses his request.

“Can I keep it? I’ll be discreet—you know you can trust me, man.”

Little Julie, the corner whore, tossed into the dumpster. Fell down the stairs and lies your reward.