“Where are we going?” I bit my lip, just hoping he wasn’t going to dress me up like a doll. Now that I was backing off buying new clothes, my closet looked more manageable.

And I wasn’t wasting time worrying about keeping myself looking like a magazine centerfold, which meant I could sit around parks, lean on bus stops, and spend less time hyperconscious of my body. That could only be good.

But instead, Charlie smiled. “You tell me. Where do you go thrifting?”

I stared at him. I hadn’t expected him to do more than look down his nose at my place and the things I loved. He wanted to get new teacups with me? “We don’t have to replace them right away.”

“No, but if they have something you like, you can get a start on rebuilding your collection,” he told me.

I had to blink quickly and look down so I didn’t cry. Damn his sweet heart. “Okay. Treasure Aisle is around the corner from the bookstore.”

He led me there, hand in hand. “I noticed a lot of those things had gold glue. Did you get them that way?”

I shook my head. “I like the single ones that aren’t all pretty and matching in a set, or the ones everyone else would give up on. I like making them new and pairing them with a complementary saucer.”

“Like me.” Charlie smiled. “You’re the saucer. I’m more of a coffee guy, but I like the metaphor.”

I scoffed. “Like you’re old. I like things with history, that’s all.”

“Not convincing me. Again, like me,” Charlie said with a laugh. “It’s not beauty like a catalog, but at least I have experience.”

I shook my head. “Everyone’s definition of beauty is different.”

“What’s yours?” We waited at a red light, and Charlie squeezed my hand as he looked at me.

I hadn’t thought to put it in words before, so I thought about it as I spoke slowly. “Beauty isn’t in anything so new it gleams. That’s just possibility. Beauty is in the broken, chipped, worn pieces. The well-used heart is a well-used cup. The more it’s been filled, the more it’s held—the more precious it is.”

I wasn’t sure how to bring it up, but I wanted him to know that I didn’t resent his past with Hugh. It had made Charlie who he was, and I’d always have Hugh to thank, even if a part of me was afraid I couldn’t measure up.

“I saw you as possibility at first,” Charlie admitted, but he was looking away. He raised his other arm to swipe across his face. “I think a lot of people do, with the image you always held. But you’re a lot more than that.”

“And I see the possibilities with you,” I murmured.

Charlie cleared his throat, his voice thick. “Around the corner, you said?”

“We’re nearly there,” I promised.

And how true that was. Piece by piece, we’d slowly been finding the ways we fit together. All we needed was a little glue.

“I liked the cheesy blazer I kept showing you.” I smirked. “You should have gotten it. And it would match the yellow teacup we decided belonged to Aunt Maddy.”

“The lemon cake expert?”

I grinned. “That’s the one. Three blue ribbons at the county fair. She probably has matching walls, too. Her nephews— the gay couple, of course—”

“—of course—”

“—have finally talked her into remodeling and ditching the yellow walls, but she secretly wants neon purple countertops. That teacup—and especially the blazer—would clash so horribly.” I nudged him again. “Shame you’ll never be able to scar her fabulous gay nephews. Especially with the shoulder pads.”

Charlie looked horrified. “Wait a second. Are you calling me skinny?”

I laughed and bumped him with my hip, careful not to get the bag with its breakables caught between us. “No, silly. I’m scrawnier than you, anyway.” I snaked my arm around his waist to keep him close before he could pull away.

“I don’t understand retro fashion,” Charlie declared. “We’ve moved on. Why pretend we’re still in the era of big hair and… muscle cars and lemon cake?”

It made sense for an architect to be looking at the future, but it still made me chuckle. “Some trends should come back, though. Crop tops for guys.”

Charlie stared at me. “Why? That doesn’t seem like your thing at all.”

I raised an eyebrow. “More abs on display is never a bad thing. And even guys without abs—soft tummies are adorable.”

That made Charlie crack up as he poked his own. “Phew.”

“Shut up. I’ve felt those abs.” I smirked. “Carefully, one by one.”

He was blushing now, glancing around to see if anyone was overhearing. Silly, for a New Yorker—he should know that nobody else cared what anyone else was saying. Everyone was too busy with their own business.

“I’ve missed those abs,” I purred, leaning in. We were only a few blocks away from home, but I wanted to wind him up. “And your cum-gutters.”

I didn’t even see it coming: Charlie yanked me by the arm into the next alley we passed. My heart rate doubled in moments as he backed me up against the wall, and I tried not to think about how many windows looked onto this alley or how many guys had pissed in here after a late night at Friction. It had rained this morning. Phew. That took care of one concern, at least. It still smelled awful in here, but with Charlie smelling like travel shampoo, I could ignore that.

“When you say things like that, you make me remember how long I was celibate,” Charlie breathed out. The plastic bag of paper-wrapped cups hung from his forearm next to my head as he pressed a hand to either side of me.

I grinned at him and ran my hands slowly down his sides to his hips. “What does that make you wanna do?”

“Everything.” Charlie’s body rippled forward as he ground against me and pressed me up against the wall. He laced his fingers with mine and dragged my hands above my head.

I shivered. “In what particular order?” If we got a free bonus round of sex in before he went home today, so much the better. I found myself kind of hoping Adam was out, despite spending the afternoon hoping he had a miserable time cleaning up his own mess.

“I thought we could see about that,” Charlie breathed out.

A sharp voice cut through the air. “Hey! Asshole!”

By the time Charlie let me go and I turned to see who it was, he was up in our faces. “Whoa—” I tried to stop Adam, but it was too late.

He took a wild swing at Charlie, his muscles barely restraining the coiled fury that was so clear on his face. “Get off him! You don’t get to do whatever the fuck you want!”

Charlie was backing away, his hands up slightly, but he seemed reluctant to leave me by myself. “Don’t hurt Kev, okay? We can talk this out.” The bag dropped to the ground with a clunking noise that made me wince. We didn’t seem to have good luck with china right now.

“You don’t hurt Kev! Did you hit him in the kitchen, huh? I saw the state of that place!” Adam’s cheeks were red, and his eyes red-ringed. Had he been… crying?

Before I could process that, Charlie was brushing Adam’s hands away from him, circling him like a boxer. “I never touched him. Well, not in ways he didn’t want.”

“Adam, whoa. We’re dating,” I gasped.

“So? I asked about the watermelon situation and you never answered any of my texts,” Adam hissed at me. Now he was sheltering me from Charlie in some bizarre turn of events.

I couldn’t help myself—I started laughing. “Wait, you’re—oh, my God. You read my check-ins?”

Charlie looked confused as hell, his hands hovering halfway between his sides and his face, like he wasn’t sure if the fight was over yet or not. “The what?”

“You didn’t even answer your work phone. Fuck. Is this—wait, is this really your boyfriend?”

“Duh!” I exclaimed, throwing my hands up and pushing Adam away from me. “I’m not Princess Peach, dude.” Thank God he hadn’t interrupted anything more personal. If he’d walked in last night… “And where the hell were you, if it wasn’t you that broke the shelf?”

“Of course I didn’t break the shelf!” Adam exclaimed, his cheeks flushing a deep scarlet as he folded his arms. “Are you kidding? You’d fucking kill me.”

“I was about ready to, and that’s before you interrupted hot wall sex.”

“Ah, roommate bliss.” Charlie picked up the bag and peeked inside.

“Shit. Don’t tell me,” I groaned. We’d spent a great afternoon lovingly picking up the first teacups in my new collection and imagining histories for them. It had felt like such a defining moment in our developing relationship.

Adam looked even more grouchy now as he swiped at his face and stared at the ground.

“They’re intact!” Charlie announced, and I half-hugged him.

“Thank God.” That left me with one thing to deal with—a pretty big one. “So, uh, if it wasn’t you and it wasn’t us…”

Adam grumbled, “That fucking shelf. I bet it wasn’t properly anchored into the drywall.”

Knowing how run-down our apartment was, that wouldn’t surprise me. “Ugh. And here I’ve spent a day being mad at you.”

“While I spent hours thinking you’d gotten the shit beaten out of you.”

“What?”

“Broken dishes everywhere? Blood in the hallway? They said they saw you with a guy this morning at Bubbles, and you two looked wound up about something. And then you didn’t send any safety texts. And you didn’t answer mine.”

It was my turn to blush, but my mood was soaring, too. Holy fuck. For all he acted like he didn’t care, Adam had actually worried about my safety that much? It gave me pause, and it made it a lot harder to hate him for all his annoying quirks. “Fuck. I didn’t think about it that way. Sorry.”

“It’s lucky I stumbled on you here.” Adam huffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I might have put an APB out on you.” I grabbed him around the shoulders for a tight hug, and he made a startled sound. “All right, all right. Whatever. You’re not dead.” Still, I hugged him insistently until he returned the hug.

It was hard not to notice those subtle signs of distress—like his red-rimmed eyes. And he’d been so out of his mind with anger on my behalf that I had to wonder if this had hit Adam’s hot buttons.

He’d never talked much about why he hated his parents. He’d always said they pressured him into working or joining the military so he’d be a better man, but he’d carefully danced around his sexuality. As far as I knew, even Josh and Evan and the other guys had never found out much. Josh had met his parents once and said they seemed like the average couple—nice on the outside, but God knew what had happened behind closed doors.

At last, Adam relaxed into the hug and squeezed me back, properly. “It smells like trash here. You were gonna fuck? God, you’re a horny hobag.”

“Fuck off!” I laughed, slapping his chest as I pushed him away. “God, you’re a dick.”

At least it felt like a little normalcy had returned here. I took Charlie’s hand again and waved between them. “Charlie, Adam. Adam, Charlie. Let’s get out of this gross dumpster-land.”

Charlie nodded and shook hands with Adam as they traded a few grudging words of respect on our way out of the alley. Before I could suggest coffee to warm things up between us all, Charlie handed me the bag. “I better take off.”

“Yeah?” I’d been hoping for more time with him, but even if he wasn’t going to Dubai, he had to have things to sort out after his trip. “Okay, sure. See you soon?”

“Later,” Charlie promised and leaned in to peck my lips before he strode away.

That had all felt so abrupt that I found myself staring after him. I felt none of the warmth he’d shown me one-on-one. Was that just because of Adam’s presence? Was he jealous?

“Okaaay.” Adam clapped my shoulder. “Should we go clean up that crap, then? Sounds like we have a lot to catch up on.”

I found myself grateful for his presence, for the first time in a while. “Yeah. We sure do.”

I couldn’t spend all my time wondering what was wrong with other people and how I could help. I had my own life to clean up and get back on track, and Adam’s words were a welcome reminder of that. Which reminded me of one of those things I had to tell him.

“So, I quit school.”

Adam’s response was to laugh loudly. “Did you swear at the teacher?”

“Oh, fuck off!”

Still, as we took potshots back and forth, I found myself grinning as I walked alongside Adam back to our cozy little place. Annoying little shit though he was, I was lucky to have someone like him around. I only wished I could read him better.

God… men. “Let’s grab wine and pizza on the way back. I have the feeling we’ll need it.”

Adam pumped his fist. “Bring it on.”