In the Middle of Somewhere (Middle of Somewhere, #1)(86)

I must have fallen asleep again for a minute. When I drift back awake, Will’s voice sounds different.

“He really likes you a lot.”

My first thought is to sit up and ask Will who the hell likes Rex, but then my sleepy brain catches up and I realize he must mean me. I know I should tell them I’m awake, but I can’t make myself do it. I want to hear what Rex says in response. Also, part of me is curious to hear how he and Will interact when it’s just the two of them. Sure, Will isn’t turning out to be quite the * I thought he was, but I haven’t seen much that makes me understand why he and Rex are friends either.

“Yeah, you think so?” Rex asks, his voice vulnerable. He’s stroking my hair, which feels amazing. “Sometimes he’s just so… I dunno. Like he doesn’t want me close.”

“He’s lying on top of you,” Will jokes.

“Ha, smartass. You know what I mean.”

“I do,” Will says, sounding serious. “And I think for a guy like Daniel, what he’s like when he’s drunk or tired says more about how he feels than he’ll say out loud.”

“Yeah?” Rex asks.

“Well, you saw how he went right for me today and the other night. I can tell he’s been fighting his whole life. That shit’s ingrained.”

“Well, you weren’t exactly discouraging it,” Rex says.

“Hey, man, I reacted to him. You know I don’t start fights. I’ll fight back, but I don’t throw the first punch unless I have to. You know that. Daniel… he doesn’t like it, but he’s used to it—you know, like, he throws the first punch to stop whoever from throwing the second and third and the fourth. I get it.”

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Rex asks.

“Nah. Stronger than I thought, though. When you said he was an English teacher I thought he’d be a pansy.”

“Funny, he said the same thing about you.”

“Anyway, I saw how he jumped when we startled him at the bar yesterday. He’s either been jumped a bunch of times or he’s been abused. Maybe both. Am I right?”

“It’s not your business, Will,” Rex says gently.

“That’s fine, babe,” Will says, and I resist the urge to jump up and throttle Will for the term of endearment. “All I meant to say is that for someone who’s used to fighting, the fact that he defaults to relaxing around you means something. That’s all. Besides, the way he looks at you….”

“Yeah,” Rex says fondly.

Wait, how do I look at him?

Will changes the subject even though now I’m desperate to hear more. I don’t like that he could tell so much about me, having only known me for a few hours. More than that, though, I’m curious. Because he’s right.

I never relax around people the way I do around Rex. I hadn’t really thought about it because I’ve been anxious about other shit, but I’ve never fallen asleep on anyone except Ginger. I’ve never put my head on someone’s shoulder while we were sitting next to each other. It’s never even crossed my mind. And yet, with Rex, I have. I’ve done those things and not even really thought about them. Maybe Will is right. Not only do I like Rex, but I let my guard down around him in a way I can’t even verbalize. Maybe Will’s not such an idiot after all.

I wake up the next time to Rex shifting beneath me. I sit up and look around the darkened room.

“Will gone?”

“Yeah, he just left,” Rex says, smoothing my messy hair back from my face. He stands up and reaches out a hand, pulling me up. I rest my forehead on Rex’s chest to stop my head from spinning. I guess I was a little drunk after all. Rex strokes my back gently.

“He’s not so bad, I guess,” I say into Rex’s chest.

“He said the same about you,” Rex says, and I can hear the smile in his voice.





Chapter 12


November



ON WEDNESDAY afternoon I’m in my office, trying to get some work done on one of my book chapters, and am more than happy for the interruption of my phone ringing.

“What’s the good news?” Ginger asks. She’s been texting me for days, trying to convince me to come home for Thanksgiving.

“I can’t come for Thanksgiving, Ginge. I’m sorry. There isn’t time to drive and I definitely can’t afford to fly. I’ll come for Christmas, though—sorry, Chanukah.”

“Bummer, babycakes,” she says. “Who will I eat Thanksgiving burritos with?” We usually get these amazing burritos with turkey, sweet potato, stuffing, and cranberry sauce from a weird hole-in-the-wall place near Ginger’s and listen to Elvis (at Ginger’s insistence) on Thanksgiving.

“Maybe I’ll keep the shop open and only give Thanksgiving-themed tattoos. But, like, literal ones. Like, I’ll tattoo turkeys, Thanksgiving foods, the genocide of indigenous peoples, et cetera. Whattaya think?”

“I like it. Maybe you could also tattoo Wednesday Addams as Pocahontas from that Addams Family movie where they go to camp and are tortured by Disney movies.”

“Good one!”

“Sorry, Ginge, really.”

“No worries, pumpkin. I know money’s tight. If I could afford to fly you out, I would. But if you abandon me for Chanukah, I’ll Jewish-guilt you until you’re dead. I need your ass on my couch, eating Chinese food and listening to Christmas music, or our friendship is basically over. And, lucky you, Chanukah goes all the way up until Christmas this year, so your schedule should be fine.”