“Hey, I haven’t asked you yet.” She pointed at something behind me. “What’s that?”

I glanced back and saw her pointing at the drawn curtain over my nest. Nerves fluttered in my belly, which was stupid. It wasn’t like it was a big deal, but would she think I was total loser if I told her I’d literally built myself a blanket nest to hide in when I was feeling particularly shitty?

“Nothin’.”

She gave me a droll look. “I could just go look myself. Or… instead, I could go look in that closet upstairs—”

“Okay, fine. I’ll show you.” Better she saw this than my Room of Shame. I heaved myself off the couch and extended a hand to help her up. “So you really haven’t just looked behind the curtain already?”

“No, of course not.” She kept hold of my hand for a few seconds before clearing her throat and letting go. “You’re entitled to your privacy. I haven’t looked anywhere you didn’t show me on the tour. Like your mysterious closet. Or the door off the laundry room that clearly leads to a backyard.”

“Oh, shit. I didn’t show you the yard?” I started walking over to the cubby, and she followed. “Sorry. I don’t go out there much.”

“I could tell,” she said with amusement. “It looks a little overgrown through the back window.”

I stopped by the curtain and shot her a mock glare. “Demiurgus like their gardens to be all wild and stuff. It’s no worse than any of the neighbours’.”

“No, I liked it. It looks like a tiny jungle. I bet there are some cool plants in there.”

“I’ll show you tomorrow.” I highly doubted I’d remember offering that tomorrow, but hopefully she’d remind me.

Grabbing the curtain, I pulled it back to reveal the little cubby built around a stained-glass window in the corner of the living room. It was a pretty simple structure, but I’d layered blankets and giant pillows on the base, and covered the unfinished wood walls with tapestries. There was a little lip around the edge for lanterns—open-flame candles wouldn’t be too smart in here—and an ashtray just under the window.

“You made yourself a blanket fort?” Beryl asked, biting her lip.

“It’s not a fort. It’s a nest.” I gestured at it. “Get in and you’ll realise the superiority of a nest.”

She hitched up her giant onesie and crawled in, one of her slippers falling off in the process. I made a fumbling attempt to grab it, but there was no fucking chance when I was this high. Bending down, I picked it up and handed it to her as she settled down cross-legged and looked around.

“Okay, this is nice.” She looked at me. “Get in here with me.”

“’Kay. Hold on.” I went back over to the couch to grab a joint and the matches, then crawled into the nest with an embarrassing squawk of nervous laughter. “Seems a lot smaller with two people in here.”

Beryl shifted back while I awkwardly tried to get all my long limbs inside so I could pull the curtain across. We shuffled around, trying to get comfortable in the cramped space. Beryl almost kicked me in the balls when she stretched her legs out to slide backward. My foot clipped her knee when I hoisted a leg over her, and I mumbled an apology.

We ended up facing each other, leaning against opposite walls, with Beryl sitting between my spread legs and my feet pushing into the wall either side of her. My ears fluttered frantically as I cleared my throat, making sure my onesie hadn’t ridden up. I was wearing sweats, but… she was between my legs. A few feet away, but still.

This was weird.

And terrifying.

But it was also… really nice being in this tiny space with her, with the curtain drawn and the window shut to block out the rest of the world. I cleared my throat and struck a match to start lighting all the candles in their lanterns, filling the nest with a warm, soothing glow.

“Did you build this?” Beryl asked, running a small hand along the lip under the window.

“Uh-huh.” I lit the last lantern and blew out the match, dropping it in the ashtray.

“How come you built it so small? You can’t even sit up straight, and you definitely can’t stretch your legs in here.”

I shrugged awkwardly. “Wanted it small. I come in here if I’m having a bad day. You know, just feeling shitty or had an asshole client.”

She was quiet for a moment, then said, “You haven’t been in here for a while then. Not since I moved in, I mean. So that’s good.”

I shrugged again, keeping my head bent as I fiddled with the box of matches in my hands. Then I heard myself mumble, “Yeah, well. I dunno. I guess you make me happy, or whatever.”

There was a long pause, during which I wanted to kick out the window, wriggle my body through it and start a new life somewhere else. Then I felt Beryl rest her small hand on my knee.

When I reluctantly looked up, her green eyes looked glassy in the candlelight. But that was probably just the shade.

She swallowed, and her voice sounded a little thick as she said, “You make me happy too, Greid.”

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter Twenty

Greid

As I stared at her, my hearts started going nuts. Before I could stop it, my gaze drifted down to her mouth.

Should I ask if I can kiss her? No. No! What the fuck, dude? She tells you that you make her happy and your response is to try and stick your tongue down her throat? You total creep.

Not to mention the fact that we were both high. And her saying I made her happy did not mean… anything. She meant our friendship made her happy. Living here made her happy. She’d given absolutely no indication that she thought of me as anything more than a friend. And a roommate.

Man, that was more depressing than it should have been. I should have just been happy with her friendship. Grateful for it. It was wrong of me to long for anything more, and I absolutely could not ever tell her. She was living in my house, for fuck’s sake. Completely reliant on me for the time being. It would feel like I was… leveraging the power I technically had over her to coerce her into something she didn’t want.

The thought made me want to squirm in horror. God, no. I couldn’t ever even hint that I liked her in that way. It would make her wildly uncomfortable. Probably make her worry that I’d kick her out if I didn’t get what I wanted. Especially as I had insisted so vehemently that this arrangement was completely non-sexual in nature.

Maybe I could just ask to give her another hug? Friends do that, right? Hug?

But no. Still weird and wrong. Because I would not just be feeling friendly if I hugged Beryl.

I jumped when her hand shifted on my knee. Tingles raced over my whole body as it slid down a little to squeeze my calf.

I heard Beryl swallow, then hoarsely say, “Greid…”

“Want another joint?” I blurted, already jamming it between my lips and fumbling for a match.

She paused, then slowly slid her hand off my leg and sat back. “No, I’m okay, thanks.”

“Cool, cool.” My voice cracked with nerves and utter disappointment. Nothing could ever happen between Beryl and me, even if she ever hinted at wanting it.

For multiple reasons. Not just because of the living situation. I had to remember that. She was human. I was a demiurgus. We didn’t fit.

Even though… fuck, it felt like we’d fit. It felt like we’d be so good.

After dropping the match into the ashtray, I sat back and took a long drag of my joint, closing my eyes and trying to shake off the funk I’d fallen into. We’d been having an amazing evening. I couldn’t ruin it now by getting all mopey. I couldn’t ruin Beryl’s good day.

“Oh, shit.” My eyes popped open, and I reached over to fumble for the little latch on the window, pushing it open. “Sorry.”