Page 136 of Down Bad

“If you say so.”

“There doesn’t have to be enemies lurking in every corner of your life.” I scoot up closer to him, our hips touching. “Maybe I’ll teach you how to smile more often.”

He eyes me. “I’ll be smiling when we finally eat. I’m starved.”

“You’re cute.”

“And starved.”

“But mostly cute.”

He drops his knife and grabs me, causing me to laugh, and the two of us get lost in a mess of kisses against the sink.

Dinner is slightly delayed.

But when we enjoy it, Diego proves he wasn’t lying. I get the biggest smile out of him as he chows down on our meal of pasta tossed with fresh sautéed vegetables—a personal favorite of mine that makes me feel at home no matter where I am.

Hope that feeling of home seeps into him with every bite.

Afterwards, he takes it on himself to do the dishes despite my insisting we can leave them for later. “There’s no ‘leaving for later’ when I’m here,” he insists, his tone extra loaded for some reason, like he’s saying something else I don’t get. I snort, shrug it off, and join him by clearing off the table and the countertops.

He stops on his way to the trash. “You seriously never go out there?”

I look back at him from the sink, then notice him by the door leading out into the garage.

I shrug. “Maybe someday.”

“Sounds like never.”

I toss the dish rag aside. “If you want to risk a long trip to the hospital tonight on account of a kiss from a black widow or brown recluse or another nightmare lurking between my dad’s things …”

“I doubt there’s anything like that out there.”

I come up next to Diego, gazing at the door. After a second, I let out a sigh. “I promise I’ll … I’ll go out there someday. Not never. Definitely someday. Perhaps when I finally come to terms with the fact that my parents … likely will never come back home.”

He seems to take a second with that, says nothing, then pulls me in for a hug. “Don’t worry about it,” he decides. “You don’t got to open that door ever again if you don’t want to.” Then his lips get close to my ear. “But if you do, I can be here with you, Wyatt. Don’t gotta do it alone.”

I enjoy the warmth of his arms enclosing me against his body.

Even though I’m not sure I meant what I said so deeply. Like I’m afraid of opening some deep, painful scar by opening that door to the garage.

But maybe I’ve also been lying to myself.

Protecting my own feelings by denying they’re there at all.

What if going out into that garage does scare the shit out of me, because I don’t want to think my parents really did just leave? When is the last time they called to check in? What did they say when I asked when they’re coming back?

These are questions I don’t think I’m ready to have answered.

Maybe that’s exactly why I won’t go out there. Diego can see right through me. It was never about deadly spiders.

“Do you want to stay over on purpose?” I ask.

The hug he’s still giving me grows stiff. “On purpose?”

“Yeah. Not on the couch. In my bed. Like normal people. You and me. Sleeping.”

“We haven’t slept in a bed before?”