Page 80 of These Wicked Hearts

“With your bare hands no doubt.”

“Yeah, you can watch my manly muscles flex as I work. You’re such a slut for my arms.” I snort. “Then we’ll teach kids how to play hockey, or you can give them guitar lessons.”

“I can play the piano too. And the trumpet, actually.”

“See! Perfect.”

“All with our six bullmastiffs.”

“And one bulldog we’ll name Freginold. Freggie for short. The rest will be fosters.”

“I . . . don’t know what to say to that.”

“Say yes to our dreams, Gage! That’s what you say.”

I smile for a moment then chew my bottom lip.

“Yes.”

Atlas: Are you asleep? I know the time difference is about three hours. Sorry.

I look at his message and smile, wiping the sleep from my eyes. I tap his number and listen before my lungs ease, hearing his voice.

“Hey.”

“Sorry it’s late.”

“It’s okay.” I smother a yawn and sit up in bed, leaning over to turn my light on. “Are you okay? You fell hard tonight.”

“Yeah, that was nothing. I just wanted to hear your voice, I guess.”

“Are you happy to be coming home this weekend?”

“Yeah. I miss my apartment. It’s my least favorite part of playing—not going to new places but like, traveling between them. I usually bring comics with me, but I always forget to pack them. Which is fine, they just end up ruined from the travel most of the time. I’ve just been doomscrolling and watching your music videos.”

“My music videos?”

“Yeah, it’s funny. Like, I know it’s you, but it feels like I’m watching someone else. I know it’s a persona, but still.”

“You don’t sound very impressed. Many people would love a chance to take Death home.”

“Yeah, well, I only want to take you home, Gage.”

A warm rush of soft heat fills my stomach. “Well, you can always call me. You know that.”

“You’re busy. I don’t want to call you every time I think about it.”

“I don’t mind. I can usually text, if nothing else.” I’ve spent my days walking around this apartment, writing a little and avoiding my friends. Chen and I are going out in the morning. He wants to do some shopping. Atlas’s birthday is next week, so maybe I’ll find something for him.

“Thank you.”

“Where’s your roommate?”

“I guess he has family here, so I’m alone tonight.”

“Are you thinking about what you shouldn’t be?”

His heavy sigh makes my chest ache. “Yeah.”