The Lock Had Opinions

"At the moment?" I said. "Trying not to fall off my couch."

Noah sat up immediately. He stayed beside me, close enough that his shoulder touched mine, but took his hand off my waist.

Grant stared at him.

"I need to speak to Miles."

"Then you should have asked Miles whether he wanted to see you," I said.

I fastened my shirt slowly. There was no dignified way to retrieve a missing button from under a cushion, so I left it to its new life.

Grant set the restaurant bag on the console by the door.

"You blocked my number."

"You have correctly identified an obstacle to visiting me."

"I thought if we could talk in person, you'd understand."

"You used my door code to come into my home without asking. I understand that perfectly."

His gaze flicked back to Noah.

"Is this why you left?"

Something cold went through me.

I stood. Noah stood too, but I touched his arm before he could speak.

"I left because you lied to me," I said. "You know that. Don't come into my home and invent a different reason because this one is unpleasant for you."

Grant looked at my hand on Noah's arm.

"I wasn't trying to blame you."

"Then stop doing it."

The paper bag began to tip off the edge of the console. Grant caught it automatically, and for some reason that small, ordinary movement made the whole scene more miserable.

He had brought my favorite dumplings. There had been a time when that would have kept me hopeful for another month.

Now the smell made me tired.

"Please leave," I said.

"Can we arrange a time?"

"You can email me. I will decide whether to answer. You cannot let yourself in again."

He nodded once, too stiffly.

At the door, he looked back.

"I didn't know you were seeing someone."

"That information was no longer yours to receive."

He left with the bag.

I locked the door and pressed my forehead against it.

Behind me, Noah said, "Would you like me to go to my room?"

I turned.

He had picked up his phone from the floor. The screen still showed the paused dance track. He looked composed in a way that made me suspect he had worked hard to get there.

"No. I would like you to help me change this stupid code before I forget again."

He came over.

"You forgot he had it?"

"I gave it to him months ago when he dropped off my laptop. I changed the number after a delivery issue and then gave him the new one. Apparently, my security system has better continuity than my love life."

Noah's mouth moved, but the smile didn't quite happen.

We found the instructions in an app I had ignored since installation. I removed the old access code and entered a new one while he read the steps aloud.

"Avoid birthdays," he said.

"There goes my entire understanding of cybersecurity."

This time, he did smile.

We tested the lock. Then I entered a separate code for him.

He watched me give it his name.

"Now you can come home without worrying about whether I've remembered to unlock the door," I said.

He looked at the screen for a moment longer than necessary.

"Thank you."

The living room seemed different when we returned to it. The couch cushions were crooked. My shirt was missing a button. Two glasses of water stood on the table as if we had meant to behave sensibly all evening.

I sat down.

Noah stayed standing.

"Did I make this worse for you?" he asked.

"You didn't invite him in."

"That isn't what I meant."

I looked up.

He gripped his phone, then put it on the table deliberately.

"You cared about him for a long time. I don't want to be something you do because you're angry with him."

It was an entirely fair question. I disliked how much courage it had probably taken him to ask it.

"I was angry with him before you moved in," I said. "Mostly, I expressed it by leaving my work phone in a drawer and sleeping late. Kissing you was much more enjoyable."

His shoulders eased a fraction.

"Miles."

"I wanted you before that door opened. I still want you now that it's closed. Does that answer what you're asking?"

He nodded, and sat beside me.

I took his hand. His palm was warm, the thumb roughened slightly from work.

"I can't pretend I have everything sorted out," I said. "I thought I was fine, and then he came in and I felt about six different things. None of them made me want to go back to him."

"You don't have to be completely fine."

I turned his hand over and traced a line across his palm.

"You're annoyingly reasonable. I was hoping for a character flaw I could exploit."

"I leave wet towels on chairs."

"I've noticed. It's a serious obstacle to our future."

His eyes flicked to mine at the last word.

I hadn't meant to say it. I didn't take it back.

He leaned toward me, then paused.

I closed the remaining distance myself.

This kiss was slower. Less surprise, more intention. When his hand settled against my face, I leaned into it before I could worry about what that revealed.

Later, we ate grilled cheese standing in the kitchen because neither of us had started dinner and I objected to ordering from anywhere Grant had ever taken me.

Noah burned the first sandwich.

"There it is," I said. "The flaw."

He looked at my mouth. "I got distracted."

"A weak defense. Continue."

He laughed and put a properly cooked sandwich on my plate.

Afterward, he found the missing button and left it beside a sewing kit on the counter. I had forgotten I owned a sewing kit. I was beginning to suspect he could locate anything in the apartment except a reason to stop being useful.

At eleven, he lingered outside his guest room.

I stopped in the hallway.

"You can sleep with me," I said.

He blinked.

"In my bed. To sleep. You have class in the morning, and I have an extremely demanding schedule of being unemployed."

His smile started small and became impossible to ignore.

"I'd like that."

He returned with his pillow tucked under one arm.

"That was fast."

"I know where I keep my things."

We got into bed awkwardly, both pretending to be experts at something neither of us had done with the other before.

Then I put his arm around my waist.

"You may as well make yourself useful."

His breath warmed the back of my neck.

"I'm happy to contribute."

I slept before I had time to invent a reason not to.