Pity. My favorite thing to hear from a lover after sex.

I shook my head, still not looking at him. “I’m fine. I’ll let you get back to your Sunday.” This time I did turn around, wanting him to see that I wouldn’t cross that line in the future. He was my tenant for fuck’s sake, I shouldn’t have done this. “It won’t happen again.”

“Don’t go, Easton.” There was just a hint of urgency in his voice. Knowing that Patrice was just as fucked up about whatever we were doing as I was only made me more tired.

I sighed as I looked around for my clothes and then remembered I’d left them downstairs.

“What am I going to stay for, Patrice? So you can fuck me again and then let me know immediately after you regret doing it? No thanks.”

To his credit he looked contrite. I wasn’t even sure why I was blowing up at him. It’s not like he’d asked me here. I’d showed up at his door after making all kinds of assumptions. I deflated, remembering who it was that I’d seen him with. Patrice was right about us. There was too much stacked against us.

“I’m going to go, Patrice. I’m sorry about Ari. If there’s any way I can help let me know. I have a good friend from law school that does immigration law in Rochester. I can get in touch with him. He does a lot of pro bono work.” Patrice looked surprised and I thought he was going to say something, but he just nodded.

“All right. I’ll walk you down.”

I started for the stairs before I humiliated myself any further. “Don’t worry about it. I have to run anyway. I’m supposed to be at a family event and I am ridiculously late, I should’ve been headed there instead of barging into your house, coming on to you—”

Patrice made an exasperated sound as he moved to follow me downstairs. “You didn’t come on to me. I was right there with you and wanting the same things you wanted.”

When I looked around his living room trying to find my shoes I recalled that I’d come to his house in nothing but gym shorts and a T-shirt. Embarrassed by just how fucking ridiculous I’d been, I finished getting dressed as fast as I could and was heading to the door within seconds. Patrice stood in his living room watching.

“Easton, don’t leave angry. Things don’t have to be like this between us. I want us to be friends. I—”