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I ignored him and pushed myself upright. I tried to speak, to tell him I didn’t want him to go, but nothing came out. Typical.

Pete frowned and sat down on the edge of the bed. “What’s the matter?”

Silence. I tried in vain to articulate what I was thinking, but the words just wouldn’t come. “I don’t like you being sick?” I offered eventually.

It didn’t make any sense, and the mess in my head was far more complicated, but it would have to do.

Pete stilled his thumb on my cheek. “Why?”

It wasn’t meant to be a leading question. I could tell by his eyes that he was genuinely curious, but I didn’t know the answer.

When I was seven, I was fostered by a family who were probably the closest I came to living like a normal kid. I spent six months with them, but when the father died in a car wreck, all their foster kids went back into the care system. Aside from Ellie, since then I couldn’t remember caring about anyone, or anyone caring about me. Every intimate experience I had was detached and purely physical, especially with men, and there weren’t many I’d fucked more than once. Damn, there weren’t many I’d ever wanted to. Pete had turned my brain upside down. I wanted him… really fucking wanted him, but it was so much more than that. When he was sick, I’d suddenly realized how much I wanted to help him feel better—how much I
needed
to help him feel better—and I didn’t understand it. I didn’t understand it at all.

“Are you okay?”

I opened my mouth and shut it again, settling for a silent nod. Pete leaned down slowly and pressed his lips to mine. The kiss was soft and sweet, his lips barely touched me, but in my dopey, sleepy state it made me feel giddy. To steady myself, I grabbed the fabric of his shirt. The motion unbalanced him, bringing him closer to me, and the change in position caused the air to shift as my body reacted to him. Suddenly, my grip on his shirt was less about staying upright and more about getting as close to him as possible.

Pete held my face with both of his hands, gently tasting my lips with his tongue. Then he pulled away and rested his forehead against mine. “Shit, I’ve really got to go.”

I didn’t let go of him, and he didn’t move, but after a long moment, he finally sighed. “There’s something about you that makes me forget anything else exists.” I opened my mouth, though to say what, I wasn’t quite sure. He silenced me, placing his finger on my lips. “We’ll talk later, I promise. Just go back to sleep.”

He left, but I didn’t go back to sleep. The combination of the necessary cold shower and the big empty bed kept me awake until it was time for me to go to work too. I put my head down as I stepped outside. I hadn’t slept well while Pete had been sick. The combination of my freakish anxiety and his fevered skin hadn’t been a good one. I wasn’t looking forward to my day in the shop. I didn’t have any clients, but a mountain of paperwork was waiting for me to sort out. For a big-ass hairy biker, Ted was remarkably anal about the records he kept, and because I didn’t know how to use the computer, I’d fallen way behind. Adding it up with a pen and paper wasn’t difficult, but I was tired and distracted by the memory of Pete’s hands on me.

It was after six by the time I left the shop. I was beat. I turned toward home and the cold wind slammed into me, forcing my head down. I was in a world of my own, and I practically walked right into Pete before I noticed him blocking the sidewalk.

He grinned at me from behind his hood. “Sleepwalking again?”

“Very funny.”

“I like to think so. Are you done for the day?”

I nodded. “I was just going home.”

Pete yawned and shifted his bag to his other shoulder. “Fuck that. Do you want to get some dinner first?”

“Sure. Where are we going?”

“Let me dump my bag and I’ll show you.”

I was intrigued as he winked and remained tight-lipped. We caught the L heading north. Despite not having a clue where we were going, the soothing motion of the train combined with his thigh pressed against mine put me to sleep. We were way north of the Loop by the time he shook me awake. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and stumbled to my feet. “Edgewater? Isn’t this where your mom lives?”

Pete grabbed my arm, catching me before I fell off the train. “Yep, thought you needed some home-cooked food in your belly. I would’ve told you, but you dozed off on me.”

I ignored his amusement. “How far is your mom’s place? Will she mind me coming?”

He pointed to the left. “It’s two blocks that way and, no, she won’t mind. She always cooks enough for a party.”

Edgewater wasn’t an area I was familiar with. Unless I wanted to find my own way home, I had little choice but to follow him. Not that I was objecting. I’d eaten nothing but toast and muffins for a few days. Something hot sounded almost too good to be true.

Pete led me to an apartment block a few streets away. It was rundown, but there were little touches everywhere that made it seem homely, like the herbs planted in pots all up the stairs and the brightly painted doors. I followed him to the second floor. He fumbled with his key chain to unlock the door, but it swung open before he could find the right key. I watched, slightly alarmed, as a tiny dark-haired woman flung herself at him.

“My boy, what have you been doing to yourself?
Pietro
, you look terrible.”

I couldn’t see Pete’s face, but I knew he was rolling his eyes as he returned the petite woman’s fierce embrace. It was kind of strange to hear her call him by his Italian name in her heavy, melodic accent. I knew his legal name was Pietro because I’d seen it on his mail, but I’d never heard anyone say it. It sounded strange.

Pete set his mother gently back down on her feet. “I’m fine, Mom, I’ve just had a long day. Do you want to let go so you can meet my new roommate?”

Instantly, the woman released him and peered curiously around him. “You brought a friend?”

I took a tentative step forward, remembering the few manners I had. Pete sensed my hesitation and helped me out. “Mom, this is Ash. Ash, this is my mom, Maggie.”

Maggie smiled, and suddenly, her face was all Pete. “What a beautiful name. Welcome, Ash. Please, come in out of this cold.”

I took another step forward. She met me halfway and put her arms around me the moment I got close enough. She squeezed my ribs and clicked her tongue. “Oh this won’t do,” she said. “You both need some proper food. Come on, inside with you.”

Her tone and grip on me left no room for argument. I let her tow me into her apartment as Pete lingered behind. I glanced over my shoulder and he shot me a meaningful look, one I understood immediately. He’d told me on the walk from the L station that Maggie was terrible about breaking things and not telling him. He’d once caught her sleeping with her front door wide open because the hinges were busted. He’d asked me to distract her while he scoped out her apartment—a task I’d thought was ridiculous until I’d spent a few minutes in her company.

Maggie led me through her home and into her kitchen, talking a mile a minute and hopping from one subject to another. She was like a hurricane and I couldn’t keep up, but her chatter was warm and absorbing. The only thing that distracted me from being completely mesmerized was the amazing smell of her kitchen. It smelled like the pizza place, only better.

“What are you cooking?”

Maggie’s smile widened. She tugged me over to her stove and lifted the lids off various pans. “Ragu—Italian meat sauce with penne. It’s Pete’s favorite, but I like risotto better.”

“What’s risotto?” I said warily. Whenever I ate with Ellie’s family, I usually had no idea what I was putting in my mouth.

Maggie patted my hand. “Italian rice. It will warm your soul, honey, trust me.”

Her words sounded just like something Pete would say. “Can I help you?”

“Of course,” she said as a surprised smile lit up her face. “Will you chop this onion for me?”

I took the knife and board from her and set about cutting the onion into the small dice she’d requested. The healed scar on my hand tingled as I held the blade, but I ignored it and focused on Maggie’s rich, accented voice. I wondered idly where Pete had got to, but when he didn’t appear after a few minutes, I figured he’d found something to fix.

Maggie gave a nod of approval and inspected the onions. “I’m not used to having a helper,” she said, tipping them into the pan. “Pete likes to snoop around while I cook.”

“I don’t mind,” I said honestly. “What’s next?”

“Just stir it for me, sweetie, I’ll do the rest.”

I absently stirred while she added rice and some other stuff to the pan, and it was surprisingly soothing to my tired mind. The searching questions I’d expected to fend off never came, and before I knew it, the contents of the pan had morphed into something that looked and smelled like nothing I’d ever seen before.

Behind me, I heard a deep chuckle. I spun around to find Pete sitting at the table with a newspaper spread out in front of him. In my rice-stirring haze, I hadn’t heard him come in.

He met my eyes and grinned. “If you think stirring it puts you to sleep, wait until you eat it. I’ll be carrying your ass home.”

Maggie squeezed my arm. She’d touched me a lot since we’d first arrived, but I didn’t mind. It felt the same as when Ellie did it—nice and almost natural.

“Ignore him,” she said, sounding a lot crosser than the indulgent look on her face. “He likes all that northern food, like his dad.”

“Northern?”

“I’m from Sicily, but my children prefer the hearty dishes from the north. Must be the weather, right, honey?”

She turned to Pete who rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and the weird fish shit they eat down there.”

Maggie frowned and muttered something under her breath. Pete smirked and went back to his reading. I was mystified by the bizarre exchange, but it didn’t matter. The obvious warmth between them was nice, and even as they continued to bicker through dinner, it was plain they adored each other.

The food was amazing. Maggie said it was peasant food, but I’d never eaten so well in my life. I rubbed my hand over my full belly and yawned.

Pete chuckled. “Need a nap, fucker?”

He ducked a swat from Maggie as she rose to carry the dishes to the sink. She muttered the same phrase she’d used earlier, and I belatedly realized she was reprimanding him for his potty mouth.

I rose to help Maggie clean up, hiding my grin. Pete came to the sink to help, but she shooed him away. “Go and sit down. I want Ash all to myself.”

He did as he was told, and I found myself alone with Maggie again as I washed the dishes, faded and cracked from years of hearty family meals. Listening to her chatter about Pete was fascinating. She seemed to recognize the role he’d assumed as her caretaker, which was strange because she hadn’t acknowledged him lecturing her about taking care of herself. In that context, they seemed to dance around each other in a very strange way.

“He’s a good boy, my Pete,” she told me conspiratorially. “What he needs is to let someone take care of
him
.”

“A nice girl, you mean?”

Maggie stopped drying the cracked dish she was holding and fixed me with a familiar set of wise, dark eyes. “Whoever makes him happy. Gender isn’t important, sweetheart. It’s the soul that counts, in this life and the next.”

I was slightly stunned. Up until that moment, I’d never considered that Maggie knew about Pete’s sexuality. Though I’d observed their close relationship all night, perhaps because of Ellie’s closeted life, it had never occurred to me that he’d tell her.

Maggie turned away and opened her freezer. She pulled out a large plastic pot and handed it to me. “Coffee gelato,” she said in response to my wide-eyed, wordless question. “It’s not the same as in Italy, but it’s Pete’s favorite.”

I took the pot, peered inside at what looked like ice cream, and grinned. I was still pretty full, but despite my aching insides, I always had room for ice cream. “I’ve never had coffee ice cream before.”

Maggie smiled. “Let’s go and find Pete, then, shall we? He’s probably asleep in front of the TV by now.”

She was right, of course. Pete was slumped on the couch with his head on his arm, and by the look of him, he’d been asleep for a while. I watched Maggie pull a blanket from the back of the sofa to lay over him and noted idly that it was similar to the one he had on his own couch at home.

“He might not wake up,” Maggie said softly beside me. “Why don’t you stay? You can have my bed.”

I bit back a laugh. Pete had warned me about Maggie trying to give up her bed for him. I hadn’t expected her to try it with me, though. I was about to tell her I’d just go home, but the eager look in her eyes swayed me. “It’s okay,” I said. “I’ll just sleep in the chair.”

She shot me a knowing look before she disappeared briefly. She reappeared a few minutes later, a spoon in one hand, a blanket and pillow in the other. “Good night, honey,” she said. “Don’t let that boy of mine leave without saying good-bye.”

“I won’t,” I promised. “Thank you for dinner.”

“You’re good for my Pete.” She squeezed my arm and stretched up to kiss my cheek. “Good night, Ash.”

S
OMEWHERE
in the strange building, a door closed. I opened my eyes and glanced around. The door wasn’t in Maggie’s apartment, but it had woken me up enough to stay that way.

There was warmth beside me. I looked down at Pete. He was wedged against the back of the couch, his arm and leg thrown over me and his head on my chest. It was the third night in a row we’d slept close together like this, and I was beginning to really like it. Lucky, really. If I’d had my way, I’d have stayed curled up in the chair alone. It crossed my mind when Maggie went to bed to just go home, but I didn’t. Instead, I’d eaten ice cream and watched TV until Pete woke up and pretty much dragged me over to the couch. He went to sleep again almost instantly, but I hadn’t minded. It gave me some time to adjust to being that close to him again.

“Ash?”

I glanced down to see his eyes gleaming in the darkness. “Hey, you,” I said softly. “Are you feeling better?”