Coda Books 04 - Strawberries for Dessert (MM)

expensive restaurant, I knew the cost of our dinner was a mere drop in the bucket to him. Still, it bothered me to think of him paying for everything. My pride wouldn’t allow it.
    “I know it seems silly to you,” I told him, “but you paid to fly here just to keep me company. And you’ve cooked every night. I owe you this.”
    He still looked amused and a little bit baffled. “This is important to you,” he said. It wasn’t a question, but I could tell he didn’t understand either. He was trying to puzzle it out.
    “Yes,” I said. He sat there looking at me, waiting for something— whether it was for me to change my mind or to offer some type of an explanation, I didn’t know. But then, slowly, he took his hand away from the folder.
    It was late by the time we left the restaurant. He was quiet most of the way back to the condo. We got ready for bed in silence and got in on opposite sides. He didn’t seem inclined to initiate anything, and I didn’t want to be pushy. He curled up on his half of the bed, and I stretched out on my back on mine. I was almost asleep when I suddenly felt the weight of his thin body on top of me. I opened my eyes to find him looking down at me. The lack of light in the room made it impossible for me to read his expression.
    “I’ve been thinking about it,” he said quietly, “and I can’t actually remember the last time anybody bought anything for me.”
    I was surprised. “Not anything ?” I asked.
    He shook his head. “Not even dinner.”
    My insistence on buying dinner had been nothing more than my own pride. I had never expected it to mean anything to him. But hearing him now, I realized it did. “What about Christmas?” I asked.
    He shook his head again. “No.”
    I realized then, for the very first time, how lonely his life must be.
    His father was dead, his mother apparently estranged. He had no siblings. He had nothing but a handful of casual lovers, scattered across the world from Paris to Hawaii.
    My first instinct was to hold him—to apologize and try to make things better—but I also suspected that he would never allow that. I put my fingers into his silky soft hair and said only, “You’re welcome.”

Date: June 28
    From: Cole
    To: Jared
    Hey there Sweets. I knew you would be intrigued by that last email.
    Well, that was the point, wasn’t it? But honestly, I only did it to tease you. It was nothing special. Jonathan was in Vegas on business, and I just went along for the ride. And honey, that was a sexual innuendo.

    HE SPENT two more nights with me in Vegas before returning home. I called him when I got back into town several days later.
    “Hello?” he answered, and it sounded like I had woken him up.
    “It’s Jonathan. I wanted to let you know that I’m back in Phoenix.”
    “That’s fascinating, darling, but I’m not.”
    “Where are you?”
    “In Tokyo.”
    “ Tokyo ?” I asked, flabbergasted. “What in the world are you doing in Tokyo?”
    “Sleeping,” he said, and hung up without saying goodbye.
    I was a little bit worried that I had seriously annoyed him, but two weeks later, I came home from work to find him cooking dinner in my kitchen.
    Over the next few months, we fell into an easy, albeit completely erratic, relationship. We were both out of town so often that it was hard to find time for each other, and he didn’t seem to like to plan anything in advance. I also learned that it did me no good to call him beyond simply informing him that I was back in town. Asking to see him only caused frustration. He might give me a flimsy excuse. He might say no but show up at my house later anyway. But no matter what, he never did anything that was not his own idea. So I waited for him. And eventually, he always called.
    Our time together out of bed had grown less awkward. I gave him a key to my house—not because things were that serious between us, but because it was the only logical thing to do. He hated to wait for me to get home to start cooking, and it was ridiculous for him to have to rely on Julia to let him in. Often when we were both in Phoenix, he would call me only to say that he was busy. But then I would come home to a house that smelled like heaven and him barefoot in my kitchen. I quit trying to predict him at all, but I was always happy to see him.
    I was still getting used to what we had together. I knew this type of relationship wasn’t new for him, but it was for me. I had been in long-term relationships