It wasn’t until I heard Josh Groban belting out the end credits that I realized I’d dozed off. I rested my head on Quintus’s lap. He stroked my hair as he stared in awe at the screen, silently beckoning me to jump right back into bed with him. Tall and strong, with an ageless sentience behind those smoldering eyes that put my most intellectual friends to shame, that he couldn’t stop touching me—it drove me to the end of my wits. Because I loved the way he touched me. His arms made me feel safe and reminded me that I wasn’t alone in the burning rubble that was my life.
Just sitting with him—watching a movie, keeping warm on a rainy day—felt luxurious. His gaze pierced me to the core, his fingers in my hair strumming my heart strings. He didn’t have somewhere else he was supposed to be, someone else who was expecting him. He didn’t constantly check his phone or watch. He was just here. With me. I wanted to curl up inside his powerful arms and stay there forever. And I wanted what I knew he wanted—so badly. But my lust was tempered with doubt, and I needed to be sure that once his feet were firmly planted in this century, that they wouldn’t lead him elsewhere.
He wanted me to take him to Rome. Dean was my best bet, if he could even do it. If he could…was I buying Quintus a one-way ticket? Were his feelings just a grown man’s abstinence of two millennia, now in the company of an unsupervised female? Or the emotional fallout of the circumstances that had thrown us together? Were mine? I’d have liked to think not. But if we—if I let him in, only to be gone again like the rest—I couldn’t bear that. Not with him.
One thing was certain. Staying away from Alex was no longer going to be a chore. I was angry, having never felt so cheated. Only now did I understand how little Alex had given, and how much he had taken.
“That was wondrous,” Quintus said, drawing my attention back to him. The rolling credits shined in his eyes.
“Are you crying?” I asked.
He swiped quickly at his face. “No.”
“Yes, you are. It is common,” I said. “Even among men.”
“Are there more? Like this?” he asked eagerly. I smiled.
“Many, many more.” I rose, stretching my arms until my shoulders almost came out of joint. I found myself caught in his quiet seduction, that sultry, inquisitive gaze that had led my hand to his dick a few hours before. Either he had no idea how crazy sexy he was, or he was toying with me, the way a fox might fondle a mouse before eating it alive. I was in a lot of trouble, living under the same roof as him. I stood before he could kiss me again, not ready to start what I had nearly killed myself to stop the last time. He recognized what I’d done, and looked confused, wounded. Then those shadows left his eyes, chased away by sincerity and understanding. I wanted to jump him even more. I very well might have, if not for my wretched phone buzzing on the table.
“Who calls?” Quintus asked.
“Dean. Felix. My tenants. They are close.” Just looking at the rain battering down the windowpanes made me groan. What a shitty day to be moving in.
The honk of Felix’s beat-up Chevy half an hour later made Quintus jump. When I opened the front door, I could barely see Felix’s headlights crawling up the hill to the front door until he was right in front of us, hearing only “Sweet Child of Mine” blaring through the storm. The convertible’s fabric top was taking a visible beating.
“Come up!” I shouted uselessly into the deluge, motioning for Felix to put it in reverse and pull it up close. He inched slowly, keeping his head twisted toward me as he inched his back tires up half the marble steps of the front entryway, shielding the trunk with the overhang from the porch roof.
“Whoa!” I called out, stopping him just before his bumper tapped the columns holding up the portico.
Watching Felix and Dean get out at the same time made me laugh. They were entirely different men. There’s only one way to describe Dean’s more collegiate style, his cultivated look of subdued power behind thick-rimmed glasses and a fair-haired do-curl. He was, in plain English, a hipster Clark Kent. Where Dean tried so hard, Felix’s devil-may-care Euro-chic was effortless—a finely tailored white shirt, ripped jeans, and goddamn sexy leather shoes. His clean, full haircut was roughed up by two or three days’ worth of stubble. Felix was faster, and caught me in his arms first, kissing both my cheeks exuberantly.
“Hola, Princesa!” Felix shouted, lifting me off the floor and spinning me in a quick circle. “What a beautiful day, huh?!”
“Fabulous.” I laughed, my feet back on the marble floor that was rapidly growing slick. I turned to greet Dean and was met by a boyish eagerness.
“Hi, Azi,” he said softly in my ear, making me suddenly uncomfortable with how close we were standing. It wasn’t just me. Quintus chose that moment to step in-between us, wanting an introduction. Quintus caught my eyes for a second, but then we were both distracted by Felix.
“Let’s meet and greet later, okay? Better we set everything here before we all get washed away,” he suggested, gesticulating wildly at the floor.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I answered, grabbing my hoodie from the coat closet to the left. Before I could don it, Quintus stopped me. My eyes questioned him, but he simply smiled, and crooked his finger under my chin before following the boys out.
Through the next several hours of boxes being moved first from the car to the foyer then upstairs to the bedrooms, I was not permitted to lift a single crate. It was a sweet, grand gesture, and to be honest, it went faster with him on the job. It allowed me to keep the floor dry and concentrate on little details like chilling Coronas as Dean and Felix settled in.
Every time Dean passed me on the stairs, I had to feign being busier than I was just to avoid his meaningful, crushed stares. The disappointment that had flashed on his face at Quintus’s open affection for me coiled a knot in my stomach. I’d been as straightforward as possible the night before he left for summer, proposing a one-time cure for my Alex-itis. It had only broken my habit for about a week; it had taken Jakob to really shake it, and he’d had two weeks straight. Dean had been cool with it, I thought. Apparently not. I’d approached Dean because I trusted him, and he wasn’t the rogue Felix was. Maybe that was what I had needed. Felix would have fucked me, then been back to raiding my fridge the next day without a thought in his head, like it had never happened. He might have been the better man for the job.
But it amounted to only a few awkward seconds, nothing more. As the bustle was winding down, an expensive car horn blared outside. Ravi sauntered through the open front door, sporting thick sunglasses and a black raincoat and black pumps under a black umbrella. She looked like she was going to the funeral of the wealthiest man on earth. Her rich caramel skin glittered with a dozen gold bangles on each arm, rubies dangling from her ears. She jingled in time with the rain as she glided toward us, cracking into the first round in the kitchen.
“What do you need, a written invitation? Go out there and get my stuff,” she commanded, ripping the bottle from Dean’s lips and taking a long swig. She swatted the men away as Dean and Felix planted wet kisses on her cheeks. “Hello, dear,” she said, hugging me tightly as the menfolk went about their work.
“Good Lord, he’s a handsome one,” Ravi said, taking off her shades to get a better look at Quintus. “What an ass.”
“That ass is mine,” I said, before thinking about it.
“No shit! And Alex?” she asked, her voice lowering as she spoke his name.
I clucked my tongue before raising a bottle again to my lips. “Fuck Alex.”
“Not anymore.” She laughed. I laughed with her.
“Amen, sister,” I said, tapping the neck of her bottle with mine.
“Good riddance, I say. That man is pure poison. Where’s Kyle?”
“He transferred to Cal Tech.”
“Oh! Good for him.”
“He sends his regrets.”
“Mm, yes, I like this one better anyway,” she said, raising her drink to Quintus as he led the line hauling Ravi’s stuff up the stairs.
“Don’t you feel just a little bit bad not helping?” I asked, leaning closer.
“No,” she answered, mimicking the tone of my voice and coming so close our foreheads touched as we giggled. “If you feel so bad, you go help.”
“Not allowed,” I said, sitting upright in my chair.
“Oh, that’s so sweet, I think I’ll vomit on your floor,” she joked. “Does he have money?”
“Not a dime.”
Ravi laughed. “You can have him, then. I give you my permission.”
“All finished, my fine ladies,” Felix announced as the trio came downstairs. Dean pulled a second round from the fridge. I whipped out my phone for pizza. No one was looking when I grabbed Quintus’s Corona and shoved the lime through the neck before he had time to question it. Once I hung up, Felix was ready with our habitual start-of-the-year toast.
“May the wind always be at your back, and the warm sun upon your face, until we meet again. Salud!”
“Salud!” we echoed, tapping the butts of our bottles against the marble counter before polishing them off in ritualistic fashion.
“Welcome home, fellas,” I said, the golden liquid sliding down to my empty stomach.
“Thank you again for your assistance,” Felix said, stretching his arm out to Quintus. Quintus took it, grasping Felix’s hand up to his elbow. My heart almost stopped.
“Old school, eh? I like it,” Felix said, gripping Quintus’s arm more firmly. Thank the gods Felix was cool in every situation.
“Quintus,” he announced himself.
“He doesn’t speak English,” I said, licking my lips and rolling my eyes back awkwardly.
“Ah. Felix,” he answered matter-of-factly. I followed that with an introduction of Dean, then Ravi, to whom he made a low bow.
The household dispersed for potty breaks and dry clothes before food, leaving Quintus and me alone in the kitchen. He glistened with the day’s efforts, his sweat carrying a heady sweetness. I licked my lips, imagining all the other things that might produce that musky fragrance.
“What is this?” he panted loudly, not recognizing the need for secrecy.
“Shh! Beer,” I hissed.
“What is wrong?”
I inched closer, taking in more of his scent and wishing it on my own skin. “Latin is not spoken now. I only know it as part of my study. We must be careful.”
His face turned contemplative. “I must learn quickly, then.”
“Yes. I am sorry.” I pursed my lips to the side. I didn’t like having to push him. He had enough to deal with. But he hadn’t shut himself into a dark corner of his room, or gone stark raving mad, when I might have expected that. He was resilient.
But that alone wouldn’t be enough. He couldn’t wear my father’s sweatshirt forever, and the things that would help Quintus acquire English faster weren’t cheap. There would be no more paint this month.
Quintus surprised me as the day drew to a close. He was so comfortable among people with whom he could not converse. Over pizza, Felix asked the questions I should have been prepared to answer.
“Azi, tell us about our new housemate. What does he study?”
The phrase “Ancient languages” jumped out of my throat.
“Just up your alley, huh?” Felix smiled brazenly.
I was angry at my face for getting red faster than I could control it. Dean tried badly to be distracted by the Horus behind him, and Quintus simply inched his seat closer to mine.
“I can translate,” I said acridly, throwing a snarky look at Quintus. It was returned only by that innocent smile that wasn’t so innocent.
“I am a musician and a poet,” Felix said, smiling at Quintus and giving a courteous bow.
“Computer programming,” Dean offered, following suit.
“Architectural engineering,” Ravi chimed in. Quintus inched his head to me, and I translated in his ear the best I could. We shifted to the parlor, and Felix moved to his customary place at the piano.
“Mierda. Azi, I’ve told you to keep this tuned,” he scolded.
“I would if I knew how,” I replied apologetically.
“Ach, why you didn’t say? Come!” He pulled me to the bench with him, and I watched as he tightened strings and loosened others in the housing. When every note sounded to his satisfaction, I rejoined Quintus on the sofa.
Felix played his own composition. Its opening was bright and witty, up-tempo, just like Felix. As he glided his fingers over the keys to the second movement, the tone grew languid, sated with joy, and digging into lower notes and longer silences for a more sonorous mood, the absence of musical light. I leaned back into Quintus’s arms, closing my eyes and inhaling the melancholy harmony, hinting with nostalgia at the first movement. Felix finished quietly, and we issued our congratulations.
“Gracias.” He bowed in his seat. “If my advisory board is as kind as you, I should be done by Christmas.”
“Already?” Ravi asked.
“I’m sure they’ll want changes, but yes, I hope so.”
I stayed silent, stung to lose another friend. And another tenant. The ice I trod was not merely thin. It was treacherous.