“Trust me. I know.”
“Where’d you two meet?”
“At the park by my office. I go there every day during my lunch break to read.”
“Oh. Does he work near there, too?”
“You could say that….”
“Is he a full-time musician?”
“Yes, in a way.”
Her eyebrows rise. “Why are you being so vague? Is he some kind of porn star? If he is, I’m down with that. They make a shit ton of money.”
“Ditra! He’s not a porn star. Jesus! He plays guitar in the park.”
“Like a concert?”
“Yeah, sort of like that.”
She frowns with confusion. “Every day?”
I finally give in. “He’s a street musician.”
She looks at me expectantly, waiting for more of an explanation, and when I don’t give it to her, I see the gradual realization cross her face.
“He plays in the park for money,” she says.
I nod.
“So people give him tips as they listen and walk by. He’s not getting a paycheck.”
“Right.”
“So he doesn’t quite have a real job.”
I shake my head and place my empty teacup on my nightstand. “No. Not really.”
“Are you giving him money?”
“God, no. Nothing like that.”
“He’s not living out of his car, is he?”
She must notice me wince, because her face and shoulders fall as she stares at me.
“Tell me he’s not, Piper,” she begs.
“He doesn’t even have a car,” I finally say. “He’s homeless.” There. I said it. Now she knows. “I know what you’re going to say. But I love him. I honestly, truly love him. He makes me happy and he makes me feel beautiful, and he’s smart and funny and so talented. I don’t care about where he does or doesn’t live. It doesn’t matter to me.”
For a moment, she looks as if she’s gone into shock. She’s just sitting there staring at me, unblinking, with her mouth partially open. Eventually, she shakes her head a little and runs her hand through her hair. “Fuck. I seriously don’t even know what to say.”
“Then don’t say anything. I don’t want you to.”
“Do you parents know?”
“Are you kidding? Of course not. You know how they are. They’d lock me down here and never let me back out.”
“True. It’s just… you’re so beautiful. You’re smart and sweet, and you have a good job. You don’t have to settle for someone like that—”
“Settle?” Anger rises in me. “I’m not settling. I want to be with him.”
“I’m not trying to make you mad. I’m just trying to understand. Cut me a little slack, okay? This wasn’t what I was expecting.”
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I’m tired.”
“You’re not getting rid of me. We’re talking about this whether you like it or not.”
“You’ll never understand.”
“Maybe not, but I’m trying to. Where exactly does he live?”
Letting out a deep, frustrated breath, I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms round my legs. “When I first met him, he was sleeping under an old bridge in the park. He walks around and plays guitar during the day, and on some nights, he plays in bars for money, like the night we ran into him. But now he’s sleeping in a shed in the backyard of an old abandoned house. It’s on a dead-end street. No one is ever down there. It’s safe.”
“A shed? So where do you guys hang out? Where are you having sex? Are you paying for sleazy hotel rooms? You could get fleas, Piper. Or bedbugs. You have massive OCD and germ issues, and you’re fucking in cheap hotels?”
“No. We hang out in the shed. He has a sleeping bag. It’s not really dirty at all. He cleaned it.”
“You’re fucking in a shed?” she practically yells.
“Stop it!” I hiss. “First of all, we’re not fucking. We love each other. You’re making it sound dirty, and it’s not.”
“Well, it sounds sleazy. Can’t you at least bring him here?”
“No. My parents would be all over it and ask a thousand questions. Plus, he has a dog. I can’t bring a dog in here. Archie would be petrified.”
“Does the dog sleep in the shed, too?”
“Yes. He’s a really nice dog. He’s calm and well behaved, and he’s always clean. They both are.”
“Piper, I seriously don’t even know what to say at this point. This is way worse than what I was thinking.”
“Why? Why is it worse? He’s a nice guy. Isn’t that all that matters?”
“No, it isn’t! You’re only twenty-one! You should be going on dates and having sex in a real bed in some guy’s apartment. Not in a fucking shed on a dead-end street! I care about you, you idiot. And this is all sorts of fucked up. Even I wouldn’t do something like this, and I’m the crazy one here!”
“You’re not crazy. You’re just experimental.”
Leaning back against the pillows next to me, she covers her face with her hands. “You’re going to make me cry. See what you do? You see the good in everyone.”
“Why is that bad?”
“It’s not. It’s wonderful. It’s why you’re the best friend in the whole world, and it’s probably why this homeless Blue guy loves the shit out of you.” She leans on her side to study me. “He does love you, right?”
“I’m pretty sure he does.”
“I just don’t want you to be used. You’re not supporting him, right?”
“No. Not at all. Sometimes I pay for things, but he does, too. It bothers him when I try to pay.”
“Good. Let him pay if he can.”
“Don’t tell anyone about me and him, Dee. I’ll tell my family when I’m ready.”
“I won’t tell anyone, I promise. Who would believe me, anyway? Are you going to keep seeing him? Do you think this is serious?”
“Yes, I’m going to keep seeing him.” I pet Archie, who’s decided to plant himself between us. “I just don’t really know what the future holds, and that’s what scares me.”
“What do you mean?”
“He doesn’t stay anywhere very long. He goes from place to place and only stays a few months before he goes on to the next place he wants to see.”
“You don’t think he’ll stay here now that he’s involved with you?”
“I don’t know. I’ve hinted at wanting him to stay, but he gets really skittish and vague. I think he’s afraid of commitment. Not sexual commitment, but commitment to plans and future.”
“Like a job and a house and being an adult?”
“Exactly. He seems to just want to wander around and play guitar.”
“Oh my God. This has heartbreak and years of emotional trauma and therapy written all over it. Are you okay with that? Falling in love with him and then being dumped so he can trek around?”
“No… I’ll miss him like crazy if he leaves. I’ll be devastated.”
“Okay, so if he loves you, then why can’t he get a job? Then you guys can get an apartment and not be shacking up in a shed.” She lets out a laugh. “Shacked up in a shed!” she repeats, giggling.
I glare at her and fight back the tears of frustration burning my eyes. “It’s not funny. I’m going to talk to him about an apartment and see if I can ease him into it. I almost have enough money saved up for a deposit and furniture, and I have a few thousand saved for emergencies. I need another month or two.”
“And what if he says no? What are you going to do then?”
“I don’t know. I can’t think that far ahead.” If I let my brain wander that far, I get bombarded with a thousand what-if scenarios that I just can’t handle right now.
“Well, you might have to. I guess he could stay with me for a while, until you guys get it all figured out. I have that empty room in my apartment that I’m using for a closet, but it will seem like the Ritz to him after sleeping in a shed. If you say he’s trustworthy, I don’t mind if he stays there so you have a safe place to hang out. You can move in, too, if you want. I don’t mind at all.”
“That’s really sweet, but I doubt he’d go for it. I could ask him, though.”
“I would definitely try to talk to him. I’m not too keen on a homeless stranger living in my apartment, but I don’t like this fucking in a shed business at all. You are way better than that. Actually, I don’t like any of this, to be honest, but I’m trying to deal with it because I can see how into this guy you are.”
“I love him, Dee. I think he’s my soul mate,” I say softly. “I just felt this… connection to him the moment I saw him. And I’m pretty sure he felt it, too.”
“I don’t really believe in that shit. I believe in chemistry and things in common and great sex.”
“That’s because you’ve never felt it.”
She shrugs. “Maybe. What I’m feeling is that you better stop blowing me off to hide. You can’t just immerse yourself in him and let him take over your life. I’m going to expect us to go back to our Wednesday night dinners. He’s not going to die without you for a night.” She pulls back the comforter and fluffs up one of the pillows she’s lying on. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m freakin’ exhausted. I’m sleeping here with you.”