He Says He's Just A Friend

Epilogue I - Welcome to New York

- Emmett -

"I'm sure it's one of these." Clay said, flipping through all the keys on the loop of his keychain. He grimaced, discarding key after key.

I hefted the box in my arms a bit higher after it slipped an inch from my sweaty palms. I didn't know why we'd bought all this crap in one outing. We needed to remember that we lived in a six-floor walk-up. Not to mention that we had to park a block away from our building. "Hurry."

"I'm sorry, baby." Clay's eyes lit with recognition. "It's this one."

"Eighth times the charm," I mumbled.

Clay threw an incredulous glance in my direction, sliding the key into the lock. A satisfying click sounded, and Clay twisted the knob. It gave way, opening up on our new apartment. "Ha!" He stuck his tongue out at me.

I ignored his mocking and pushed past him. I set the box down with a heavy thud in the middle of the living room. Not that it was really a living room. Not in the sense that he and I had always known. Everything was literally in one room. It was listed as a studio when we rented it. They did not mention that our bathtub was five feet from our refrigerator. With no walls to separate them, or anything else.

Thankfully, the delivery people had arrived early this morning with our furniture, after two days of us sleeping on a pallet of blankets on the wood floor. Though none of it was where it should be. Clay and I would spend hours, if not days, rearranging everything to optimize what little space we had. We couldn't stay to tell them where to put everything, because we had scheduled campus tours-me at NYU, Clay at Pace University-to make sure we didn't get completely lost on the first day of classes. Plus, we wanted to see each other's school.

While I went to the kitchenette to splash water on my sweaty face, Clay took out his phone. He smiled and waved at the screen. "Hello gays and girls of the internet. And y'know anyone else who might be watching. We're all-inclusive around here."

I rolled my eyes. After his mini-boom of followers last fall, he'd taken to going live to fill them in on our lives every few weeks. He bumped that up to a few times a week after graduation. Last week, he documented our entire road trip from Alabama to New York, showing off all the sights along the way. He showed them our first ride on the subway, our trip to a genuine New York deli down the block, and our first visit to Central Park the day we arrived. I had no problem with him doing it, especially because he talked out a lot of his issues, venting like they were his support group, which I suppose they kind of were, in a weird way. I was mostly just cranky and tired. Also, this was the fifth time he'd done this today.

Clay spun the phone around to show off the apartment. "Isn't it fabulous? Our own little love nest."

When he turned the phone toward me, I raised my hands to cover my face. "I'm a mess." I hadn't expected New York to get as hot as it did back home. I thought I'd finally be rid of the blazing summer heat once I left the South behind. Wrong.

"You're gorgeous," he replied.

"Just show them the apartment, and please leave me out of it."

"Fine." Clay said, sounding disappointed. "But they all agree with me." Clay laughed at his phone screen. "Except for Carrie, who says 'get yourself together, you sloppy bitch.'"

I sighed and waved. "Love you, too, Care."

Clay turned the phone away, moving to the window. "Can you believe this view? We can see Manhattan from our window. Does that not just blow your mind?" I thought he was talking to them until he looked back at me with wonderment in his eyes.

I walked over and snuggled up behind him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders to look out. "It's amazing."

Clay turned his head to kiss my cheek while his phone was directed out the window. He reached up with his free hand to ruffle my hair. He mouthed, I love you.

I smiled and mouthed the words back.

As I retreated to get the shopping bag that Clay had left in the hallway, he continued the tour. "Can you believe the only thing separating the bathroom from the rest of the apartment is a curtain that we hung ourselves? So glamorous." He pretended to tuck his hair behind his ear, though it was too short. "Actually, that curtain was quite the to-do. Kerfuffle. It was a bitch. I've always been hopeless with handy things. And well y'all have seen Emmett."

"Fuck you."

Clay grinned at me. "I told you I'm not gonna do that while we're on camera. This is Instagram, not Only Fans." He looked at the camera. "I do not have one of those before any of y'all ask."

"That's not what I meant." I said.

"Sure, baby. We believe you."

"I'm going to take a shower. So no tours of the bathroom for them." I pointed to the phone. I removed my sweaty shirt and tossed it at him, hoping to entice him off his phone.

"Well, that's about all there is to see, folks. I'll post pictures of the place once we have everything the way we want it." He blew a kiss to the camera. "Love y'all. Talk later."

Clay ended his livestream and set the phone on the counter. "Now, what's this I hear about a shower?" He walked over to put his arms around my waist, drawing me in close.

I hung my arms across his shoulders and kissed him, tugging on his shirt. He broke away to take it off. His fingers hooked into my waistband, licking my neck as he pushed my shorts down. Apparently, he wanted to start now. That was okay by me.