The Men Next Door

Ch 43 - Campbell

Baby Clara was a tiny bundle at only three weeks old, and she somehow looked even smaller against her uncle's large frame. It was a wonder that Elijah even let him hold her in all of his new dad panic.

But Brooks was a natural, of course. And with the way he'd been patiently waiting on our meet-the-baby invitation since Brenna went into labor, just a few days after we'd moved into our new apartment, I thought I'd have to convince him to pass her off at the end of the evening.

I think we all thought that after two hours had gone by. Especially once Judah came downstairs, looking for a post-dinner snack, and jokingly asked if Brooks had even blinked the whole time he was gone. My boyfriend's answering nod was hardly convincing, but Clara had other, hungrier plans than being held by a man with no milk supply all night — and the exhausted parents quickly seized the opportunity for an emptier house and an earlier bedtime when she started to cry.

We were back home and cozy in our own bed 20 minutes later.

Our bed.

As in, the one bed that we shared. Every single night.

It was still a shocking concept, even though we'd been switching back and forth between our neighboring apartments for the better part of a year. And with the way the street lights shined brightly through the sheer curtains, casting a warm glow on the floor by my nightstand, I almost forgot we weren't in New York anymore when I closed my eyes.

Brooks' memory was apparently much more vivid than mine.

"It's so quiet here," he said, pulling me closer to his side of the mattress. There was less light there, just a couple inches over, and I felt like I was moving through time, deeper into the night as we dove into our conversation.

"Compared to Manhattan?"

"Yeah. I'd been there for what? Over 10 years?" he asked. I craned my neck to look at him over my shoulder, but before I could confirm his math, he was already continuing. "When I first moved there, I remember thinking that the noise was this beautiful, lively thing. It was just so different from here. And I was craving that. Something different."

"When did you stop?" I asked. "Craving it?"

His chest rose slowly against my back as he thought it over. "Probably when I went all in on freelancing. Four-ish years ago. The noise got obnoxious; the apartments felt smaller, even when it was just me. I was thinking about leaving after my first year in our building, but then I met Luca, and Jenkins was there, and... I don't know. I guess I just got comfortable. It was easier to stay than to figure out what I wanted to do next."

"I'm glad you stayed," I told him quietly.

"I'm glad you ran," he replied. "To me, and with me."

I pressed a kiss against the arm he had wrapped around my side. "Do you miss it?"

"I think I'm just not used to being away from it," he answered vaguely. It was the same response he'd given our therapist a few days earlier, and I resisted the urge to force a real reaction out of him. "I almost played traffic noises in my headphones the other night when I couldn't fall asleep."

I giggled. "I don't think that counts as white noise."

He kissed the back of my head. "Me either. But I think it would've worked."

"It feels weird to me too," I admitted. "Not because of New York, but because I don't think I've ever lived in a building this... calm." Nuzzling into the pillow under my ear, I added, "In Florida, I was too close to the college for peace and quiet. Same thing in undergrad. And then when I was younger..."