Day 9

                                    

                                          
7:00 am
                          
Despite my slight hangover, I got up at 6 a.m. to shower, grab a coffee, and hid myself away in my room before Brad woke up. I stuck a note on my bedroom door that said "big work problem! See you at lunch." Now I'm in here, writing this. I feel like shit about it, but after the semi-drunk knee stroking incident, I don't see how we can face each other without talking about it. And we can't talk about it without the rather huge chance that he's going to tell me "sorry, man, I was drunk, I don't swing that way," and then I'm going to feel stupid for having enough hope to even develop a crush, and then I'm going to spiral into disappointment and feel stupid for even feeling entitled to disappointment. 
                          
God fucking damn it. Brad is awake. I heard him walk up to my door, read the note, and shuffle away again. I just want to pop out the door, say "just kidding!" and... I don't know, make him toast or something. Ugh. This is the worst.
                          
Okay. Gotta start work. That'll get my mind off this. Hopefully.
                          
11:00 pm
                          
Okay. Day 9 over. No confrontation over last night, surprisingly, but a whole lot more confusing shit to deal with.
                          
At noon, I left my room for lunch. I could hear Brad moving around in the kitchen, dishes clattering around. I was shaking when I finally opened my door and stepped out into the living room, but Brad was distracted. He was opening the front door and picking up a large package. 
                          
I asked him what it was when he came back inside and he tisked his tongue and said, "Never you mind."
                          
He took the package to his room and I got kind of freaked out and said I had a big work problem going on and should probably eat at my desk while I worked. Brad sounded disappointed, but he said, "Oh, okay. Let me just make you a sandwich."
                          
I offered to do it myself but Brad wouldn't let me. I wished he had gone into his room to open the package. I could have stolen my lunch and hidden away in my room. Instead I had to stand there at the breakfast bar while he made me a BLT with bacon he had just cooked up. I was trying to think of something to say, but he beat me.    
                          
"What's your work problem?" he asked. "Is it that Ian guy?"
                          
Thank god he said that, because otherwise I would have babbled some made-up story that doesn't make sense. But no, I had a ready-made story about Ian's incompetance that I could Frankenstein into some kind of big problem I could be solving in there. 
                          
"Sounds like it sucks," he said when I was done. "Are you going to be working late, or...?"
                          
When he asked that, his voice was so... soft. Like he hoped my answer would be "no," but he was bracing himself for disappointment. Despite how scared I was, I couldn't disappoint him. So I told the truth. 
                          
"No, I should be done at the usual time."
                          
"Okay, good. I thought we could order pizza for dinner. The place down the street is doing contactless delivery. Then do you want to play Cards Against Humanity?"
                          
I pointed out that there were only two of us. He said, "We can just add random cards to each round so it's like we're playing against an NPC."
                          
So I went back to my desk and ate a sad lunch alone, listening to the rustling sounds of Brad moving around the living room. I wondered what he was doing. What was the magic trick of the day? I heard the sounds of him opening up the package and wondered what the hell was in there.
                          
As soon as I stepped out of my room in the evening, Brad was all over me. Asking me how the day was, whether the problem with Ian was solved, if I was stressed out. Asking if I wanted a beer (the answer was yes). Asking if I wanted Guinness or some fancy fruity local beer (always the fancy kind). Asking what kind of pizza I wanted (anything, whatever he felt like).