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Lorenzo blinked himself awake, the break of dawn shining through the blue checkered curtains and lighting the bedroom subtly. Natasha slept soundly against him with her back to his chest, hugging the bunched up blanket to her own chest. He could hear the morning traffic building up in the distance, just barely, over the air conditioning making the air outside the blanket crisp. He sighed peacefully and lay there a while, steadying his breathing to hers. Closing his eyes, on the verge of falling asleep again, he heard a buzzing from where his pants were left the night before and gave a resigned sigh. Carefully turning around and reaching to the carpet with one hand, doing his best not to stir her, he wormed his way into the pocket and pulled out his phone, seeing two missed calls and a text from A. "we still on?"

He closed his eyes and sighed again, mentally kicking himself for forgetting, slowly typing back "ya sry had smth come up at work" and watched the dots of the reply coming back at him. "well I got work too dude dont keep me waiting too long lol." Lorenzo typed a quick "ok", turned off the screen and laid there staring at the wall. He really, really didn't feel like leaving, but duty calls, right? As gently as he could he fished his arm out from underneath and rolled out of the bed, making sure to tuck the covers at the space he was in up on her back. She sighed. He let out his breath, stood straight and started pulling his clothes back on. 'Hell,' he thinks to himself, his hand lingering on his belt he finished fastening, imaging what might happen with her waking up and him long gone. Not his kind of thing (granted this sort of scenario never happened to him), but he had always silently shamed people that do one night stands, especially when the other party wasn't privy to it. But surely she'd understand he had work shit come up, right?

He sighs dejectedly as he closes her bedroom door behind him. The hall felt cold. Very cold, and cramped. He tiptoed down to where the stairs leading to the kitchen were, remembering her parents snoring at the opposite end of the hall, and stretched his arms with muted pops from joints. He pushed open the metal door and admired how shiny all the ovens and counters were, never actually being in a professional kitchen before. He came through the other door, and was met with a fat, glaring raccoon with a mug of coffee sitting in a booth, arms folded over each other, staring into his soul. "Sleep well, paison?" he asked with a smooth Italian-ish accent.

Oh shit oh fuck who is- "I-I er," he tripped over his words, stopped himself, swallowed, cleared his throat, "My name is Lorenzo, sir, are you uh-?"

"Natasha's father. Yes," Natasha's father said flatly, his accent barely noticeable over his piercing green eyes. Of course it was her father. "Lorenzo," he said slowly, almost mockingly, like it left a nasty taste in his mouth. "You know, I used to sleep very hard, Lorenzo. But now, when you have a kid, your ears can hear things they wouldn't normally." Lorenzo felt like his heart was about to fall out of his throat. Natasha's father stood slowly, between him and the front door, twice his size it felt like, arms still crossed, the kind of guy Lorenzo knows to be deceptively strong under the belly. "And after all of that, you would go and break my only child's heart, leaving her to wake up alone again." He felt like a little kid, not knowing what to say, only to stare with wide eyes and a dry mouth. Mr. Briar stepped forward and stood eye to eye with him, nose twitching ever so slightly. Narrowing his eyes, he hissed, "You don't even look like a Lorenzo, but some... hillbilly wanting to be a wop."

Lorenzo averted his eyes to the booth table next to them, swallowed, and managed to reply, "It weren't my birth name, sir, my family calls me that since I was a kid, and I think it sounds better than just Laurence. Sir." He braced himself to be insulted again, or punched in the stomach, but instead was met with furrowed brows, then a poorly hidden smile trying not to laugh and wake up the family upstairs.

Mr. Briar bit his lip and shook his head, the hints of smile receding as quickly as they came. He drew a deep, steady breath and exhaled. Lorenzo could smell coffee, and a hint of alcohol. "Okay, Lorenzo. Okay," he nodded. "You seem honest to me about your past." Is that all it took? No way. "What were you thinking to tell my daughter, mm?" Oh, there it is.

Lorenzo thought as quickly as he could in his panic. He took another shaky breath, "Well, sir, I was plannin' on coming back with breakfast. Sir." He hazarded a look back up at him.

Mr. Briar had his eyebrows raised again, this time no hints of laughter trying to creep up. "Breakfast," he asked and also said bluntly.

Lorenzo nodded, more sure now that he had something to say, "Pancakes, I was thinking, y'know?" his fingers fidgeted over his sweaty palms. Her father scoffed, turned, and sat back down in the booth his coffee was at, with a sigh of exertion. Lorenzo took a breath.

"You go and get breakfast. I'll be here to make sure you do. Okay?" Mr. Briar asked with his intense eyes softened a bit now. "But er, no pancakes. She likes omelettes more."

He blinked, nodded in acknowledgment, and timidly made his way to the front door, trying to be as quick but as calm as he could manage despite the adrenaline in his ears. "Oh,Lorenzo," he heard from behind him as he started pushing the door open. He turned and looked at the back of her father's head, staring at the coffee on the table in front of him. "I like my omelettes with portabellos." Lorenzo nodded and coughed out an 'okay', went out the door, and took deep, ragged breaths of fresh air, fumbled with his pocket to get his cigarettes out and lit one as he started his walk down the road of dew-covered store fronts.

The walk to the Velvet was uneventful, minus the hum of the distant interstate traffic - now a constant droning of engines bouncing down the streets. The streets around Podunk were relatively empty; a few box vans doing deliveries, shops opening up their doors with employees moving fold out signs to the sidewalk (looking way more tired than Lorenzo felt, somehow). He took care not to trip over the railroad tracks that hadn't been used in a million years, stamped out his cigarette butt on the loose stones there, and continued on.

The street outside of the Velvet was empty. The overpass in the distance was filled with cars, sure, but the ground level had no one except Lorenzo approaching, a car parked out front of the club, and two men standing next to it. Thankfully he recognized them as he got closer, Eddy standing in the middle of the sidewalk, his button-up shirt more wrinkled than it was the night before, arms crossed and facing the other one - a tall, lanky lynx in a tight white shirt and baggy track pants, both hands casually in his pockets. They both turned when they heard Lorenzo getting near, and Eddy raised his hands in a sudden toothy smile, "Lorry, where the fuck you been at, man?" he dropped his hands on Lorenzo's shoulders and gave him a little shake. "Left me to close up shop all by myself this morning, y'know."

Lorenzo feigned a smile and pretended to not be irritated at being jostled. "Had something come up when you were occupied, know what I mean?" He ignored Eddy's lowered eyebrows and looked behind the coyote, nodding to the cat. "Sorry for keeping you, Anton."

Anton shrugged. "There is still time before I need to be at Kolya's laundry. I wanted to be sure that my good friend Lorenzo Mitchell wasn't in any sort of trouble," he said mockingly while looking at Eddy's back.

Eddy turned, one hand still on Lorenzo's shoulder, the other giving the cat an accusing point. "Lorry may be a job-ditching weirdo, but he can take care of himself, pal." Anton's ear flicked and he turned back to stare at the wall of the club with a sigh. Turning back to Lorenzo now, he said with sudden sternness, "You do whatever it is you need to do and come see me up stairs. Donny's got shit for us to do."

Lorenzo's mouth twitched and he nodded quietly, prompting Eddy to walk inside the Velvet sparing Anton a glance as he passed. Anton scoffed after the door had closed behind him, leaving the two with the car. "Shithead," he muttered before gesturing in the window he was leaning against. "Do you still need the stogies, dude?" to which Lorenzo nodded.

After Anton reached in the car and pulled out a carton of Red Rook 100's, he handed it over to Lorenzo, who handed over three wrinkled twenty dollar bills, and then hesitated before heading into the club after Eddy. "Hey, Anton," he began, the lynx looking up at him expectedly. "You got some Southports?" he said cautiously, hoping he was remembering the brand Natasha had last night. Anton stared a moment, blinked and went back into the back seat, sifting around before coming back and presenting Lorenzo with a carton with bright green logos on it. He fished out another sixty dollars from his wallet, nodded his thanks, and drummed his fingers on the cartons as he headed into the club. He heard the car start up behind him and drive off steadily, becoming just another droning engine in the distance.

The club was empty (as clubs usually are when they're closed), minus a spindly old rat mopping up around the bar, probably where someone had gotten sick the night before, and Lorenzo thanked luck that he had left before that. Eddy was standing up on the balcony, reading something on his phone, and waved Lorenzo over when he heard him enter the main floor. He took the stairs steadily, tried a smile when he got next to Eddy, who sighed, said "Let's do it," and led them into the back office, past the one-way windows, their footsteps on the old dingy carpet the only sound in the room, and into one of the doors in the corner. After unlocking it, Eddy let them in, and Lorenzo saw several sandwich baggies full of white powder on a fold-out table. He counted 5 bags, about halfway full, and continued following him across the room. "Donny says two of them has to go to the spot on King's, and the rest the shit to Acorn Flats," he says flatly, opening a cupboard and pulling out a thick hoodie. He hands it to Lorenzo, who starts to pull it on before being interrupted, "No, no, take off that shirt, you smell like hot ass and I ain't having you ruin my jacket beyond redemption."

He paused, set the hoodie on top of the cupboard, pulled his tank top off and swapped them out, realizing that he did in fact need a shower, and he couldn't stop himself from being aware of how he stunk. "Donny say when next batch is?" Lorenzo asked, getting an annoyed look from Eddy in return.

"You know he doesn't tell me jack shit. Just do the delivery and you can get back to whatever you uh," he trailed off, furrowing his brows. "Where did you go last night, anyways?" his dim yellow eyes pierced into Lorenzo's.

He feigned a cough, cleared his throat, "Not that it's your business, Ed, but I was keeping a very fine lady company while you were busy dogging her friend." He glared back, hoping he came off as joking, and was met with a mischievous, toothy grin.

"Man, defensive! And here I was thinking you were just gonna sit in that chair making her feel creeped out," he shook his head and went back to whatever he was doing on his phone, silently giggling to himself, making Lorenzo blush. After he had the hoodie on, and the baggies tucked deep into a pocket on the inside, he made for the door, pausing a moment when Eddy said behind him "By the way, don't let that Russian creep come around here selling you cigarettes. Donny wouldn't like him being at his place of business," and he continued out the door, letting it close behind him. Lorenzo muttered a few cuss words as he left.

Lorenzo wondered just how suspicious he looked, wearing a thick hoodie on a hot and muggy Sunday morning like this. Of course he never got stopped, the cops were always in the main part of the city where all the hotels and tourists were, not the outskirts where the citizens actually lived, and even if they did spare him a glance they'd probably just assume he had weed and wouldn't be worth the paperwork. Hopefully. Regardless of how much he stood out, he was hot as hell, and by the time he reached the park where he had to make his dropoff, he was sweating bullets. Glancing around quickly, making sure no one was watching him, he reached into the pocket inside the hoodie, pulled out two of the baggies and dropped them into a little crook in a tree. He left as surely as he arrived, his stomach growling at him, needing to pee, and he made a stop behind some bushes to relieve himself.

As he was leaving he checked his phone, and the time was already almost ten. He swore and picked up his pace a little bit, thinking for a second it might be worth taking the trolley, but he dismissed that idea when he saw how many people were waiting at the stop. He was halfway to Acorn Flats when the church crowds started making the foot and street traffic a nightmare, mostly old folks and nuclear families going out for brunch or book clubs or whatever it is they do after church. The apartment complex of Acorn Flats was quiet compared to the way over, save for the sound of kids playing in the complex's pool a block or two away. The dealer he was meeting was a tense looking skunk, wearing a polo shirt and cargo pants, sitting on the stairway up to his apartment with an energy drink clasped in his hands. He nodded to Lorenzo, who nodded back, with an acknowledging "Ben," and they went up the stairs into the dim room where another skunk sat on a sagging couch, looking more tense than the other. Lorenzo watched him wearily, not being ready for someone else to be here, since it was always just the one-

"That's my cousin, he's alright," said the one in the polo shirt. "Think he was just heading out to work actually, right?" and the one on the couch took a shaky breath and nodded, before standing, trying to hide glances at Lorenzo, and walking out the front door. Lorenzo looked at Ben with furrowed brows. "Listen, I'm sorry I didn't say anything about Marco, okay? He's harmless, and I didn't expect for him to show up today."

Lorenzo shook his head, and managed a smile. "Ain't no skin off my dick, man. Won't tell Donny if you don't." the skunk tried to smile back and nodded, wide eyed. He handed the skunk the remaining baggies of powder, was offered a bottle of water which he gladly accepted, and quickly said goodbyes to each other before he was off again, this time back to the Velvet.

By the time he got back, it was ten to eleven o'clock, and the hoodie was stuck to him from the sweat. He ripped it off and draped it over his shoulder, passing the janitor rat who gave a kind, tired smile, now dust-mopping the quiet dance floor. His stomach was gnawing at him, and he couldn't stop thinking about omelettes; with diced mushrooms, bell peppers, sausage, bacon on the side-

Eddy was sat in the same spot in the office he left him in, waiting for him with a glass of drink in hand, three ice cubes and half empty. "How'd it go?" he asked as he curled his nose at the drenched hoodie that was dropped on the desk next to him.

Lorenzo shrugged with a grin after a moment. "It went, what can I say?" and he went into the back room as Eddy sighed and started to count money from his wallet. He pulled his tank top back on, took a moment to appreciate the air conditioning, even if it smelled like mildew, and took up the two cigarette cartons he had bought from Anton. Coming back out, he went to take the folded bills held out to him, but Eddy pinched on to them.

He cocked his head at Lorenzo, who stood there gawking at him, confused. "Lorry," he said slowly, "Was Ben acting weird with you?"

He processed the question a moment. "No more than usual, I think," he said carefully, not wanting to get anyone in trouble. "Think he's anxious about something, but who ain't, right?" Eddy nodded slowly, releasing his grasp on the money, and Lorenzo tucked it into his wallet. He stood there in front of him, drumming his fingers on the cigarettes. "There uh... anything else?"

Eddy gave another of his toothy grins and said with a discomforting hiss, "How'd her pussy taste?"

Lorenzo felt his ears get hot, his blood run cold, but managed to smile back and say, "Go fuck yourself, Ed." he got more giggles from this, they nodded goodbyes to each other unceremoniously, and Lorenzo could finally focus on omelettes as he walked out in the hot daylight once more, swearing more than before, and much more audibly.

He stopped at a diner that he knew did take out and breakfast all day, and aside from an old couple of rats in front of him arguing with a waitress about how much a coffee should cost less the more the day goes on, he was able to make his order for four omelettes with no problem, even offering some her some assuring words. He got funny looks from people that saw him carrying two cartons of cigarettes, and might have caught some whiffs of his sweaty self, but didn't draw more attention than that. He went to the bathroom and washed himself up a bit, loosening up as the cool water relieved his face from sweat, he used some paper towels to scrub his neck, his armpits (which got an awkward look from an old man that happened to come in at that moment, averting his eyes as he went into a stall), and let himself have a relieved sigh as he inspected his copper fur in the mirror. Could be worse.

When he came out the waitress waved him over, handing him two bags with two plastic containers full of omelette, he thanked her and gave a ten dollar tip, and power-walked to Briar's Pizzaria, cigarettes stuffed in one of the bags.

By the time he got there, the diner was full of customers getting lunch, and Lorenzo's mouth watered when the door was help open for him by a young couple leaving, and the aromas of baked bread and sauces made him damn near dizzy. He went and stood next to the counter, setting the bags on it and waiting to wave down Mr. Briar, who he could see through the kitchen window focusing on kneading dough and spreading toppings, occasionally saying things to someone else back there. He's caught off guard when a lady's voice from behind him pipes up, "Have you been helped, sir?"

He turns and has to try not to do a double take, she's a raccoon that looks alarmingly like Natasha, but more weathered, a bit heavier, carrying a satchel in one hand that looked like it had the pizzaria logo on it. "Oh, no, ma'am, I uh," he swallowed sheepishly and she gave him an encouraging look, probably trying not to act weirded out. "I uh, brought breakfast..." he gestured to the bags, which she looked at, nodded slowly with raised eyebrows, and went around him and into the kitchen after telling him to wait a sec.

He dug his hands into his pockets, fidgeting with some lint, and he watched her open the kitchen door and call in, "Harry, did you order food?" He saw Harry - Mr. Briar, look up at him through the window, take a stern-faced breath and mouth "Yeah" to her. She went in and they talked a minute, her with her arms folded as he went on for a minute. He checked his watch. She held her chin with one hand a moment after he finished talking, and she opened the kitchen door and waved Lorenzo in. He picked up the bags and strode in, surprised at how dirty the kitchen looked now that it was actually being used, and Mr. Briar turned to face him, his face much softer than earlier that morning.

He folded his arms and glanced down at the bags Lorenzo carried. "Was the line so long it took you until lunch time to get breakfast, Lorenzo?" he said with a smirk. Mrs. Briar eyed the two of them, put her hands up and said "I'm gonna go help Marco get the dough, hun," and she walked off to the walk-in freezer, to which her husband nodded. Marco?

Lorenzo drew a breath from the warmth of the kitchen and thought as fast as he could for a response that wouldn't get him hit or piss off Harry - why the fuck is he so nervous here but not while carrying a couple felonies worth of cocaine in his pocket? He decided on a half-truth. "Sorry, Mr. Briar, I had some stuff at work I had to take care of, you know how it is, y'know?" Smooth as a gravel driveway, but he got a knowing nod in response.

He offered up the bag of omelettes that weren't overfilled with cigarettes, and Harry just pointed over to a fridge in the corner, next to the freezer door. He went over to it, feeling a sudden burst of confidence from not being antagonized like before, daring to wonder if he even won his trust. He was bobbing his head to the blues playing on a phone speaker somewhere in the kitchen, moving stuff around in the fridge to make room for the bag, and the freezer opened, and out stepped a skunk carrying metal trays stacked up to his chin. Lorenzo's heart caught in his throat. That's the cousin. From Acorn Flats. He worked here, of all the fucking places in Podunk-

Marco recognized him right away as well. He stood there frozen, wide-eyed, probably with a pulse faster than Lorenzo's own. They both tried not to jump when Mrs. Briar came out of the freezer carrying several trays as well, pushing between them with lots of 'scuse me's, and setting the trays on an empty counter space. She turned to Marco and said simply, "Don't worry hun, he's just here to drop off food and say hi to Tasha." Marco nodded and gulped, setting the trays next to her and they both started to unwrap the cellophane. Lorenzo remembered to breathe, and excused himself out of the kitchen as he felt eyes on his back, and had to hyperventilate a moment before continuing. He was back into the now-familiar stairway, and the hall, and stopped before the door that led to Natasha's bedroom. It was quiet, compared to the streets and the kitchen of her family's business. He could hear his heart thumping in his throat, the crinkling of the shopping bag in his hand. He hesitated. Gulped.

He reached out and gently knocked on the door with his knuckles three times. He heard an annoyed 'yeah?' from the other side, and asked if he could come in. Silence, and then the knob turned and she stood there staring at him with red eyes and a set jaw. He felt like she wanted to look angry, but that wasn't what her face showed. He tried a smile and held up the bag a bit. "I got omelettes," he croaked out. When did his voice get so hoarse?

She breathed a laugh through her nose, folded her arms and eyed him up and down. He started to feel like he was sweating again. She swallowed and nodded. "I guess you did." She pulled the door open to let him in, and he stepped in. She was wearing flannel pajama pants now, and a t-shirt that looked 3 sizes too big, her rusty brown hair tangled and bunched in the back. She wrinkled her nose at him as he came in, "Holy shit dude, do you need to borrow my shower?" and his face was red hot. Should've known a spit bath in a diner bathroom wouldn't cut it. He nodded with embarrassment, and she couldn't help but laugh at him. She set the bag down on her bed and led him back into the hall and to a small bathroom, handing him a towel from a closet. "I got to do laundry anyways, so just let me know when you're done."

He swore at himself while he showered, letting the tension and frustration of the past days out in silent malice as the cold water chilled him to the bones. After a moment of calling Eddy different kinds of motherfucker under his breath, and thinking of all the retorts he could have given, and all the shit he has to take just because Eddy is higher up than him, he feels a catharsis and lets out a long breath he felt like he had been holding all day. His head clears and he looks around in the shower, wondering if this is Tasha's own since there seems to be not much variety in the bottles and soaps in there. He squirts a bottle of something that sounds like it might be French into his hand and starts lathering into his joints, pits, nethers, and rinses himself out after a moment of standing with his face in the water. Lorenzo has never been the kind to care too much about scents, but he would be a liar if he said he didn't smell heavenly.

He shut the water off with a squeak from the faucet, water dripping from the shower head and himself. He wrapped the fluffy towel Natasha had given him around his waist after blotting himself as dry as he could manage, and opened the bathroom door with a creak. He waddled back down the hall into her room, where the door was still open, clutching the towel together with one hand. She turned and met him with a smile. Her face was much more relaxed now. He smiled back. They heard a clang from downstairs, and her father yelling 'shit' followed by her mother saying 'language, harry!' Tasha and Lorenzo instinctively bit their lips to keep from laughing. He cleared his throat and motioned at the bed. "Mind if I set down a minute? I'm beat."

Natasha blinked and nodded quickly, moving the bag of food from the bed to the desk she was sat at, on top of a closed laptop. He sat down and couldn't help but let out a long sigh. He hung his head and stretched a bit, already feeling like he could sleep for three days straight, and she stood up and took a hamper full of all the clothes that were decorating the floor just the night before out the door and towards the bathroom, and he let himself flop back to lay out on her bed. Holy hell, he was tired.

Lorenzo heard a cough from the doorway and picked his head up to see Tasha standing in the doorway, face red, and pointing at his towel. He felt his own face get red on realizing he was exposing himself, bolted upright and closed his legs together, apologizing profusely. She shook her head and laughed, closed the door behind her and took a seat next to him. "It's just a dick, dude, don't sweat it," she assured him. He swallowed. They sat there in silence, again. She cleared her throat and said, "I put your stuff in the washer, but made sure to put what was in your pockets on top of it," he froze. "Thought I'd mention it, since you had a few missed calls, I think" she trailed off.

He let himself sigh, coming up with an excuse. "I, yeah, work loves trying to call me in on my time off, y'know?" She nodded, biting her lip.

"So... does that mean you're gonna leave again?" He turned with furrowed brows, shaking his head quickly.

"Naw, naw. They can deal with whatever's going on by themselves, I'm too wiped now," he said smoothly, not a hint of dishonesty on his voice. "Sure it ain't that big an issue anyhow," he stretched back again, letting his joints pop. "You have any of that omelette yet, by the way? I'm starved as a mother fucker."

Some hours later, he was back in his clothes, now smelling like flowers and somehow not showing any signs of how much he sweated in them. Of course he thanked her, and their omelettes were delicious, packed with diced mushrooms and bell peppers, tomatoes, onions, no bacon, but that was alright. He even managed to catch up on some sleep when she went downstairs to help during the dinner rush, and he volunteered to help clean up dishes while they were closing up late into the evening. He managed to get some guffaws from Mr. Briar, compliments from Mrs. Briar, some smiles and affectionate bumps from Natasha. Marco kept his distance.

He was hyper focused on a gooey piece of pizza Harry had set aside for him, as thanks for helping clean a bit, when his phone went off again. He sighed and pulled it out, seeing it was a text from Eddy. He swallowed the mouthful of pizza and cleared his throat before reading it with tired eyes.

_ Donny wants to talk. Lmk when you're not busy fucking or whatever._

What the hell would Donny want? He never talks to Lorenzo, just acknowledges him whenever they happen to be in the same room together, and even that's rare as is. He typed back a quick "ok", and slid the phone back into his pocket, staring at the wall in front of him.

Natasha passed by in front of him as she was carrying a box of napkins, giving him a smile. He gave one back, trying to maintain his breathing.

That night he was invited to stay with her again, earning hard looks from her father again, but Lorenzo gladly accepted the invitation. While she was taking a shower, he let himself stretch out on her bed, dozing off a bit when the bedroom door opened and he looked up to see Harry leaned against the doorframe. "I think she was glad to see you," he said carefully, studying Lorenzo.

"I was hoping for it, if I'm being honest," Lorenzo said as he sat up with a flinch. He licked his lips and said carefully, "Natasha's a... well, she's lovely, I think."

Harry drew a sharp breath and then let it out slowly, shaking his head a bit. "Annie has told me for a while she's not my little girl anymore. I suppose it took a stranger sneaking into my home and not running off for good to let the idea settle in," he said cautiously, like he had to rehearse it beforehand. "I can say this to you now, Lorenzo, you treat her good, take care of her, you will be welcome in my home. But, if you hurt her-" he cut himself off, closing his eyes and probably repeating his wife's words to himself in his head. Lorenzo watched steadily, seeing him wipe his face with his thick hand. "Be good to her."

He nodded and said quietly, "Long as I can help it, sir, I'll take care of her." They heard a squeak as the shower down the hall was turned off. "You got my word, Harry," he finished with an affirming smile, but was just met with more staring. Harry nodded after a moment, and left the doorway. He heard a door close softly down the hall, and after a moment it was Natasha coming through the bedroom door, wrapped up in towels with a light steam following her. He flicked his eyebrows and made to get up to leave the room to give her privacy before she closed the door, and he set himself back down on the bed.

He swallowed and asked her as she stepped past and toward a dresser in the corner, "You err, you need me to get you anythin'?" He kept his eyes averted toward the door as he heard one of the towels drop.

"Nah, I was just gonna see if you needed a smoke, since I was about to head out for one," she said casually. He heard clothes being slipped on and thought that it had been some hours since he had one.

"Sure, wouldn't mind one," he said as he hazarded a glimpse at her, tying off a pair of sweatpants, still with a towel wrapped around her hair, but no top, and he quickly averted his eyes again. Steady breaths, he told himself. He cleared his throat and asked her, "Hey, uh, think we could get some music going? I got my phone on me if you'd like, lot's of Primo and shit like that, you know."

"Go for it, man," she chirped. He eagerly pulled out his phone, connected to the bluetooth speaker she pointed out on her desk and finally got some music going to focus on. He was tapping his knee, heard her peel open the carton of Southports he got for her. She gently elbowed his shoulder, getting his attention, "Thank you for these, by the way." He nodded with a shrug, pretending she still didn't have her boobs out like she did. He heard her open the window and start climbing through, and he turned to see her standing on the fire escape, smacking a pack of cigarettes against her palm. He sighed and grabbed a pack of his own, and clambered through the window to join her, and got some snickers from her as his legs got caught on the way out. He straightened up when he got his balance, giving a triumphant grin, and they stood there on the corrugated metal smoking and tapping to the bluesy-funk music flowing from inside the window, listening to the dying down city life be filtered out by air conditioners and the hum of the highway.

After the song had finished, he flicked his ashes over the edge to the alley below, thinking back to the texts he got from Eddy. He felt his face harden in the darkness, and piped up, "Hey, Tasha, you gotta know, I might have some more worky shit coming up soon. In the morning, prolly."

She looked over at him, taking a drag. "Will you be gone long again?" He blinked and turned. "I thought you had just up and left, you know. This morning."

His heart sank, and he drew a breath. "I know, and I'm sorry. I had shit I had to do before leaving work last night, but then we went out, and we came here, and err," he trailed off, and felt himself get red. "I know I took a minute. I didn't know I'd be going all over town, and with Eddy it's always a state of him saying jump and you asking how high-"

He stopped himself realizing what he was skirting around saying, hearing her say after a pause, "Eddy seems like an asshole, anyways." He nods with an agreeing sigh. They both take a drag. "I thought um" she starts again, and he braces himself. "I thought you would just organize deliveries, I didn't know you had to do them too."

Another drag, he exhales a cloud of greyish smoke into the alley. His heart was in his throat again. "Ed ain't the type to help with legwork, if you catch my drift." He gives her a glance, and she's studying him. He goes back to watching the smoke cloud dissipate in the soft light from the streets.

"Lorenzo," she says gently, rolling her cigarette between her knuckles. "You can tell me if something's wrong, you know." All he could manage to do is look at her, wide-eyed, her own eyes full of newfound concern. He shook his head and swallowed, looking down at nothing. "Okay," she whispered. "That's okay."

He's suddenly very aware that he was gripping the railing with white knuckles, and was almost hyperventilating. He felt her rub his back, and he caught his breath, closing his eyes and hitching his head. Flashes of Marco staring at him like a ghost zipped through his mind, Eddy asking about Marco's cousin, now Donny wanting to talk to him personally. He felt his eyes get hot and his breathing getting more ragged, focusing on her whispering "Hey," to him, like he was a little crying baby, and that made him somehow feel better and worse at once.

After several minutes and back-to-back cigarettes, Lorenzo had collected himself, apologizing quietly for the drama. She shushed him, rubbing his back, much like he did for her just the night before at the riverwalk, he thought. There is no way she didn't know he was up to something, now.

When they clambered back in through the window, she didn't laugh at him when his leg got caught, and she offered him a pair of pajama pants, saying that he wasn't about to wear his ratty old jeans in to her bed. After changing, eyes averted from him, they turned down the speaker still playing music a touch and climbed underneath the covers. Lorenzo was so exhausted that he didn't pay any mind to her bare chest pressed against his, quickly drifting off to deep sleep in the warmth of her bed.

By the time he woke up and checked his phone, taking care not to disturb Natasha curled up on his side, he had two texts from E, one from 6:44 AM and the other 7:08 AM - just a few minutes ago.

_ Donny wants to talk now. LMK where you are and I can pick you up._

_ Don't go avoiding me dude. Somethings going down._

Lorenzo sighed slowly, the sleep in him being dashed away with sudden worry about what might be happening. He texted the pizzaria address to Eddy, rolled out of the bed and slid his pack of smokes and his phone into his pocket, and after a moment of hesitating, looking back at Natasha still fast asleep, he closed the door and crept out of the restaurant, wringing his fingers as he looked up and down the street for Eddy's car.