“Hm. Yeah. Well, we haven’t been sleeping the best, but I think that’s finally sorted out.”
“Pretty sure the sounds I heard this morning werenotsnoring,” he said with a laugh, “but I won’t pry about how that works.”
I shrugged. “We’re actually, um, talking about trying to touch.”
Emory’s eyes widened. “Really?”
The customer ahead of us in line, a frazzled-looking mom and her three very indecisive munchkins—all boys, oy, my teacher heart twinged for her—finished her order. I was saved from answering as we stepped up to the counter.
Emory rattled off an order that seemed memorized. Two orders of sausage-and-pepper Zacos, a veggie, a three-meat, a Hawaiian, and a classic pepperoni. Emory turned to me expectantly. “What would you like?”
“Oh, um…” I focused on the guy taking our order, presumably the owner since he was in his late fifties and looked like someone who’d tell a boss to fuck off. “What do you recommend?”
“Sausage-and-peppers are the best, hands down, but our new buffalo chicken is pretty popular too.”
“I’ll take sausage, then.” I turned to Emory. “Did that order include something for Flynn, or is he on his own?”
“Oh! Yeah, Ray, please add a sausage for our new guy.”
“You got it.” He slid a plastic stand with the number 3 on it toward us. “Take a seat, and I’ll work on this.”
The doors chimed with another customer walking in. We turned, and I recognized Parker Reid, the grade school teacher we’d run into at the sports bar the first time I went out with Emory.
“Wow, this is a small town,” I joked.
Parker grinned. “Hi, guys. I see you all have good taste.”
“Shouldn’t you be in school?” I couldn’t help asking.
He glanced around guiltily, as if someone was going to catch him ditching. “It’s my planning period, and I couldn’t take another day of cafeteria food. I’ve been horribly lazy about packing lunches. I know it would be healthier, but…”
“You ran into us at Zacos,” Emory said. “We can hardly judge.”
“That’s true. We can indulge in our bad habits together.”
Emory chuckled. “We’re just sitting down to wait for our order. Join us after you put yours in, if you want.”
“Sure. Thanks.”
We found a table against the wall. There wasn’t much to choose from, considering there were only three. Zacos was built for takeout, not dining in. We took seats at a flimsy card table while Parker stepped up to the counter.
Emory leaned in. “Quick, tell me more. What exactly does Holden want to do?”
For some silly reason, my cheeks heated with a blush. “He wants to start with holding hands.”
“Aw,” Emory crooned. “That’s so adorable. Ilovethat for him!”
His enthusiasm was startling, and it brought home what a big deal this would be for Holden.
“Have you, um, ever seen him do that touch therapy with his brothers?” I asked tentatively.
“No. He’s pretty private about it, but I did see him hug Axel once when he was freaking out.”
“Really? I didn’t know he could do that.”
“Well, Axel was really upset, and Holden was afraid he was going to have a panic attack. He knows how awful that is, so I guess he pushed past it. Normally he’d ask Gray or Bailey to step in, but the dogs were in Axel’s lap, snarling at Gray, and Bailey and I were farther away. He pushed through for Axel’s sake, and then they were both pale and shaky.” Emory’s smile was sad. “The way these brothers love is incredible to see. But they’ve been through a lot, and it makes my heart hurt so bad for them.”
I nodded. “I can’t even imagine. I’ve been hit maybe twice in my whole life.” I rubbed my fingers over my jaw, my bruise gone but the memory lingering. “Never by someone who’s supposed to love me.”
