“But be careful.”
Arsen frowned. “Careful? Why?”
Felix’s tone was smug. “He’s going to adopt Ever into the feelings faction and turn that sweet baby-faced dumpling into a mouthy, feral monster. Next thing you know, he’ll use phrases like ‘blanket burritos’ and ‘emotional support vodka.’”
The feelings faction. That was what Felix’s in-laws called the non-psychopaths of the family. They liked nicknames. They even had a name for Jericho’s crew. The murder muppets.
“Hello?” Felix said impatiently.
“You think I should ask Noah to come over and talk to Ever about kink? Isn’t that weird? Ever has been in a literal closet, maybe for years. Now, I’m going to have him sit down with a stranger to answer his sex questions?”
“You’re the one who brought it up in the first place,” Felix reminded him.
Arsen paced, winding through the cars still in the shop, inhaling the smell of motor oil and rubber tires. The smell soothed him somehow. It was familiar. It was home to him. “Should he even have sex questions after what he’s been through?”
“You said he’s nineteen, right?”
Arsen nodded even though Felix couldn’t see him. “Yes.”
“Didn’t you have sex questions at nineteen? Even if you were having them answered by every twink in a four-mile radius?”
Felix was exaggerating. There was a time when Arsen had been a bit…free with his experimentation, but that was years ago. Now, he took care of himself more often than not. It was just easier. No matter how many times the guy he went home with said they weren’t looking for a relationship, they always seemed upset when Arsen left without a word.
“I wasn’t two days out of a kidnapping.”
“Curiosity about sex is normal for everyone. Just because people have hurt him doesn’t mean he isn’t a nineteen-year-old with the same thoughts and feelings as others. Stop infantilizing him. He’s not some walking trauma response. Besides, you’re the one who brought it up in the first place and then you shut him down when he asked some pretty innocent and logical questions. You should apologize.”
Arsen looked up the stairs to the darkened glass. Was Ever still pretending to sleep or was he just upstairs avoiding Arsen? Maybe both. Who could blame him? Fuck. “How do I tell him he can talk to Noah?”
“Maybe don’t. Maybe just introduce him to Noah and let him guide the conversation. You suck at this.”
“I know!” Arsen cried then winced, glancing up once more. “I know,” he said more quietly. “I just want him to be okay. I don’t want to keep making him cry.”
There was another long pause and then Felix said, “Wow. You’re already so whipped. This is going to be fun.”
“You know I hate you, right?”
“Mm, it keeps me up at night. Oh, and Noah’s out of town until Friday, so good luck.”
“What? Friday? What do I do until then?”
“The kid has been trapped in a literal closet for years. Show him what he’s missed.”
“Missed?”
“Yeah. He looks at video games like they’re witchcraft. He acted like pizza was Wagyu beef. He’s clearly lacking in life experience. Buy him ice cream or sour gummy worms. Oh, chocolate chip cookies! Or bubble wrap or a sunset or buy him a puppy. You can show him a million firsts that have nothing to do with sex.”
“Oh.”
Felix snorted. “Yeah, oh. Gotta run. Good luck. Tootles.”
* * *
“You can show him a million firsts that have nothing to do with sex.”
Arsen sat behind the counter, making a list of things Ever may have never experienced, waiting for Jericho to arrive for his shift. Like most days, he arrived promptly at eight, giving him a wave before heading into his office to drop his stuff on his overcrowded desk.
Despite being married to a wealthy man, Jericho maintained a solid forty-hour work week—sometimes more—not only because he loved cars but because he loved the neighborhood, considered ithisneighborhood. Everyone knew if they were in trouble, Jericho was the one who could help. And Jericho needed to help people almost as much as the people needed help.
