Doc's smile flickers, just for a second. "Yeah, they said they'd come."
"Good. I like them. Especially when JP gets that look like he's calculating exactly how many social interactions he can tolerate before he needs to leave."
Doc laughs. "That's his permanent expression."
"Are we telling the frat tonight?" I ask, squeezing his hand.
"That's the plan, right?"
"Yeah." I take a breath. "But I want to tell Tyler first. Before the meeting."
Doc nods, understanding immediately. "Of course. He's your best friend."
"And you should tell your roommates this afternoon. Before they hear it at the party."
"I was planning on it." He squeezes my hand back. "Meet you at the house later?"
"Wouldn't miss it."
We stop at the point where our paths split, him toward the geek house, me toward the frat. I pull him in for one more kiss, softer this time.
"I'm proud of you," I murmur against his lips.
Tyler's doorcloses behind us, and for a long moment, neither of us says anything.
The conversation was... a lot. Not bad. Just heavy. Tyler needed time to process, and I gave it to him, and somewhere in the middle of it all, he pulled me into a bone-crushing hug and told me he was happy for me even though he was going to miss me like crazy.
We're good now.
Ethan comes bounding up the stairs like an overexcited puppy. He takes one look at us, Tyler's slightly red eyes, my nervous expression, and stops dead.
"Is everything okay, guys?"
Tyler lets out a long breath. "Yeah. It'll be alright."
I pull him into another hug because I need it as much as he does. Then Ethan squirms his way in between us, wrapping his arms around both of us, and okay.Yeah. We're okay.
"Okay, seriously, what is going on?" Ethan demands, muffled against my shoulder. "You're freaking me out."
"It's good," I promise. "I'll explain later."
"Later? Why does everyone keep saying later?"
"Because we have a meeting to set up for." Tyler pulls back, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Come on. Let's go yell at people to pick up their crap."
Tyler hauls Ethan up in his arms and carries him down the stairs. We are alike in how much we love carrying our men.
Setting up for a frat meeting mostly involves hollering at brothers to move their stuff out of the common room.
"Rex! Your shoes are not a decoration!"
"Jeff, if I step on another one of your protein bar wrappers, I swear to God?—"
"Whose underwear is this? Actually, never mind, I don't want to know."
Tyler and I fall into our usual rhythm, moving furniture, stacking chairs, giving each other shit. It feels normal. Like maybe things really will be okay.
Ethan keeps shooting me suspicious looks, but he doesn't push.
