“Awesome!” Seb grinned, refusing to let his brother see him sweat. “Really good. I’ve got a big show coming up.”
“Really?” Ollie’s question sounded genuine this time. “That’s great, Seb! When is it? Maybe I can come down.”
Seb’s grin faltered.
The show was a big deal, as Kenneth reminded him every time he called. A big step in his career. He pictured being toasted, celebrated by adoring patrons.
He had never pictured anyone from his family among the crowd.
“It’s, um, not for a bit yet. And anyway, don’t you think the partners would object to you sneaking away, even if it’s to bask in your screw-up artist brother’s glory?”
“You’re not a screw up.” Oliver’s face turned sad. The blue eyes they shared squinted at the screen, like he was trying to see if Seb was all right.
More like prying into his life.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “The comment about the partners still stands. How long a leash are they really going to give you?”
Oliver’s gaze shifted somewhere offscreen. Seb couldn’t be sure, but he thought his brother might be blushing.
“I—” Oliver cleared his throat, tugging at the collar of his shirt. A dark tie sat snug around his neck. The tie meant he’d been to work today, even though it was Saturday. “Don’t worry about that.”
The conversation died into silence again. Seb leaned back against the couch and stretched, making something in his shoulder pop.
“I ran into Greg Ellis the other day,” Oliver said.
Seb snorted. “That asshole? How is he?” He hadn’t thought of Greg Ellis in probably close to fifteen years, not since the last time Seb had blown him in their college dorm shower and told him he was done messing around with straight boys.
“Married. Fat. Working in the finance office on campus.”
“Perfect.” Seb laughed at the thought of poor, handsome, conflicted Greg, growing into a sedentary heterosexual life with a mortgage and the obligatory two-point-five kids.
“He says hi.” Oliver’s eyebrow arched.
“I’m sure he does.”
“Are you seeing anyone these days?”
“No.” Not like Oliver meant it. His brother had always been big on monogamy, whereas Seb preferred no-commitment hookups when he made time to visit Kenneth in the city. This had become especially true since he’d come to Seacroft, where dating opportunities were limited at best. The queer community in town was so small as to be nonexistent, or else so deep in the closet Seb would need a map of Narnia to find them.
“How’s Cooper?” Not that Seb cared. Cooper’s family had known Seb and Oliver’s since the dawn of history, but as a boyfriend for his older brother, Seb had never liked the guy. His name made him sound like he should be driving his Jag out to the coast on weekends to wine and dine Oliver on a yacht called theLady Clipperor something equally douchey.
Oliver cleared his throat. “Cooper and I broke up.”
“Small miracles, I guess. He was an ass.” No sense in sugarcoating it. Not that Seb had ever kept his thoughts on Cooper and his porcelain veneer smile to himself when Oliver had still been infatuated with him.
Oliver laughed. “Yeah, he was. Just took me a while to figure it out.”
Another lapse into silence. Seb’s finger hovered over the button that would end the call.
“Have you talked to Nana lately?”
Oliver’s question caught Seb by surprise. This was a departure from their usual pattern. Every few months, Oliver would call on a day when Seb was too busy to check the phone’s screen before he answered, or when he was feeling sorry for himself. The conversation was always brief and pointless, small talk between two people who shouldn’t have treated each other like strangers. Then Oliver would say he would come visit one of these days, and Seb would say he looked forward to it. The promise would hang there until their next stilted phone call.
The unspoken rule was that they never talked about the rest of the family. No matter what news Oliver might be calling to relay, they did not talk about their relatives. Ever.
“No, I haven’t talked to Nana in a bit.” He squashed a fluttery feeling in his chest.
“You should. She’d like to hear from you.”
