We step outside right as Wilde, Ziggy, and Rooney are tugging a hot water system off the back of the truck.
“What’s this?” I ask as Hudson goes to help them.
“Ziggy’s idea,” Wilde grunts. “Apparently, he’s not okay with you continuing to take cold showers.”
Hudson lets go of the system suddenly. “Sounds like I picked the wrong wild man.” He whacks Wilde on the shoulder. “Why don’t you care about me?”
“Believe me, I’ve tried not to.”
Rooney looks around at us all. “Isn’t this nice? So much love in the air. Who would have thought we’d have so many blossoming romances to swoon over?”
I swear Wilde growls at him.
“After that reaction,” I say, “I think it means Ziggy and I win. First, my songbird, and now hot water? My man spoils me.”
“To be fair,” Rooney jumps in, “this was a team effort. Ziggy’s idea and execution, Wilde gave the okay for the money, and I went and sourced. Thethreeof us are spoiling you.”
“Why are you bothering though? You don’t owe us anything.”
“It’s technically my job.”
“Hey, maybe you could hook up with Hartwell and?—”
“Say another word and die.” Hart crosses his arms tightly, and it draws Rooney’s attention.
“What’s wrong, handsome? Not into men?”
Hart doesn’t answer.
“Pity, because there’s nothing I love more than a negative wet blanket who wouldn’t know a scrap of happiness if it bit him in that delicious ass.”
Hart glares harder, and I stare at Rooney, who keeps on smiling.
“Sorry that I’m not pretending to love this shithole,” Hart grumbles.
“No, no, don’t apologize. You continue on with this …” They set down the system, and Rooney waves a hand toward my twin. “Too-cool-to-care, growly, grumpy black cat attitude. The rest of us will enjoy our day.”
My brother doesn’t bother answering, just turns on his heel and heads back inside.
The others start talking about where to start, while I approach Ziggy.
“You did this for us?”
He turns an eye-shining smile on me.
Because of course he did this. Ziggy is the most considerate guy I know. He’s never made me anxious or like I have to try to get his attention. He’s never made me feel like I’m doing something wrong.
If I start fussing or getting too much, he gives me a calming look, and all the writhing anxiety of losing him fades away.
Ziggy knows exactly what my demons are, and I know his.
Things might not have started with a bang like I’ve always assumed romances do, but that was half of my problem. Trying to force something that didn’t fit.
With him, I fit.
And he never lets me doubt it.
The way he squeezes my hand and looks at me gives me my answer.
