I roll my eyes and find a drier spot.
He laughs. “You’ve gotten soft. What happened to the man who’d sit happily in a thunderstorm and drink his beer?”
“I got struck by lightning. And you didn’t bring beer, so…”
“Stop whining.”
I stop and take a moment to revel in my brother’s company. The last time we were alone together like this was two weeks before he left. We got drunk and he lectured me on taking care of myself. I lectured him on his hypocrisy, and we parted ways a few days later with mutual frustration. Back then, it had felt as if nothing would ever change, but it doesn’t feel like that anymore. Gabi might be the same man, but I’m not. The earth has moved for me, and not just in bed with Jax. I’m different. I wonder if Jax knows. Then I wonder how he couldnotknow. If Gabi can see my shadows so clearly, surely he can see the light too.
Or, maybe Eve’s told him I’m getting laid. Yeah. That makes more sense.
While these thoughts meander through my brain, Gabi watches me, smoking his Marlboro Lights. I eye the box. It’s nearly empty. “Are you trying to smoke them all before Eve wakes up?”
“Yup.”
“Then what?”
“Then I drink green tea and eat egg-white omelets or whatever.”
“She feeds me cider and macaroni.”
“Maybe you don’t annoy her as much.”
“You can fix that, though, right? Annoying her, I mean. All you gotta do is stick around.”
Gabriel blows smoke in my face. “Are you still banging your roommate?”
“I don’t have a roommate.”
“Answer the correct version of that question, then.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
I don’t know the answer. Gabi’s my brother and my best friend, when we’re not stuck in a perpetual loop of bad communication, but I don’t want to talk about Jax like he’s a notch on my bedpost. Fucking him is incredible, but I’d give it up to just be with him.
“Wow.” Gabi lets out a low whistle. “So it’s true.”
“What is?”
“That you’ve got it bad, brother.”
The only person on earth who could’ve told him that is Eve. And after Thanksgiving, I can hardly blame her. She walked in on us the morning after. Jax was still asleep, naked and splayed out on my chest, and despite drunkenly vomiting my soul to him before we’d passed out, I was the happiest I’ve been in, like, ever. That I can remember, at least.
Wrong word. It wasn’tdespitehaving a difficult conversation. It wasbecauseyou did. Wake the fuck up.
My subconscious kicks me in the dick. I slow-blink while Gabi watches, his expression an infuriating mix of concern and amusement. A whoosh of air escapes me, and it’s ridiculous. It’s hardly an epiphany to realize that talking to Jax is good for me. That talking to anyone or anything that isn’t the depressive devil on my shoulder can only be positive. But the connection between that and the warmth in my gut feels brand new. As if I’m seeing it for the first time now I have my sardonic asshole of a brother for an audience.
Words bubble up my throat and fall out of me before I can stop them. “I don’t have anything bad. I fucking love that dude.”
Gabi nods, expecting the confession. “Have you told him?”
“Not yet.”
“Well, get on with it,” he says. “Don’t be me. Don’t wake up in another fucking state and realize you’ve only got one chance left to make shit right.”
“Is that why you’re here? To make shit right?”
