Jax gives me an intense look and leaves the kitchen. After telling the kid washing dishes that I won’t be long, I trail Jax in time to see him hustling Tanner away from the bar.
They head outside, taking the alley that leads to the bottom of a disused fire escape. It’s broken, but sturdy. Jax climbs it like a spider monkey and Tanner follows using sheer brute strength. A month ago, or however long it’s been, both displays would’ve enthralled me, but I barely notice Jax’s lithe agility, or Tanner’s bunched muscles. I’m too eager for my daily dose of Kai.
I haul myself up the fire escape. At the top, I find a utilitarian balcony. It’s loaded with three pizza boxes, beer, and a tangled pile of limbs that is Jax and Tanner all over each other in the corner.
No Kai.
A strange feeling gnaws at my chest. It’s not anxiety, or ADHD mania. It’s longing. Yearning. Despite flying through an evening where everything I’m good at has come together without disaster, I feel adrift. Like I’m not a whole person right now.
That ain’t healthy.
No. Maybe I’m describing it wrong. I’m still me, but I want more for myself and my lonely fucking heart.
You lonely, bro?
I don’t know why I hear that in Kai’s voice. Just that he makes me laugh without needing to be all up in my face. And I don’t have to wait long for him to show up for real. The fire escape creaks. I spin around and there he is, corded arms popping as he eases himself onto the balcony with the perfect mix of grace and strength.
He scoots to sit beside me. Tanner and Jax disentangle themselves and pass over the beer.
It’s cold and wet. I didn’t know how much I needed it until it’s sliding down my throat.
“Eat.” Jax pushes a pizza box closer.
I’m not hungry. In fact, I’m sick of food. But Jax is wise, and he knows me well. I start eating and can’t stop. I’m in a carb coma, and I don’t give a shit.
I lean against Kai and close my eyes. A distant, nagging voice tells me there’s a reason I shouldn’t do it, but it’s too faint to discern. I even half forget I have a kitchen to close down. Only the sound of Kai’s deep and quiet laugh keeps me awake.
It’s a sound from heaven, and it comes hand in hand with his smile.
Unwilling to miss it, I force my eyes open. Tanner looks how I feel. His head is in Jax’s lap, dark eyes hooded and heavy. Jax is laughing, like Kai, and I wonder if they’re laughing at us. At Jax’shusbandand me…Kai’s roommate.
Blah. I ignore the convoluted mess of that and lean on Kai some more. He feels so good it’s hard to imagine I’ll have to tear myself away from him in a few minutes.
Jax is telling Kai about his family back home. I know these stories, so I don’t pay attention until I hear my name. “Hmm?”
“I was telling Kai that you should’ve been a biker. All leather and ink and shit.”
I snort. “That’s my uncles and cousins, not me. My dad cleans trains on the Jubilee line.”
Kai tilts his head to look at me. “What’s that?”
“Tube trains,” I explain around a yawn. “London underground. Keeps him out of trouble. Unlike the relatives Jax is talking about. I lived with them for about ten minutes when I was a teenager, but I’m not built for that life.”
“What life are you built for?”
“I’m a wanderer, man. I go where the wind takes me.”
It’s the response I’ve given so many times before, in my head and out loud, an answer I own with every part of my vagabond soul, and Kai accepts it with a slow nod.
So why does it feel so fucking hollow?
I feel like I should know the answer. That someone else would. But that person isn’t me, and I’mtired. I need to clean the kitchen Kai built and fall into bed.
His or mine.
As long as we’re together, I don’t fucking care.
19
