Aiden snorts, nearly choking on his protein bar.
I laugh, looking at my best friend. “You didn’t want Lucy’s name?”
He flips me the bird. “Oh, fuck off.”
That makes me cackle before turning back to the new guy.
“Theo,” he says, offering a hand. “Looking for somewhere I can lift without someone trying to sell meHerbalifein the locker room.”
“You’ve found the right place,” I tell him, sarcasm dripping from my tone. “We sellForever Living.”
“Perfect,” he snorts, then heads over to check out the equipment while I get his paperwork sorted.
Theo’s tattoos catch my eye as I run through the membership form with him. Among the heavy blackwork and sharp geometric lines, there are hidden delicate pieces—a small oak tree tucked near his wrist, a detailed guitar running up his forearm.
When we’re done, he looks between me and Aiden, then gives us a look that’s impossible to read and says, “You’re stuck with me now.”
Aiden leans toward me as Theo walks away to test a squat rack. “Is he joking, or…”
“No idea,” I whisper back, smiling. “But I like him.”
13
GABE
I haven’t stopped thinking about the moment the bookshelf collapsed yesterday. The day has gone by in a haze, and I was barely able to concentrate on getting anything done with that moment constantly infiltrating my thoughts. It’s not the sound, or the mess, or even my own spiral that I keep focusing on, but the way Noah handled it. Not with panic or awkward silence. Just an unwavering presence. Quiet, steadfast reassurance. He didn’t touch me, didn’t try to pull me out of it before I was ready.
He was so patient and kind with me, speaking softly and giving me comforting words. His voice cut through the memories invading my mind, like a life raft when I was drowning.
I like the way Noah speaks to me. His voice has this pull to it, steady enough that I found myself matching my breathing to his without even trying.
It’s not something I expected from him, that hidden quiet depth beneath the sunshine exterior. I don’t think he shows that to everyone. Or maybe most people just don’t look.
I smile as I think of his kind words and warm eyes. Something tilts inside me, like I’ve been leaning the wrong way for a longtime and just found my balance. It surprises me how easy it feels. It’s a draw. A sense of safety so strong it’s startling.
I trust him. He makes me feel safe.
It’s a similar feeling I have toward Abbie and Ciarán, like we’re linked somehow. I feel that same connection with Aiden, but with him, there’s another layer, it’s familial, too.
With Noah, it feels… different. More. Maybe it’s because he saw me in that moment. All the ugly parts I hide. I shouldn’t be surprised; he’s been in my life such a long time now, but I finally feel like I’m getting to really know him. He’s becoming mine, one of my safe places.
I’ve had a few panic attacks over the last year, but I’ve always been alone when they happen. Sometimes something triggers it, other times it comes out of nowhere. It can be everything and nothing at once. Dealing with them alone was hard, hiding how much they affected me. I don’t need to hide that from Noah; he saw it all, and he stayed.
I don’t know which of us was more shocked by me hugging him this morning. But it felt right. He was there for me, and he treated me no differently after. Didn’t make me feel like there was something wrong with me. It’s been years since I clicked with anyone outside of my inner circle. I’m friendly to most, but I never let them get close enough to see those damaged parts of me.
I should probably feel embarrassed that he saw me like that, but it’s hard to cling to it when he looks at me the way he does. As if he actually likes being around me, and I don’t really understand why.
I keep thinking about the tip of his compass tattoo peeking out from his top, the little N showing. I had the strongest urge to pull the neckline down and look at it. Without thinking, I dipped my head until my nose brushed it. It was a strange compulsion. Thecontact felt incredibly intimate, touching that piece of him that connected us through distance and time.
My heart thunders thinking about it. This isn’t the usual feeling of anxious panic, though, it’s… I don’t know what it is, but it doesn’t feel bad. It feels bright, vivid.
I want to know how the gym opening is going. Does he have that beaming smile on his face all day? Is he nervous? He’s always so confident, I can’t imagine him being nervous, but I know there’s depth hidden under that. I take my phone out a few times to text him, but I’m not sure what to say, and I don’t want to bother him if he’s busy.
By the time I’ve closed the shop, I feel raw from the last two days. I wander up to the apartment and kick my shoes off by the door. They land at odd angles, one half on the mat, one off.
Normally, I’d fix them. Not because it matters to me, but because somewhere along the line it became a habit, drilled in by someone else until it was automatic.
There are a lot of those. Keys had to be left in the exact same spot. Towels folded a certain way. Things I never cared about but did anyway, because it was easier than dealing with his sighs, his looks, his comments. His anger. I tried so hard to do thingshisway, and for what?
