“You can’t just declare someone family on sight,” Abbie snorts.
“I didn’t,” Ciarán insists, palms up like he’s showing proof. “I gathered evidence and presented my findings based on facts.”
Gabe’s mouth quirks like he’s trying not to smile. “He stops by the shop most weeks. Seems nice—just a little awkward.”
“That ginger hair, all those freckles. And he’s awkward, too! Adorable,” Abbie squeals.
Aiden moves to the sofa and takes the corner, long legs stretched out, thighs spread, one arm along the back while he sips his tea. Ciarán gets up from the dining table and drops beside him, then swings his legs between Aiden’s like it’s his God-given right. My eyebrows fly up as my gaze shoots to Gabe in question. He rolls his lips between his teeth.
Abbie mutters a resigned, “Here we go.” Aiden doesn’t shove them off, though, just sets his jaw.
“Do you ever smile, Shaw?” Ciarán asks sweetly, tapping Aiden’s calf with the toe of his boot. “Or are you saving it for a special occasion?”
“Saving it for when you finally stop talking,” Aiden grumbles.
Gabe looks to the ceiling, taking a deep breath.
I’m getting the feeling this isn’t the first time something like this has happened. Why has Aiden never mentioned this before? It makes no sense, we’ve always spoken about everything. He’s mentioned Gabe’s friends in passing before, but never details, never that he and Ciarán are apparently in some weird showdown.
Abbie turns the kettle on. “New bet. If Ciarán gets a smile out of Aiden before I pour more tea, Aiden buys the pastries next time. If not, Ciarán does Gabe’s dishes for a week.”
“I don’t mind doing dishes, I’d rather him clean the toilet,” Gabe pipes up, making me snort and mouth, “demanding,” at him with faux shock. He dips his chin, but I see the edge of his gleaming smile, teeth on show. It’s gorgeous. Everything about him is. I just wish he'd aim that thing directly at me, let me bask in its beauty.
Ciarán grins, cerulean eyes sparkling. “Finally, a worthy challenge.”
“Don’t bother, you won’t get one,” Aiden mutters.
Ciarán steals his mug, takes a sip, and grimaces. “No sugar. Of course. Even your tea is boring.”
Aiden snatches it back, placing it on the table, nostrils flaring. “I’mnotfucking boring.”
“Mhmm.” Ciarán tears off a piece of croissant, holding it out. “Feed me, Daddy?”
Aiden stares, unblinking. “Absolutely not.”
Ciarán pops it into his own mouth and licks his fingers suggestively. The glint of a tongue bar shows. He drags his gaze from Aiden’s mouth back to his eyes purposefully. The little shit is really trying to get a rise.
I peek at Gabe. He’s already looking at me, shoulders shaking with silent laughter at the look on my face. “Shouldwe make our own bet? Five dollars on each bestie?” I whisper conspiratorially.
He shakes his head, a sly grin showing. “Nah. That’s like taking candy from a baby, my besties got this.”
That makes me chuckle. It’s a pleasure all in itself to see his playful side.
“The broody thing’s really working for you,” Ciarán purrs.
“Shut up and eat your pastry,” Aiden grunts.
“With pleasure.” Ciarán crosses his legs between Aiden’s like he’s won.
Abbie speaks to Gabe. “Could I bring my GSA club to the store for a tour? I want to show them your range of queer books.”
Gabe brightens at that. “Oh yeah? That would be cool. I could do more goodie bags with YA queer stories.” His voice is so earnest, and the fact that he wants to do something for these kids to get them into reading makes me melt.
Ciarán swivels without missing a beat. “I could do a ten-minute intro on queer joy in fiction. I’ve edited some amazing stories lately.”
“Classroom-friendly,” Abbie warns.
“I can behave for ten minutes.”
