Resilient.
I know how much he struggled yesterday. I saw the bone-weary exhaustion in his face by the time we went our separate ways for bed. The haunted look in his eyes when I got home yesterday, the way he reacted to me raising my hand to fix my hair.
I couldn’t sleep for so long, replaying the moment over and over. I wish I could take all his fears away, hold him close, and protect him. I’m not sure how I can support him. But I will.
Now he’s here. For me… I hope it’s for me, anyway. Gabe doesn’t usually break routine. He keeps to what he knows, keeps to safe ground. And I think it means something that he’s here now, especially after yesterday.
The dopey grin on my face feels impossible to stop.
Ciarán follows behind him, high leather boots thudding against the rubber flooring, cropped tee flashing lightly defined abs on olive skin, black pleated skirt swishing with an oversized blazer.
He hops up onto the counter with all the confidence in the world, crossing his legs and smiling demurely. I’ve never seen him dressed like this, and judging by the way Aiden’s mouth drops open and his brow furrows like he’s solving a math equation, neither has he. I love my best friend, but if he so much as hints at a problem with Ciarán’s outfit, we’re going to have an issue. I don’t like the way he’s been acting toward Ciarán, sometimes the banter is fun, and I can see they both enjoy it. But other times, I worry Aiden seems to genuinely dislike him, andGabe told me Ciarán’s softer than he lets on. I’ve been trying to stay out of it, but Ciarán is important to Gabe, so he’s important to me.
Plus, the little shit has really grown on me. He shows up at the store or apartment regularly, subtly—well, as subtly as his personality allows—checking in on Gabe. The fridge constantly has homemade Italian dishes ready to be reheated. It’s ruining my plans to cook with Gabe, but it’s also so delicious I can’t be too upset. And we still eat together each night.
“Um…hi. We brought lunch from Kindle’s,” Gabe says, lifting the bag slightly, shifting on his feet. He nervously adds with an awkward laugh, “Small-town life, you can close whenever you want for lunch.” His eyes flit around the space like he’s checking for exits, I can feel the anxious energy coming off him.
I step closer, his gaze flying to mine and holding.
He glances toward the speaker, mouth twitching. He shakes his head with a little chuckle. “‘Eye of the Tiger,’ really?”
“Of course,” I echo, fighting the urge to laugh. Because he came here, unannounced, with food and that shy little smile. Because last night, he kissed me again. After panicking. After everything. He kissed me anyway.
Ciarán narrows his eyes at me like my playlist is a personal insult. He props his chin on his hand, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “You running a gym or a time machine?”
“Weird,” I say with a mock surprised tone. “You and Aidenfinallyfound something to agree on.”
Ciarán’s lips flatten while Aiden grunts in response, already leaning over the bag Gabe set down. “Please tell me that’s not kale. I’m not a rabbit.”
“It’s not kale,” Gabe says patiently, unpacking containers. “Chicken, couscous, and those lemon bars you both love.”
“You are my favorite brother,” Aiden declares with absolute seriousness, looking smug as hell.
I snort. Under the seriousness of parenthood, he’s still that goofy kid I grew up with.
Gabe rolls his eyes at him, the corner of his mouth quirking, and turns toward me. He passes over a cup, our fingers brush, and I see the smile he tries to hide, the way his cheeks pinken further. I fight the urge to groan loudly because he’s so fucking edible. I want to press my lips to his heated cheek and feel the warmth of it.
“The mint tea you like,” he murmurs, breaking me out of my wandering thoughts. I take it from him with a quiet, “Thanks.”
We sit at the small staff table tucked in the back corner, opening containers and passing forks.
“Rose is obsessed with dancing now,” Aiden says around a mouthful. “Full-on choreography to ‘Baa Baa Black Sheep.’ Arms everywhere. So cute.”
“Did you record it?” Gabe asks, eyes lighting up.
“Obviously,” Aiden says, lips tipping up. “I’ll send it to you.”
The pleased look on Gabe’s face melts me.
Aiden’s eyes flick down Ciarán’s bare legs again, the smooth line of skin above those heavy boots. His brow furrows again before he looks away, muttering something I can’t hear.
Ciarán grins, but it’s full of challenge, boot tapping agitatedly against the leg of his chair. “Problem?”
Aiden glares at him. “What? No.”
Ciarán’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say anything more. He turns toward Gabe. “Did you ever contact Wild Fern about events?”
“Oh, not yet, but I’m going to. I checked out their website, and they’ve done some great events recently. It’s a pity I missed them.” There’s a sadness to his tone, regret for missing things.
