Mom gives us each a quick hug goodnight before she and Dad retreat down the hall to their room, leaving the four of us in the foyer. Oakley heads over to the kitchen and starts digging through the fridge for something to eat.
“You guys want anything?” he asks over his shoulder. “We’ve got leftovers from that Italian place from last night, or I could make breakfast for dinner. Omelets or—”
“I think I’m gonna go to bed too,” Camden says beside me.
It’s just after eleven—still relatively early for the city that never sleeps—so it’s surprising he’s looking to turn in already. Oakley must be thinking along similar lines, because he peeks out from behind the fridge door with a frown.
“You sure, man?”
“Yeah, it’s been a long day,” Camden insists, catching my eye when he motions toward me with his thumb. “Teaching this one to ice skate earlier kinda took it outta me.”
Heat creeps over my face as Quinton’s and Oakley’s attention falls to me, both of them seemingly too stunned to speak. Camden doesn’t notice, though, instead offering me a tight smile before heading down the hall and disappearing into our bedroom.
I’m rooted in place by awkwardness for a couple seconds, still aware of my brother’s focus fixed on me.
“I think I’m good on food, baby,” Quinton says before pressing a kiss to my brother’s temple. “I’m just gonna start a load of laundry and then ice my knee in bed.”
“Okay,” he murmurs. “I’ll be there in a bit.”
Not wanting to spend any more awkward moments with my brother than necessary, I start slowly creeping my way toward the hall while he’s distracted grabbing the ice for Quinton.
“Yeah, I’m gonna turn in too, so—”
“Actually, do you have a sec, Logan?” my brother asks, his gaze finding me again.
Fuck, no. Nope. Nada.
Unfortunately, the words thatdoleave my mouth are “Uh, yeah. Sure.”
Though my body is screaming for escape, I walk into the kitchen and pull out a stool at the island while Oakley heats up some leftovers. Quinton wishes me a good night before disappearing down the hall, Oakley watching him go the entire time.
Which leaves the two of us alone, facing off across the counter.
My brother’s silent for what feels like a millenia, the only sound in the entire house coming from Quinton watching television down the hall in their bedroom. That, and the squelching sound Oakley’s pasta makes as he stirs it once it’s warmed up, making me never want to eat Italian ever again.
He must have noticed me staring at it, because he once again offers, “You want anything?”
To get the fuck out of here.
But knowing he means food, I shake my head and drop my gaze to the counter top. My fingers trace the marble veining, studying the variations of color in each line while feeling Oakley’s stare on the top of my head.
It’s awkward as hell, but he’s the one who askedmeto stay, not the other way around. I’m sure as hell not gonna be the one to break the silence.
“I’m glad you’re here, you know,” he finally says.
I glance up and nod, sharing none of his sentiment, but knowing better than to say it aloud. Even still, my brother is smart enough to read between the lines; using my lack of response as a response in itself.
His tongue pokes at his cheek while he stirs the pasta in frontof him some more, only to gently set the fork aside and look up at me. For what might be the first time in our lives, Oakley looks completely disarmed and vulnerable, his deep-brown eyes soft and full of emotion as he stares at me.
“I know we’re not close, and my opinion probably doesn’t hold much weight for you,” he says slowly, measuring his words, “but I want you to know I’m really happy for you and Cam. He’s a good guy.”
“One of the best,” I say, noting there’s quite a bit of truth to the statement. It just took a fake relationship with him for me to realize it. “I’m just glad you’re not pissed at him for it. He cares about your friendship a lot, so…”
Nodding, he replies, “Well, it’s weird, not gonna lie, but I’m not upset by it. Mostly just confused, because I don’t understand how it happened.”
That makes two of us, apparently.
“I think it kinda snuck up on us both,” I tell him, aiming for the half-truth.
