I nod, blinking rapidly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”
A grin spreads over Oakley’s face—one so big, I swear I’d just handed him the Stanley Cup. “Good. Because I’m gonna need a best man, and I want that to be you.”
The statement momentarily causes my brain to short-circuit before I manage to ask, “Wait, you proposed?”
It must come out a little louder than I thought, because his eyes bug out and he quickly hushes me.
“Shh. No, not yet. But it’s gonna be pretty soon, I think.”
This time, it’s my turn to smile.
Even through my bitterness toward Oakley, I’ve come to realize just how good of a guy his boyfriend is. And I already know Mom and Dad will be thrilled to have him officially become family.
Shit, from the way Dad was acting at the airport, he already considers Quinton a son.
“I…damn, Oak. That’s really good news.”
“I’m glad you think so,” he agrees, his gaze searching my face briefly. “So, can I take that reaction as a yes?”
“Uh, but shouldn’t, like, Holden or one of your friends be your best man?”
A low laugh leaves him, and he shakes his head. “Holden willbe butthurt by it, I’m sure. But I want my brother by my side for this.”
My teeth snag my lower lip, gnawing on it while I try not to let my emotions get the better of me. And it’s only when I feel like I can speak clearly that I nod.
“Okay. Yeah, I’d be honored.”
He grins as he rises from his stool, reaching a hand out in my direction. “C’mere.”
Before I know it, I’m standing too, my brother’s arms wrapped around me tightly in what might be our very first hug. The warmth and strength of his embrace sets something off inside me, causing all the emotions I’ve struggled to keep at bay to finally break free.
My arms slide around his body, clutching him to me as a few stray tears spill over my lashes. I can feel Oakley struggling to keep it together too, his chest damn near vibrating with all the repressed feelings we’ve finally released.
“Remember something for me, okay?” he starts, his voice slightly graveled. “Hockey or no hockey, you’re a Reed. You always have been and always will be.”
I nod, my cheek brushing against his shoulder with the movement. But it’s all I can manage, my airway constricts, emotions overwhelming me and threatening to spill free all over again. Almost as if he can sense it, Oakley’s arms become tighter around me, holding all those pieces together, before releasing me.
He keeps one hand on my shoulder, though, giving it a gentle squeeze as he finds my watery gaze.
“And if you think it’ll help, I can try talking to Dad. Get him to lay off on the school stuff. You deserve to chase your dream too, no matter how much of a long shot it might seem to him.”
I nod again before wiping my eyes, hating myself for crying right now. I guess the only saving grace is that he’s not fairingany better.
“All right. Get some sleep,” he says, his voice still rough. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Yeah, g’night,” I manage past the knot in my throat. “Love you, Oak.”
“Love you too, Loge.”
With those parting words, I leave my brother and head to the bathroom, needing a few minutes to collect myself and get ready for bed.
It’s not lost on me that my conversation with Oakley was one of the few moments today where Camden wasn’t front and center in my thoughts. With it being over now, my brain has firmly returned to its current hyperfixation, especially when I finally step through the door of our bedroom.
The room is dark, but I can still make out Camden’s form in the bed, thanks to the dim glow of the city seeping through the edge of the blinds.
A lump reforms in my throat as I cross the room to the dresser, setting my phone on the charger and dropping today’s clothes in the empty side of my suitcase. He still hasn’t moved an inch when I turn back toward the bed, and I realize there’s a chance my conversation with Oakley was long enough for him to fall asleep.
I feel more vulnerable than ever, stripped down emotionally and literally—wearing only boxers now—as I hesitantly inch closer to the bed.
