I take another sip, thinking. “I was going to make pancakes. Jason’s favorite hangover food.” I still feel bad we barely made it to dinner last night. Pancakes seem like a decent peace offering.
“Good thinking,” Thomas says, suddenly serious. “We want him in a good mood if we’re gonna break the news.”
I blink. My heart picks up as it hits me what he’s saying. “You’re sure you want to do that today?”
I mean—I’m in. Fully. I just didn’t expect him to be okay with rushing it, especially considering he’s barely out to anyone.
“I am,” Thomas says simply. “I’ve wasted enough time, Carter. I don’t want to keep doing that. But if you’d rather hold off—”
I shake my head, cheeks warming. I know he said he was serious, but I didn’t realize he meant this kind of serious. The kind that plans. The kind that talks to Jason. My heart squeezes, and I can’t help smiling, a little flustered. “I’m good. Just...it’s gonna be awkward.”
“Exactly,” Thomas says. “Which is why we should get it over with. He’s gonna find out either way—better it comes from us.”
He’s right. As much as I hate the idea of sitting Jason down like we’re breaking bad news, I hate the idea of sneaking around even more.
“Okay. So I make pancakes, we have breakfast, and then we tell him?”
Thomas nods. “Yep. And after that, I need to dig my car out of that lot next to Gigi’s.”
“Oh—shit, right,” I blink. “It’s still out there somewhere under a mountain of snow. I should check on mine too, see if the shop’s called.”
“Cool. So—breakfast, Jason, car errands,” Thomas says, then hesitates. “And after that…maybe we head to my place? You could stay over, if you want.”
He tries to say it casually, but the faint pink in his cheeks gives him away.
“Sounds great,” I say, trying to sound casual—like my heart isn’t attempting a full jailbreak.
Thomas practically beams, and I can’t help beaming back. I turn to the fridge to hide the fact that my face is probably the color of a stop sign and start rummaging for pancake ingredients. That’s when my phone buzzes.
I pull it out, expecting maybe a weather alert or something from the group chat—but it’s four texts from Logan.
Logan:Don’t say you told me so
Logan:But I hooked up with Min
Logan:And asked him out
Logan:He’s amazing
I blink at the screen, rereading just to make sure I’m not hallucinating. It’s not April Fool’s, right? Because this definitely reads like a prank. I type out a response.
Me:Is this supposed to be a joke? If yes, it’s not funny, Logan.
His replies come in rapid-fire bursts.
Logan:Not joking
Logan:We had sex
Logan:It was amazing
Logan:And you’re right, I’m in love with him
I just stare at my phone, frowning. For a second I consider calling him—or calling an ambulance toDrip. He might’ve gone full hypothermic and started hallucinating.
Logan’s been off dating for four years—ever since Jamie, his boyfriend of nearly six, cheated on him with another guy. Since then, he’s been living on a strict one-night-stand diet, dodging second dates and emotional attachment like they’re contagious. And now he’s suddenly in love with Min? The cute guy from the flower shop next door to our café? Please.
I mean, yeah, Logan’s obviously had a massive crush on him forever, but he’s always denied it. Just flirted shamelessly every time Min walked in, never crossing the line because, quote, he “doesn’t pee where he drinks,” or whatever that means.
