“Yeah,” I say thickly, my chest so tight I have to hold back my impulse to rub the ache away. “It makes sense, Law. You’re more than someone else’s interpretation of a label.”
His gaze holds mine, so much appreciation there I’m floored by it. His voice, when he speaks, is nearly a whisper. “Yeah. We all are.”
I manage a nod, that lead ball in my stomach twisting.
“Romantically, I don’t know what I am.”
I give Lawson a tremulous smile and go back to my dinner. It’s hard to finish, the food tasting ashen on my tongue.
It’s not exactly a surprise when Lawson makes it clear he’s staying the night. He brushes his teeth in my bathroom, picks out a pair of pajama pants from my dresser, and then grabs a t-shirt. Dressed comfortably, he climbs into my bed without a care in the world.
I’m slow to follow, taking my time in the bathroom, my pulse quick and a million different thoughts flitting through my head.
Could I be happy with what we have now? We’re practically acting like a couple already. Do I need it to meanmoreto Lawson?
Is this enough?
When I get back to the bedroom, Lawson looks halfway to sleep already. He turns his head my way, watching almost passively as I tug off my shirt. There’s no heat in his gaze, not that I expected there to be. No perusal of my body as my shorts join the pile on the floor.
“You mind?” I ask, indicating the boxer briefs I’m wearing. Frankly, I don’t know how Lawson sleeps with so many clothes on, especially in the heat of summer.
He shakes his head. “Why would I mind?”
Jesus, this man.
I climb onto the bed, the comforter already tossed down near the bottom, a sheet covering Lawson’s hips. The lamp is still on, but Lawson doesn’t turn over to shut it off. I can feel his stare like a palpable thing, and I finally turn my head to meet it.
It never ceases to amaze me how much life has passed while looking at this face I know better than anyone’s. I know every curve of Lawson’s cheeks and brow and jaw. Know how his beard hair grows and which spots are toughest for him to shave. I know that he’s never much thought about his eyebrows, yet he’s meticulous about keeping his hair tamed and off his face. I know which locks curl stubbornly in front and every line beside his eyes that grew over time, like a marker of the years he’s lived.
I know, now, how his cock feels when he’s hard. Know the way every muscle in his body relaxes when I’m getting him off, like he can finally,finallylet go of all the tension and responsibility in his life and let himself enjoy a few moments of pleasure. I know how his neck tastes. His sweat. I know the sounds he makes are masculine, grunts and hard breaths, and that he gives himself over wholly and fully, as if there’s no thought in his head I might harm him.
I’ve known Lawson for ages. From the time he was a young boy with more wisdom in his brown eyes than maybe a kid that age should possess. Through adolescence, teen angst, college, marriage, having a kid of his own. We’ve gone through so many changes, together, separately, but never once has he lost hissense of dreamlike wonder. That conviction that fairy tales are real because magic can be found anywhere if you look for it.
I can see it now in his eyes. That he’s witnessing something I don’t think any of the rest of us are even capable of seeing.
“What is it?” I ask, my throat dry.
“Nothing,” Lawson says, his hand coming up to run along my temple. It’s a fleeting touch, soft, warm, and then gone. “It’s just… You have the most gorgeous eyes I’ve ever seen, Oak.”
It takes me a long, long time to answer him. “You think so?”
“Always have. Everything is right in the world when you’re looking at me.”
Lawson doesn’t glance away as he says it. Isn’t self-conscious about the admission or embarrassed to have revealed something so absolutely…raw.
I can feel it, the whoosh of air past my ears as I fall clean down that rabbit hole. I’m gone. Utterly tumbled. And there’s no going back.
I’m head over heels in love with my best friend.
Chapter 19
Lawson
“Hold this,” my dad says.
I take the honeycomb frame he hands me, a few bees crawling over the surface. “Will they try to sting me?”
“Nah. And even if they do try, they won’t be able to.”
