He greets Jesse’s mom first, wrapping her in a warm hug, thanking her for the welcome home dinner. When he turns toward me, there’s a flicker of hesitation. It’s barely noticeable, but for just a second, his smile seems almost unsure.
I stand up too fast.
For a heartbeat, I don’t know what to do with my hands. With my face. With the ache in my chest that feels like relief and grief tangled together.
Then, with a soft huff of laughter, Ari steps forward and loops his arms around my neck.
I take what might be my first deep breath since he walked away from me and hold on to him for probably too long.
He smells the same—like clean laundry and herbal shampoo. Familiar enough that my throat tightens painfully. I close my eyes for half a second and let myself have it. Just for a second, I have him. Just him, solid and warm and real in my arms again.
When he pulls back, his hands slide down my arms, and I catch a glimpse of something new.
I catch his hand in mine and turn it over gently. There’s fresh ink on the inside of his wrist. Simple, clean script that would have been easy to miss if I wasn’t looking so closely.
Worthy
My breath leaves me in a rush I can’t control.
“This is new,” I say, not wanting to let go of his hand. “When did you get it?”
“Almost a month ago,” he says casually. Like the fact that he’s been gone for that long isn’t immense and cavernous. Like the presence of one simple word isn’t something beautiful and heartbreaking all at once. Like it isn’t rearranging something fundamental inside me.
I stare at it longer than I should. The placement. The word. The meaning. My thumb instinctively brushes over the delicate script. I so badly want to press my lips against it.
Ari smiles fondly, but cautiously, and takes a small step back. I release his wrist, realizing how strange and yet completely like myself I’m being.
Dinner passes in a blur of conversation. Ari talks animatedly about a show he saw in New York. He and Naz discuss the transitions they’ve been working on long distance. We talk about the new tour plans, which are going to be a lot different from what we’re used to, with fewer shows and more rest days. I have to hand it to Blake, he’s been pushing for balance like it’s a moral crusade. I thought he was only filling in as manager until they found someone else, but he’s sticking with us.
Naz brings up Blake’s announcement that we’re being considered for the Superbowl halftime show. He’s really the only sports guy among us, but it would definitely be a career milestone.
Jesse shrugs. “I don’t really care one way or the other. It’s not really my thing, but I’m down if y’all want to.”
“I only care about football because of tight pants,” Ari deadpans.
Jesse high-fives him without missing a beat.
I laugh with everyone else, but everything feels wrong. I feel like I’m watching Ari from a different room. Like I’m watching him from behind a television screen or something.
Jesse’s mom asks Ari how his flight was and where he’s staying.
“I, uh, I have an extra room available if you don’t want to stay in a hotel.”
“Oh, well thank you. Eric actually dropped my bags off at Naz’s place. I was going to crash there until we leave for the tour.”
I nod quickly, forcing a smile. “That’s cool. We’ll be neighbors. I got a place in the same building.”
Why is it so hard to breathe?
“That’s nice,” Ari says, and he sounds like he means it.
“Yeah, we can all go to rehearsals together, pick up Jesse on the way.”
Later, when we’re standing in the lobby of our condo building, I’m at a loss for what to say despite having so much I want to tell him.
“Thanks for the invite to stay with you,” Ari says quietly.
Fuck, this is awkward.It’s never been like this before.
