“You…” he tried again. “You’re…”
“Yeah,” Chase said quietly.
No bravado. No teasing.
Just acknowledgment.
Heat rushed up Tommy’s neck, embarrassment first, then disbelief, then something stranger.
Electric.
Because underneath the shock, his body hadn’t recoiled. His mind spun, but something deeper in him remained steady, aware, present.
“You didn’t know?” Chase asked carefully.
Tommy shook his head. “No.”
“You guys know each other?” Logan asked, confusion threading through his voice.
Tommy let out a slow breath, still trying to anchor himself.
“Yeah,” he said.
He pushed himself upright, pulling the sheet loosely over his lap more from instinct than modesty. His pulse still raced, attention split between past and present in a way that felt impossible to reconcile.
“That’s Chase,” he added. “Our moms are best friends.”
Logan blinked. “The birthday party?”
Tommy nodded once. “Yeah. That birthday party.”
A quiet beat passed.
“We grew up together,” Chase said evenly.
Tommy huffed softly. “That makes it sound nicer than it was.”
Logan glanced between them. “Okay, I’m missing context.”
“Chase was perfect,” Tommy said, the old rivalry slipping into his tone before he could soften it. “Same schools, same family events, holidays. Our moms treated us like built in best friends.”
“Lots of comparisons,” Chase added.
Tommy gave a dry laugh. “Mostly me losing them.”
“That’s not true,” Chase said automatically, then corrected himself. “And we were friends, just didn’t have as much in common as we got older.”
Tommy shot him a look. “You were varsity everything at fifteen. Good grades. Everyone loved you.”
“We had different strengths,” Chase said quietly.
Logan lifted his hands slightly. “Alright. I’m starting to understand the emotional layers here.”
The tension eased just enough for Tommy to breathe again.
Logan shifted closer beside him, a steady presence at his back.
“So,” Logan asked carefully, “are we okay?”
