I make aseegesture with my hands. “We all made mistakes. I just… I need you guys now. I see a future with Nolan, a beautiful one, if I can get him there. If he can see it too.”
Jackson squeezes his eyes shut, pinching his nose. “He sees it. I can’t betray trust because then I’d be a massive fucking asshole, and Harper would seriously punish me, but Nolan knows. He feels the same way you feel.”
I swallow hard because I knew that. I know that. “You’re pretty whipped by Harper.”
“Jesus Christ, that’s an understatement.” Jackson laughs, deep and low, before pinching my cheek. “You’re gonna be alright, Sunshine. Everything’s going to be alright.”
For the first time in a long time, I believe him.
“I like Harper, he’s funny.”
“Nolan’s funny, too.”
We smile at one another, some weird sort of truce developing between us. Jackson’s always been my secret favorite, even though half the time I want to murder him. We’re too alike, too headstrong, too focused on protecting to be anything more to each other than brothers. But I think at the end of the day, if I needed someone to kill for me, I could call Jackson and know I was safe.
Jackson hustles me back out onto the porch, where we chat about not-life-or-death topics for a few hours. It’s kind of nice to just not worry about anything for a little while. Just be normal.
“You need something just for you, Benji,” Jackson says with a sigh. “Putting all your focus on Nolan for now is fine, butnot for the future. What about all the traveling you love to do? All the cooking? Your huge social media following? You haven’t updated your socials in forever.”
I splay my hands wide and shrug. “Hard to do that the past few months without people figuring out somehow that I was on tour with Nolan.”
“I get that,” Jackson agrees, face still thoughtful. “Cooking? You could go back to school. I know you dropped out but look at you, you’re not made for a business degree in stuffy classrooms. Maybe culinary school? You’ll constantly be moving in a kitchen.”
Oh. I hadn’t ever thought of that. “You’re kind of smart, Jackson.”
Jackson rolls his eyes deeply. “Here we go.”
“Genius over here,” I tease some more, before getting serious again. “Cooking would be fun. I love to cook for Nolan and I like providing for people.”
“I’ll have Harper see if Beau or Colby know anyone.” Jackson reaches over to pat my cheek. “I’m afraid if we push it, we’ll end up killing each other. Wanna talk sports?”
“Thank God, neutral territory,” I say with a grin, feeling full and happy when Jackson’s booming laugh fills the space around us.
When Harper and Nolan wander into the house a while later, laughter echoing off the walls, my heart does that scary jump again that reminds me just how far deep I’m in.
And it does a crazy dive when they step through the back door.
Harper stands with his hands on his hips as he glares at us. “What’s going on here?”
“Planning a coup,” Jackson replies with a smirk. He pats his leg and Harper happily wanders over to perch himself onJackson’s lap. They share an easy smile, but my attention can’t stay on them because I’m captivated by Nolan.
He’s had his hair trimmed, making it just barely longer than it was a year or so ago, with tight black curls that've been his signature look for years. His nails are painted, too, a deep midnight blue. I stand from the chair and cross the distance between us. I want to tangle my fingers in his hair like usual, but I also don’t want to fuck it up because it looks way too damn good. Nolan grins at me, small and soft, because, of course, he knows the effect he has on me.
“You look good,” I say, voice thick.
“Do I?”
“Yes.”
Nolan swallows hard. “Wanna take me back to the apartment?”
“Yeah, I kind of really do.”
“Bye,” Nolan says loudly without tearing his gaze from mine.
I aim a lazy wave over my shoulder. Grabbing Nolan’s hand, I tug him after me until we’re climbing into the car we’ve been borrowing for weeks. I keep Nolan’s hand in mine the entire drive back, my heart pounding in my chest with each mile it takes to get us back home, back to our bedroom.
I always thought the movies were full of shit when they painted people as unable to keep their hands off of each other, clothes falling off as they climb stairs, hands roving bodies just to touch bare skin. But it is real when you love someone. I can’t stop touching Nolan even as I back him toward the bedroom. I can’t stop mapping his tattooed skin with the warm palms of my hands, feeling the vibrantly alive lines of his body. His lips are warm and supple against mine, like drinking ambrosia of the gods. His kisses make me feverish and they make me ache.
