Shawn pursed his lips. “Really?”
Cass’s face opened up in a grin. “Hell yeah, it’s backup grill time, babe.”
Shawn let out a surprised giggle while he looked up at his husband, all the while dangling his fingers in front of his baby, which Carina tried to grab while she laughed along. “I mistakenly thought two grills was overkill,” he explained to me.
Cass draped his arm over his husband’s shoulders. “It’s okay,” he chuckled. “I did order twice as much pizza as we needed last time people came over.”
There was a twinge behind my ribs. Their relationship reminded me how much I wanted to feel grounded, rooted in something instead of always on the go. I barely had enough friends to need a full set of silverware, and these guys had a fucking backup grill.
I turned my eyes up toward the party, and right then, I saw him.
Not my brother, unfortunately, but the bear from the bar. Peyton.
My pulse skipped. He looked just as handsome and hot as he had the other night, with his solid body, bushy brow, and the dark hairs on the back of his strong arms. He was over by the grill, dressed in a pair of khakis and a navy blue T-shirt, which he wore tucked in. His beard was nice and trimmed, but still full, and he wore the familiar boxy glasses. He stood tall, smiling as he talked to another bearded guy, who tossed a football from one hand to the other.
It hit me hard. I wanted to go straight to him. A part of me was instantly ready to flirt and unravel Peyton, get him hot and bothered, and then smash our bodies together again.
But that was the goddamn problem. I was there with a mission to act respectable for my brother, and the only person I’d already met was the man I blew behind the bar last weekend.
“Alastair.”
I turned and locked eyes with Noah, who was finally appearing from inside the house. I blinked and gathered myself to greet him. “Hey,” I said warmly. “Great to see you.”
Quickly, unable to resist, I shot my eyes over to Peyton while Noah approached. Instead of chuckling with his friend, though, and looking all cute, Peyton was staring at me with wide eyes, his jaw hanging slightly slack.
Fuck. It was too much at once.
I’d barely moved to Pittsburgh, and already, I couldn’t go to a damn social event without running into a hookup. Fucking typical.
I forced myself back into the moment. Unlike last time, Noah actually came in for a half-hug, and I patted his shoulder, grateful for just that.
“Glad you could make it.”
“Yeah, of course. Thanks again for the invite.” I nodded toward Cass and Shawn, who were walking toward the garage. “Nice friends.”
He nodded quickly. “My partner at the firm had family here when we moved. It made settling in easy. Shawn there is a science writer, so we became instant friends. You know how I am,” he chuckled, then quickly added when he realized that I didn’t, “I love keeping up with science news.”
“Sure,” I agreed, thinking back to how he used to frequent the science section of the library as a kid. “How’s the firm, by the way?”
“Busy, but that’s good. I’ll actually be able to focus on design soon. That’s what I really care about. How’s your week?”
“Not bad. I’ve been organizing my files, posting old sets online…” I trailed off. A lot of working with electronic music was hyper-technical, and I wasn’t sure it made entertaining barbecue conversation. “I’ve been keeping myself busy.”
“Good,” Noah said, apparently pleased to hear it.
I adjusted my sunglasses, fighting the urge to look at Peyton. “Hey, I should mention, I usually go by Jet these days. Like my DJ name.”
“Oh.” Noah seemed to consider it, then repeated the name. “Jet. Okay.” He tilted his head to the side. “Do you mind me asking why?”
I shrugged. “It just kind of happened. It was a nickname with my friends when I first moved away, and it stuck after that.” When Noah looked like he didn’t know what to say, I added, “You can still call me Alastair, if you want. It doesn’t bother me.”
“No, Jet is fine,” Noah said, then forced a smile. “I can see it.”
I felt relieved, since honestly, I didn’t really like the name Alastair. The truth was that it had felt freeing to pick a name for myself, back when I couldn’t hear my legal name without also hearing my father yelling it at me in the back of my memory, furious about whatever way I’d failed him that day.
Noah definitely didn’t need to know I changed my name to create more distance from our parents. He’d probably see it as me abandoning him, too.
An awkward second passed. Then I lifted the cooler. “I brought sodas.”
