When Trey lifted an eyebrow, encouraging him to continue, Magnus did.
“At the time, I was too self-centered to care. I mean, shit. I was twelve. I didn’t care about my kid sister’s friend. Still, that morning, when I watched my mother deliver chocolate chip pancakes, complete with a single candle poked right in the middle, to Tabby’s bedroom, I witnessed something I’d never seen before. Ava’s face lit up in a way that didn’t make sense to me at the time. One look at the candle and her little chin began to wobble, and tears started to stream from her eyes, but that smile … it never vanished.”
It’d been Ava’s birthday, and her mother had sent her somewhere else. But leave it to Magnus’s mother not to forget something so important.
Every year on her birthday, although Magnus didn’t get to see her, he would text Ava. At least since she’d started to drive, and he saw her a few times. Sometimes she would respond, sometimes not. But this year, he finally had the chance to do for her the one thing that had put a blinding smile on her face all those years ago.
“She’s never mentioned her birthday,” Trey noted.
“No. And she won’t. I’m not even sure she celebrates it anymore.”
Trey smiled. “But you’re gonna make sure she does.”
“I’d like to, yeah. Too bad I suck in the kitchen.”
Trey’s smirk turned devious. “You suck in a lotta other rooms, too. You’ll never hear me complainin’.”
Magnus nearly barked a laugh but managed to hold it in. It would ruin the surprise if he woke Ava now.
He watched Trey work at the stove, looking as at home there as he did anywhere else. It wasn’t the first time he’d noticed how domesticated Trey was. He’d done a lot of the housework while they’d been taking care of Ava when she first got out of the hospital. He pretended it was no big deal, but to Magnus, it had been everything.
“Mama used to make us muffins on our birthdays,” Trey acknowledged, flipping the first pancake with ease. “Blueberry was my favorite. It was also Tori’s and Bryn’s, so they always gave me shit that it wasn’t really for me. The girls are older, so they tried to convince us they were the favorites.”
Magnus smiled, warmth filling his insides because Trey was opening up.
“She would get up early”—he waved the spatula—“kinda like this. She’d go into the kitchen and start cookin’. As we got older, we started wakin’ up before her so we could help her.” He smiled, staring into the pan. “For whatever reason, they tasted better when we did.”
The man amazed him with his talents and his stories, so many of which Magnus hadn’t had an opportunity to hear because Trey had kept himself closed off for so long. Having him here … it made Magnus’s throat tighten, the emotion threatening to strangle him. He loved this man and had for so long he hardly recognized what was going on anymore. He’d convinced himself that he would only ever have what little parts of Trey he would unknowingly share, and he would be grateful.
“I hope you got a candle,” Trey said as he piled the last five pancakes on a plate.
“I didn’t,” Magnus said softly, praying Trey wasn’t going to ask him the reason why.
Trey looked up, his forehead was creased with concern, but then his eyes cleared. Magnus didn’t have to tell him, the man already knew.
“I know it’s fucked up,” Magnus muttered. “It just… The fire. It…”
“Terrifies you?”
Magnus met his eyes, surprised by the words. “Yes.”
“It’s not fucked up,” Trey noted, stepping in front of him. He leaned in and kissed his lips lightly. “But it does allow you to make a new tradition of your own.”
“What’re you talkin’ about?”
Trey smiled. “She’s always messin’ with those damn dandelions. Pickin’ ’em and blowin’ all the seeds off.”
Magnus chuckled as he hopped to his feet. “My dad used to tell her and Tabby that if you could blow all the seeds off in one breath, the person you love would love you back.”
He heard Trey chuckle as Magnus slipped out the back door and around to the side of the house, where there was a huge patch of them. He grabbed the fluffiest one he could find and gently carried it into the house, blocking it with his hand.
Trey was waiting, holding up the plate of pancakes.
Magnus poked the stem delicately into the pancakes, doing his best not to damage the fragile flower, or weed, or whatever the hell these things were.
“Perfect,” Trey said. “Now take ’em to her.” He leaned in and kissed Magnus again. “I’m gonna make a few more and take ’em to Billy since I know you traded shifts with him.”
Magnus swallowed around the tightness in his throat. “Thanks.”
