Nigel’s smile took on a mischievous glint. “You could say that.”
“I’m happy for you. Both of you.”
Nigel raised an eyebrow and leaned back in the booth. He folded his arms over his chest. “I should be super fucking mad at you right now.”
“You have every right to be mad.”
“But I’m not.” Nigel exhaled. “Not really. Yeah, I’m peeved that you didn’t tell me you dated Trevor, even briefly.”
“I thought you were happy.” It was a shit excuse, but it was all I had. “It’s been just you and me for so long, that I didn’t want to risk driving a wedge between us. I never had any feelings for Trevor, so I didn’t think it was important for you to know.”
Nigel let out a sigh and raked his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I know. If I thought you did it for nefarious purposes, I’d be a lot angrier. But why did you lie about having a boyfriend?”
“Because my younger brother was getting married and I wasn’t. It was a dumb flash of sibling rivalry. Besides, I didn’t want him to think that I’d been just laying around pining for him.”
Nigel looked at me for a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity. Ethan came and went with a pot of coffee, promising to be back to take our orders soon. It wasn’t until he was gone that Nigel finally spoke.
“You’re such a dumbass.” Nigel laughed and shook his head. He added two spoons of sugar and a cup of creamer to his coffee before stirring it and taking his first sip.
“I’m aware of this. Have you heard from him at all?”
Nigel shook his head. “Just once when he came to get his things. It was pretty ugly, but Simon was there to have my back, so it was fine.” Nigel shook his shoulders like he was casting off the memory. “So tell me about the guy you brought to the wedding. How’d you meet?”
I was thankful to be past the part of the conversation where we rehashed everything that happened on Nigel’s almost-wedding day.
“He’s friends with Blue. Blue suggested that he’d be a good fake boyfriend.”
“Blue was kind of wrong, though, because he’s not exactly a fake anything now, is he?” Nigel hid his smile behind his coffee cup.
“I’m pretty enamored with him.”
Nigel’s expression softened. “I hope the feeling is mutual.”
“It is,” I answered without hesitation, thinking of how I’d almost been late leaving this morning because Perry had stayed over and I hadn’t wanted to pry myself out of bed.
“I tip my hat to you, big brother. I could never share Simon the way you share Perry.” Nigel lowered his voice to just above a whisper.
“I don’t see it as sharing him, to be honest. It’s his job. Sure, yes, his job is to have sex with other people, but Perry and I… it’s more than that.” I was not about to explain to my brother that I found it so fucking hot to know that Perry could have, and in a lot of ways did have, whoever he wanted, and that at the end of the day, I was the person he wanted. Not Ricky or Billy or whatever their names were. Their names weren’t important because they weren’t important. He was mine, and I was his, and no one else mattered.
“So what’s next with you and Simon?” I asked, desperate to take the focus off of me.
“Believe it or not, we’re taking it slow.” Nigel’s cheeks turned red, and he looked down at his coffee as though it held all the answers. “We got so much wrong that we want to get this right. But I’ll admit that it’s killing me to take it slow.” He lifted his gaze and I saw the anguish there. “I feel like we wasted so much time already.”
“It’s never a waste of time to wait for the right person.”
His frown deepened. Clearly, he wasn’t thrilled with my attempt at an inspirational quote.
I reached for my coffee, which was somehow almost empty now. “Or you could learn from your past and stop keeping things from him. Isn’t that what got you into this situation to begin with?” I raised an eyebrow.
Nigel blinked at me. Once. Then again.
“You’re right.” He perked up in one moment, then deflated in the next. “But how do I say, ‘hey, you know how we agreed to go slow? Well, I don’t want to?’”
“You say it exactly like that. Tell him how you feel, Nigh. How youreallyfeel.”
He nodded once, then changed the subject again. I think he needed time to think about his next move because through the rest of breakfast, he was a lot quieter.
“We need to do this more often, you and I.” Our plates were empty and we stacked them neatly at the edge of the table. I found that I wasn’t ready to let him leave just yet, not without a promise that we’d see each other again soon. I didn’t want him to become a ghost in my life again. Someone who lived so separately from me that he’d gotten close to marrying someone before I even met them.
