Page 106 of Ship Happens

“Would you be too upset if I just slept naked?” Jacob asks, standing up.

“Why start now?” Owen replies.

It strikes Owen just how funny it is, how normal it already feels to slip back into bed next to him. Jacob wraps his arms around Owen’s body, pulling him in so close that Jacob’s chest hair tickles his nose. Owen giggles when he feels Jacob press a kiss to the top of his head. Then another, then another, and another and another and another.

“Stop!” Owen protests, completely insincerely.

Jacob goes in for a final kiss, letting this one linger against Owen’s forehead. It’s going to hurt so badly when they have to let each other go again, Owen knows that. Which is why, until they get back to San Francisco, he’s not going to question a single thing they want to do. And maybe that’s selfish, but Owen wants to be selfish. Just for the next few days.

“I love you,” Jacob whispers, nose pressed into Owen’s still damp hair.

“Love you too,” Owen mumbles, leaning up to kiss him softly, the taste of wintergreen toothpaste still lingering on his tongue. “Good night, Jacob . . .”

“Good night, Owen.” Jacob reaches to turn off the bedside lamp, leaving the room in darkness, save for the streetlight just outside. Owen closes his eyes, breathing in Jacob as deeply as he can. Because he’ll never be ready to let this go.

But he knows that he can’t hang on for much longer.

Chapter Eighteen

Boom! Trans People Are Banned from Flying Because of Us

The light filtering in through the curtains is what wakes Owen up the following morning, and then the smell of frying bacon hits his nose. He rolls over, a dull ache settling in his ankles and knees.

Then he notices the absence in the bed next to him. Without thinking, he stretches his hand out for Jacob. For a moment, Owen almost wonders if it was all a dream, if he’s back in Kaitlyn and Abigail’s apartment, Jacob nowhere to be found.

He can still smell him, though.

He recognizes Dani’s guest room slowly, though the morning sun shows off the décor much better now.

There are a lot of whales. A stunning oil painting hangs framed on the wall, next to a sculpture made from driftwood. There are whales on their sheets, the comforter; the wooden frame of the mirror has been carved in the shape of a whale complete with a tail. There’s even a stuffed whale that must’ve fallen to the floor when Owen sat in the reading chair last night.

Owen lies there in bed for a moment, staring at the smooth ceiling as he listens to the rest of the house. There are no voices, no talking, just some pots and pans being rattled around, the sound of the sink running. There’s no use lying to himself, he’s listening for Jacob. For the sound of him in the shower or his laughter at a bad joke.

Some evidence that he didn’t leave again.

Stop it, Owen cuts off the thoughts before they can really get going.

With a hefty sigh, he stands, taking the time to stretch carefully, squatting a handful of times to loosen up his knees. After brushing his teeth, Owen pulls on yesterday’s T-shirt and follows the sound of sizzling down the hallway toward the kitchen.

“Good morning!” Dani beams just as she’s setting a fresh plate of toast on the circular table.

“Good morning,” Owen parrots, voice dry, tired.

The kitchen is small, which makes it all that much cozier. The cabinets are painted a gorgeous sage green, and the wooden countertops are littered with bowls, pots and pans all set out. Dani opens the door of the oven, a gorgeous piece of machinery that Owen is immediately jealous over.

“There’s orange juice in the fridge if you want some,” she tells him, flipping a few pieces of bacon with tongs.

“Thank you.” Owen grabs the carton from the refrigerator, and then he sees Jacob. A much-younger Jacob in grainy black-and-white, clipped right out of a student newspaper.

“That was on one of our early study-abroad programs at Duke. We went to work at the Misaki Marine Biological Station in Kanagawa,” Dani says, seeing where he’s looking as she comes around with a glass for Owen.

Owen remembers hearing about the trip. It was the first time Jacob had gotten to travel out of the country. When Owen asked, Jacob said he thought that program was probably the reason he spent so much of his twenties bouncing around the world.

“How’d ya sleep?” Dani asks, cracking a few more eggs into the skillet on the stove.

“Great,” Owen admits, slinking into one of the kitchen chairs. “Thank you so much, again. For everything you’ve helped with.”

“Pfft.” Dani waves him off. “Jacob used to have to walk me home from every kegger at Duke. I ruined more than one pair of his shoes.”