Chapter 23

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Lennox

We only get forty minutes of sleep. I'm not complaining. I wake with Reed snoring next to me, his nose in my neck, his leg thrown over the top of mine. It might sound weird, but I like that he snores. It's comforting to always hear him next to me, a constant reminder of his presence.

My muscles ache as I slip out from underneath him and slide my way over to the edge of the bed before settling my feet on the floor and wiggling my toes on the carpet.

I could not have conjured last night into an existence even if I tried to create it on my sketchpad. My pencil never would have believed me enough to draw the lines. But here I am, glancing back at Reed on my bed as I tug on my pair of jeans that were pooled on the floor. My pulse is still in my throat, my skin still prickling, and my ass is definitely edging on sore.

I snag my t-shirt off the floor and then pull it over my head as I step out the door. I head across the hall to take a piss.

When I get out, voices wind up the stairs. I hesitate, unease lighting across the back of my shoulders, but this is something I need to face.

I want to face it.

My friendship with Indy is too important to let something like this go undiscussed. So, I take the stairs down, breathing steadily through my nose, trying to sort out what I'm going to say.

The truth.

It always needs to be the truth.

I step into the kitchen to find Indy at the sink. She twists to look at me, her words fading, her eyes looking more plain without her winged eyeliner. Of course, she looks great, no matter.

"Good morning, Lenn." She shakes water out of a colander filled with blueberries.

"Hi," I say, pausing in the doorway.

Jamie stands on the other side of her, his ass resting against the countertop, his arms crossed over his chest. He doesn't look at me. He's staring out a window over the sink, dapple sunlight dancing through and falling on Indy's hands as she dumps the blueberries into a bowl.

"I see we're all silent this morning." She puts the colander in the dishwasher and then grabs the bowl. She cups it to her chest as she turns and leans against the counter next to my brother. "Except for me, I guess."

"No," I say, stepping in. "I want to talk to you. Both of you, but probably you first, Indy."

Jamie straightens at that. He still doesn't look at me.

Indy pops a blueberry into her mouth and chews. "Reed came to see me last night. We talked."

Jamie shakes his head. "I can't believe that you actually talk to him."

"Why wouldn't I?" She munches on another blueberry. "I'll never not talk to someone I consider a friend."

His eyes cut to her. "He's not your friend."

"That's not for you to decide." She sets the bowl on the counter next to her and turns to give him a look. He halfway smiles at her, reaching up to tug Willis off his forehead.

I'm glad that he's smiling in my general vicinity. Although it disappears as he glances over toward where I'm standing.

"I need to apologize," I say. "To both of you."

"You already did." Jamie crosses his arms over his chest, shifting his gaze to the cabinets across from him. I feel sick that he won't look at me. That there's this abyss between us.

"I haven't apologized to Indy." I take a breath and turn to her. "I'm sorry. Our friendship means a hell of a lot to me, and I should have handled things differently."

She pushes off the counter and turns to face me. "Honestly, I had some feelings when he first told me. But then he really started talking about you. The way he sees you, the way he thinks about you. He and I never had that. And I don't think it's just because he's not…" Her eyes flick toward Jamie and then back at me. "Well, you know. You're lucky, Lenn. And if somehow, the two of you manage to make something work, then I'll be nothing but happy for you. So, we're good."

I close my eyes. "That was a whole lot of grace, Indy. I'm not sure I deserve that."

The floor creaks, and I open my eyes to see Indy a few steps closer to me.

"Of course you do. I don't think either of you meant for that to happen." She leans in, her arms wrapping around me, and I hug her back as hard as I dare. "And, Lenn, let him try. You could be really good together."

Jamie scoffs, shaking his head. "Are you sure he's not going to cheat on you, too?"

Indy presses her lips as she steps back. "Jamie, it's alright. I'm alright. Reed and I never even really kissed. And there are things you don't know, too. Just… let it go."

He looks down at her as she crosses back to the blueberry bowl, thoughts churning across his face.

He glances at me, his forehead wrinkling.

And I see it—that moment I know that things are going to be okay. Maybe not this morning. Maybe not even tomorrow. But someday.

He nods at me, then goes back to watching Indy. She takes another blueberry out of her bowl and offers it to him.

He tightens his lips and shakes his head.

When's the last time I saw him eat?

I pause, thinking about that question. Last night at Randy's, he didn't eat anything. And before that…

A hard rock lodges in my chest. He's been busy with the film, and like most artists I know, he can lose time. It just somehow vanishes.

Can I ask him about when he's eaten last? Probably not without him going off on me.

Should I ask anyway?

I sweep back my hair, a low kind of panic starting to rise.

He's been fine .

For years.

One rejected blueberry doesn't mean anything.

I glance around the kitchen, looking for his oatmeal bowl. For his scale that he sometimes uses to make sure that he's getting enough. I don't see either.

I lick my lips. Shit, I'm overbearing. But he's Jamie. "Have you had breakfast?"

His arms tighten across his chest. "I'm fine, Lenn."

I exhale slowly. "Okay."

He'll say that regardless. If he's not fine. If he is. He'll try to make himself fine, over and over, until he reaches the point where he's too far under.

"I could totally have some oatmeal," Indy says suddenly.

Jamie's forehead wrinkles under Willis.

Indy holds up her bowl. "Without oatmeal, blueberries are just blueberries. And who wants that ?" She sets the bowl down, heads to the cabinet, and then pulls out the steel cuts.

Jamie watches her as she grabs milk from the fridge. "You're trying to get me to eat."

"Yeppers." She snags a saucepan off the rack. "And more than that, I'm making Lenn oatmeal, too. And we're all going to eat oatmeal with blueberries together at the table. Unless…" She turns to glance at me. "You have a boy in your bed that you'd like to get back to. Or you can invite him down. I bet he can pack away some oatmeal."

Jamie grumbles.

"I…" I glance toward the door and still.

Reed.

He's out of view of Indy and Jamie, his hand clamped on the back of his neck as he meets my gaze. He doesn't say anything, his brows rising in question. He's dressed, shoes tied, except his hat is sticking out of his pocket, his hair messy.

Prickles light along my spine, all the way up my neck to my scalp, and all the way down the back of my legs, from my ass to my heels. My breath shallows, my chest warms. I'm somehow pushed onto my toes, like my body wants to travel to him. Close the distance. Fuck me, fuck me . It's difficult to stand here.

Indy laughs, and my head snaps to her.

"He's there, isn't he?" She points a wooden spoon in the direction of the doorway. "You just about self-combusted suddenly, so I figured something had to have happened."

"Yeah," I say. "He's there."

Reed watches me from the other side of the doorway. I don't know what our plan was for this. Maybe he was trying to slip out. But I don't want to hide, and I don't want to lie.

"Do you want some oatmeal?" I ask him.

His brows rise higher, his gaze flicking in the direction of Jamie and Indy before settling back on me. "Alright."

His voice lifts the hair on the nape of my neck.

I nod for him to come into the kitchen, my pulse thickening in my throat as he does. He stops next to me, a foot away.

"I didn't know," he says quietly. "If I should just go and text you later or…"

I lick my lips. It's so hard to stand this far away from him. "I think the plan is to have some intensely awkward oatmeal first."

His lips rise. "I've never had intensely awkward oatmeal."

Jamie gives us a hard look.

Indy nudges him with her elbow and hands him the wooden spoon. He takes it and then leans over the pot and stirs.

She pushes to her toes and whispers something in his ear.

He smiles.

I've never seen Jamie smile while he's cooking.

Ever.

My panic releases a fraction.

"Can I help?" Reed steps farther in. My brother glares at him, but neither of them back away.

"Grab some spoons." I point to the silverware drawer, some sort of unreality settling over me as Reed moves across the kitchen.

Him, here. The night we had. The way that we talked, we fucked, we kissed, we snuggled.

I like you. I really like you.

I really like you too, Reed Chambers.

Maybe more than I even realize.

Reed

My dick is exhausted.

The rest of me is too.

I stumble into the locker room an hour late, having forgotten to text Colin. I haven't showered, haven't gone home to change. I'm sure I smell like sweat and cum and oatmeal. And I probably should have just gone home, showered, and been even later.

"Shit," Colin says when he sees me. He does a double take. "What happened to you?"

He flings his towel over his shoulder, then adjusts his dick in his Speedo. His hair is wet. He's obviously been in the pool for our usual pickup game, but he often swims a few laps right after.

Part of my job is to clean up the locker room between morning polo games and lap practice. More gross fucking towels.

But it's different looking around at the locker room today. I'm noticing things. Some paint scraped off by the lockers on the far side, a few cracked tiles, a dimmed light under the illuminated BU logo.

It keeps feeling smaller .

"I had a good night," I say, keeping my voice soft, which is difficult with the way sound bounces around in here. "With Lennox."

"Oh shit, that's great, man. Happy for you." He grins at me, his ice-blue eyes lighting.

"Thanks." I tug open my locker and root around for a clean t-shirt, hoping for the best. "I've been thinking more about Spain. I don't know if you'd have some time to talk about it?" I finally find a BU shirt that doesn't stink too bad and is likely clean, so I strip off mine and am about to pull it on when voices come from behind.

Colin's answer gets swallowed by shouting.

"Whoa! Fuckin' Reed."

I turn to find Archer grinning behind me, a towel wrapped around his waist, his feet in black shower shoes.

"Archer," I say, pulling on my shirt. I've been avoiding him more and more the last week. I'm just tired of the shit he says.

"You've got scratches on your back, bro." He opens a locker three down from mine, banging the metal. "Must have a story about that one."

"Nothing I want to share." I turn back to my locker, rooting around for some deodorant. I definitely should have gone home first.

Colin glances past me toward Archer and then opens the cap of his protein shake. He doesn't say anything, but his cheekbones harden. "Maybe after I finish some laps, we can?—"

"Fuck you, Reed." Archer pads down to us. "You've got to have at least one story with scratches like that."

"Nah, I'm good." I toss my deodorant back in.

"Shit, was she ugly?" He laughs. "Or fat?"

"Archer," Colin says, a note of warning in his voice.

I toss my hat in, too. "I just don't want to talk about it."

"Aw, come?—"

"No." I turn on Archer. I've got the instinct to lock myself down, to school my face, to do whatever I'm supposed to do. But I'm just so tired of that. I'm over it. I'll be who I want to be. "I don't want to talk about people like that. Especially not the guy I'm seeing. He's too damn good for that. Too damn good to have some fucked up conversation about it with you."

He blinks. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to piss you off."

"Well, then maybe you should think more about the shit you say." I slam my locker, metal banging on metal, and then head to the pool to start rolling the lap lanes out.