Two

Cade

"Y ou want to go on a diet?" This would be news to me. For as long as I can remember, Liam has hated dieting. He hates having to regulate his food intake, having to say no to foods he actually wants to eat, and choke down shit he'd never look at again if it were up to him. So, us being at the gym to talk to the dietician-slash-nutritionist is… well, it's a mystery.

"No," he says gruffly, glaring at the glass door that the dude we're supposed to be meeting can definitely see us through. "Bash thinks it's a good idea."

" What the fuck? Your boyfriend wants you to go on a diet, and no part of you thought––"

"No! Not at all. Bash is––he thinks I have an unhealthy relationship with food." His cheeks flame, something I've seen a lot over the years but definitely more often now that he can't help but talk about his precious Bash every chance he gets.

A forced grin tugs at my lips as he palms the back of his neck, another nervous tick that I'm very familiar with. The things he's saying aren't exactly big shockers. He definitely does have issues related to food, but nothing I've ever seen has warranted him meeting with an expert . But I also didn't think I'd ever seen anything that hinted at him liking dick, so what do I know?

"He suggested I see this… person." He shrugs, clearly uncomfortable with the whole thing. "Bash is not an asshole. He's actually really sweet."

The little smile on his reddened face makes me want to roll my eyes, but I don't do that. But sure. I'm sure the guy who broke my nose is a real sweet guy.

"Okay. Well, are we going in?"

"I—–no. No." He shakes his head, but I'm pretty sure that's the whole reason I'm even here. "Sorry. It's just me going in."

"Liam, then why did I even come?" I swear to god, if he couldn't come up with a better excuse to see me than this, I'll––

"I'm just nervous, okay?" He turns toward me and the look on his face has me shutting my mental mouth. "Can you just hang out? I won't be long."

I want to be shitty and ask him why his super sweet boyfriend couldn't come with him––especially since he's the one who set this thing up––but he does look nervous. And really, even if he is throwing me a bone, don't I want to take it? The alternative is just blowing him off, and that means shoving a bigger wedge between us.

And maybe there are things I don't know. Maybe he really needs this.

"I'll just go for a jog, I guess." I nod towards the rest of the gym.

"Thank you." He says it so seriously that I kind of feel like an asshole for having an attitude about it. Liam pulls this feeling from me quite a bit, actually. Guilt.

He doesn't even do it on purpose. He's just so… gentle. He's this six-foot-one used-to-be baseball player who makes people want to protect him and shit. There are other reasons—more taxing and misery-inducing reasons—that I feel guilty even just looking at him sometimes, but I'm not going to let myself dwell on all of that right now.

"Sure. I'll be here when you're done." I almost want to ask if Sebastian is working––meaning is he here, and am I going to have to look at him or possibly inadvertently piss him off just by existing in his proximity––but I keep it in.

As soon as he walks through the glass door in front of us, I walk around the corner and beeline to the treadmills. I want to run—sprint and work off some of the itchiness plaguing my very being—but I'm not really dressed for that. And I don't feel like doing any warmups or stretches, so I just walk.

I can't stop myself from looking for Liam's boyfriend, and my eyes find him pretty much instantly. Sebastian is hard to miss—tall with a million tattoos. He looks like he's always mad at someone. He's in the room he's almost always in, doing his trainer thing and looking annoyingly hot while doing it.

I thought about going for it at one point, asking him out. Got brave enough to ask him what his name was and then walked away when he told me with a glare. But really, I chickened out because of Liam. I'm not really in the closet. Well, I'm definitely not now that Liam knows, but before this whole mess I was kind of somewhere in the middle. I went to clubs, usually Class, and had quick hookups with guys whose names I don't remember—rarely even learned—every so often, but when it came to my best friend, I made sure he didn't know.

I was careful. Sneaky even. I was scared, honestly. I really thought there was a big chance that he'd be disgusted with me if he knew. Liam has just always had that kinda-sorta homophobic feel about him. And even if he hadn't been grossed out by me, I thought it'd clue him in on all the more-than-platonic feelings I had for him, and I could not handle that. The only reason I'm doing it now is because I have no choice.

I wonder how different shit would have been if I'd actually gone for it with Sebastian. Or better yet, gone for it with Liam years ago.

I have to force myself to look away, tired of bumming myself out. I get into the groove of mindlessly walking, zoning out as I take comfort in the atmosphere of the gym I've been coming to for the past couple of years.

I don't know how much time has passed before my phone vibrates in my back pocket. It's a text from an unsaved number, but the message tells me pretty point-blank who it is.

where tf is apartment 13???

When I don't answer him in the point-two seconds he wants, I get another one. And then another.

And now he's calling.

"The odd numbers are all on the right side," I say immediately, making sure to speak before he can start his bitching. "Number thirteen is in the second set of apartments, on the bottom floor. The thirteen is pink and pretty big, so––Nic?"

He hung up on me.

" Dick ," I mutter to myself. I've been pretty lucky not having to directly communicate with him—my mom or his dad usually being the ones I talk to, but I guess all that's over now. Because he's here. I really fucking hope he's not an asshole to Baby or Logan.

I shoot a text to Baby to warn him that our newest roommate is there and then fight the urge to apologize. I haven't really explained the Nic lore to him. Maybe he's not a massive prick these days. I mean, I doubt it, but it's possible.

I haven't seen him in years. When I go visit on holidays or whatever, he's just been… gone. Somewhere else. My mom will give me updates here and there, but mostly, Nic is hardly even an afterthought. He's just someone I vaguely know, someone who thinks I ruined his life.

I had no clue why Nic's leg was bleeding. I had a feeling it was something bad when he reacted the way he did, but how was I supposed to know that telling on him would lead to him being forcibly removed from his mom's? Nobody saw that coming.

I still don't know the full story. If anyone had bothered actually looking at him—seeing him and the muted look on his face, the sweat on his hairline, chapped lips, and dark eyes—they'd have known something was wrong. I only know that Nic was hurting himself, and Carrie, his mom, was not fully present . Asking either my mom or Anton for details felt too taboo, especially with the way they tiptoed around the topic. And asking Nic, the guy whose hate for me went from one hundred to one thousand after that whole thing, was not an option.

And he dipped two years after that. Up and left the place he refused to ever call home. The only info I ever heard about him came from our parents.

I don't hate him, despite what he thinks. I don't even really know enough about him to hate him. I just have enough shit going on, and I really don't want him and his drama piling onto the mess.

Liam comes out after what feels like a small forever but is actually twenty-something minutes and tells me he wants to talk to his boyfriend before we go. I can't tell if he's just trying to act like I didn't put my lips on his ten days ago or if he truly doesn't care, but either way, it's driving me crazy. It feels too weird to witness whatever goes on between those two so I make my way out of the gym and wait for him by my car.

"You ready?" I ask about five minutes later as he walks around up to the passenger side to get in it.

"Yeah. Let's stop for some food."

"Okay," I agree, not bothering to ask him where to go as I climb in and start the car. He's one of those people who like to drive me insane by having zero clue where they want to eat, even if they're the ones who suggested we do so. If he knew what he wanted, he'd have just named the place. "How was the meeting?"

"It was okay. He used to be a food therapist––which apparently is a legit thing. We really just talked about my eating habits and how they make me feel, so nothing crazy."

Thinking about this a little more in-depth, it's not all that surprising. I found a stash of junk food in his closet when we were teens once, and when I mentioned it, his face had gone pale. I just never brought it up again. Maybe I should have, but from where I stood, he was a healthy jock who just didn't get to eat sweets very often.

"Maybe you should see a professional? Someone who is currently a food therapist."

"Nah," he shakes his head, clearly feeling certain about this. "I'm not… I just have all this freedom now, y'know? I just have to get used to it not needing to be a secret when I eat a fucking piece of cake or something. And this guy is cool. And cheap, so I can meet with him a few more times. He works on diet plans with people trying to lose weight and gain weight, but he also just listens. He said as long as I'm honest with him, he'll do his best to recognize habits, and if he spots any unhealthy ones, he'll advise me on… I don't know exactly. It won't get that far."

The way he talks about it makes it seem like it's maybe a bigger deal than he's willing to admit. I open my mouth to ask if he's sure he's got this, but he speaks first.

"What do you have going on for the rest of the day?"

I cock my head at him, unsure how I want to answer. I can feel him asking to hang out, but I'm not all that certain I want to—that I can even deal with that right now. Maybe it's messed up to not want to be around him immediately after he sort of admitted to having an eating disorder, but things are messed up between us right now.

"Not much, but I should probably get home. Nic just got here, and I don't want him to––"

"Nic—like, your stepbrother? That Nic?"

"Oh. I never told you." I let out a rueful laugh as I run a heavy hand down my face. I haven't had the chance to tell him more like. I've only known about this for three days, and we haven't talked that much since he moved out. "He's your replacement."

"What do you mean?"

"He's moving in." When all he does is gape at me, I shrug. "My mom asked."

"And you said yes?"

"She asked nicely." I breathe another short laugh out through my nose with a shrug at the look on his face. Nic and Liam don't really get along either—or they didn't. I don't think Nic gets along with anyone.

"I'm… sorry."

"It's not your fault, Liam. And it's not that big of a deal." It really isn't. Between work and school, I don't even spend that much time in my room. It's been years since I've lived with Nic, but from what I can remember, he spends most of his time brooding in bed, listening to shitty music. As long as I stay out of his way he pretty much ignores me.

It'll probably be harder to do now that we share a bedroom. I only have the past to go by, but I need to get it in my head that we're not sixteen years old anymore. I knew Nic then ––and only kind of. I definitely don't know who he is today.

"Well, still. You're going to be living with an asshole. That sucks."

"You would know," I say, nodding my head and smiling as I let myself tease him about this.

He rolls his eyes, blushing a little which in turn triggers a roll of mine. He's so smitten. It almost gives me secondhand embarrassment. Dude is a total simp for a guy who has the emotional range of a rock.

It also––a tiny bit––hurts my feelings. I've been around for years. Most of our lives. Why wasn't I his bi-awakening? What's so wrong with me?

But I'm ignoring those thoughts. Trying to anyway.

∞∞∞

"W here is he?"

"You mean your fine as fuck stepbrother? Cade." Baby leans forward, palms on his knees. "You should have warned me."

"What do you––gross. Baby, no," I scold. "He's… bad."

"He's something alright." He laughs as he leans back in his spot on the couch. His face sobers quickly, all traces of humor gone as he deadpans, "I can fix him."

I can't tell if he's serious. Either way, I'm annoyed. What the fuck is it with assholes getting all the attention? Liam and Sebastian, and apparently Baby and Nic. Especially when Baby thinks it's funny to constantly make jokes about me being the ugliest dude in the apartment. "That's not a thing. This––you and Nic ––that's not happening."

"Well, yeah, that's probably true. I don't actually have a bad boy kink. I usually avoid them." He shrugs. "But Nicolas doesn't seem that bad. Kind of shy, maybe. Moody. But, I mean, he's out of my league anyway."

"What? That is not true. You're––"

"Stop. I'm a solid ten outta ten, I know this. But that dude in your bedroom is––" He fans his face, being all kinds of annoying about it. "How into dudes are you exactly? Because no marriage would have kept me from––"

"I'm done talking to you." I walk away, shaking my head at the fuckery that was.

"I'm just sayin'. Stepbrother porn is popular for a reason!"

I roll my eyes just as I reach my door, not thinking things through as I open it. My body lags as I remember Nic is supposed to be in here, but he's not. Both beds are empty, though what used to be Liam's is no longer bare.

I twitch when the bathroom door opens.

"Nic?" I don't know why I bother asking, but fuck. "You got…" Bigger is what I almost say, but I manage not to embarrass myself. He was eighteen the last time I saw him and both shorter and skinnier than me. A gauntly looking emo kid with patchy skin and hair.

But, fuck . Not anymore. He looks just as tall as me and definitely packing the kind of muscle mass I wouldn't have ever assumed was capable for him.

"Get out."

" What? It's my room."

He has a gift. Never has a single person pissed me off so instantaneously like that. And with so little effort, too.

"It's also mine now, and I need to get dressed. So, fuck off."

I almost flinch. I––yeah. He's naked. He's naked and wet and has nothing but a big towel wrapped around his waist to keep shit from getting hella awkward.

Well, no. That's not true. It kind of does feel awkward. I haven't seen him in years, but I've never just had a front-row seat to the guy's nipples like this. His skin-thing is more prominent than I'd have guessed now that I can see his chest. He even has one spot, under his collar bone on his pec, that looks like a small jagged heart. Probably a good representation of what his actual heart looks like. I should maybe look away, but also… "No. It's my room. You can get dressed in the bathroom."

He scoffs as he steps in front of me. "Just get out, Cade."

I stare for a moment, the utter audacity of this guy leaving me at a loss for words. I don't remember his eyebrow being split like that, about a third of it white, like his hair.

"Stop fucking drooling and get out."

This time, I scoff, my face heating at the accusation he's throwing out there with his deep voice. I don't know how to respond to that. I open my mouth to speak, make myself deny it or something, but he's suddenly shoving me, and the door is shut in my face not even a full second later.

I try to open it back up, but my hand isn't quick enough. He flips the lock, and I'm left to stand there with my mouth agape. Stunned.

What the fuck?

There's just too much about this situation that's irritating the absolute hell out of me. Nic is somehow exactly nothing and everything I expected. An asshole? Definitely. A scrawny-looking kid with his white-streaked hair overgrown and covering his eyes? Not exactly. Not anymore.

I get what Baby was going on about just minutes prior. I get it. I can't deny how good he looks, and who the fuck saw that coming? Not me. He's just all grown up and shit, and it's confusing me. The fucker might actually be a little bigger than me. I'm not even a small guy, but he only needed one hand, one solid shove to move me out of the room.

And it's my fucking room!