14. Jordan

FOURTEEN

So long asI didn't let myself care about anyone and anything outside the bubble of reality Asher and I had created, I could keep him to myself. He was, after all, the fulfillment of every dream I had ever had. Not that I had let myself believe those dreams could come true.

I remembered, when I woke up next to him one early morning, how I had been desperate to leave the house that we had shared in high school. I remembered how moving in with him and living those few years together had been the kind of torture I had never encountered again in my life. I remembered how he had visited me in my dreams and haunted my waking hours even when he was nowhere near me.

And now, you are mine, I thought, looking at his face. He was fast asleep in my left arm, sleeping on his side, facing me. His tousled curls were pointing in every direction and his eyebrows weren't frowning in a deep sulk when he was asleep.

Asher Sullivan was a beautiful guy. He inherited his mother's looks as much as I resembled my father in certain areas. The fact that our parents were married and served as stepparents in this criss-cross sort of way almost didn't bother me, so long as I kept my walls in place.

How much longer can we live behind a force field?I didn't have an answer to that. The days were passing almost too quickly for my liking. We were facing impossible obstacles everywhere I looked. There was always danger lurking outside our rooms. Yet there were dangers back at Northwood, too. No, I didn't doubt we would be accepted for our sexuality. Asher was out and it was only a matter of time before my sexuality was brought up in a conversation. The Arctic Titans celebrated their diversity. I remembered the music that blasted from the basement on the night Sebastian and Tyler came out. Well, stumbled out of the closet, they called it. I'd joined the party late, but not too late to see that my teammates were the sort of people this world desperately needed.

And yet, I had never admitted to anyone that I was into guys, too. "Why hide it?" they would ask. "Why keep it a secret when you know nobody here cares?"

"Because it's my stepbrother I want. Only him." And how would that answer work out for anyone? So I'd kept quiet. I hadn't told Beckett or anyone else, even when everyone around me seemed to be discovering new appetites.

I only have eyes for you, baby boy, I thought, caressing his cheek softly with the back of my finger.

As our days at the lakehouse passed, I discovered that our parents were too focused on themselves to notice. It was equally strange to admit it as it was liberating. Of course, they had their own lives and their own struggles. When there was nothing to suspect, they had no reason to snoop around. I kept telling myself that they wouldn't discover the truth so long as we didn't betray ourselves. If we didn't give them all the clues, they would never know to look for them.

Now, what did that say about this whole situation? That Asher and I getting together was so unlikely that it was practically unimaginable. And why? That part was simple. They still saw us as a family first. Brothers.

I shuddered.

Asher opened his big, dazzling eyes and lifted his head off the pillow. "Huh?"

"Hush," I whispered. "It's nothing."

He dropped his head on my chest and dozed off. Last night, we had met on the balcony when Eileen and Dad had gone to bed. We watched the spot where we had wrestled that first time and where Asher had gotten hard for me. Over two weeks had passed since that night and yet they felt like a blur. Like a single day and a single night. Like one endless dusk and dawn. All this sneaking around was exciting and devastating in equal parts, so Asher and I retreated to his room and lay in his bed and talked. Some nights, it felt so easy to talk to him. It felt so easy to share our individual dreams and discover that they had aligned. Or to revisit the past with a new context.

That one time Asher had stormed off from the lake after I'd playfully dunked him underwater? In defending himself, he had apparently flailed and brushed his hand against my body and the contact had turned him on so much that he couldn't stay near me. I'd always thought he was just angry that I dared to touch him.

Other times, words were totally unnecessary. We spoke with our fingers, our sighs and gasps, our lips on each other's nipples.

We ranged from slow, deep thrusts that made us feel like one being in two bodies to hard and vindictive power-fucking that threatened to break the bed. Having to press my hand over his mouth to keep him from waking our parents was an act equally horrific as it was arousing.

As the sun rose higher and poured into the room, I turned my beautiful lover onto his back and pulled my arm out from under his naked body. Even when we didn't fool around, I loved feeling all of him against me. Clothes were a barrier neither of us wanted.

I searched for my underwear under the bed, pulled them on, and stalked out of his room while he slept, but not before I pressed my lips against his brow for a long moment.

Back in my room, I gathered my clean clothes and carried them to the bathroom. I showered with cool water that cleared my mind and then descended the stairs quietly to find Dad examining the contents of the fridge.

"Hey buddy," he said in a quiet yet cheerful tone. "Up already?"

"It's nearly seven," I pointed out, my voice a deep rumble.

"It's summer," Dad said.

After pouring myself a cup of coffee, I sat on one of the stools by the kitchen island and folded my arms on the counter.

"How about pancakes?" Dad asked.

I looked at him and wondered what was wrong. He wore a short stubble, a few shades darker than how he normally let it get. Then there was the way he stood like something hurt. His back? His neck?

I pushed those thoughts aside. "Can't we have something healthy?" I asked, my voice a little lighter even though it was still groggy with sleep.

"Can't you be a kid for a while longer?" Dad asked. "For your old man?" We exchanged a look that was melancholic and playful in equal parts. "You used to love my pancakes. I remember you waking me up half an hour too early on school days to make sure we had enough time for pancakes." As though he hadn't heard my words, he was pulling up a mixing bowl and getting the ingredients he needed. He was the master of fluffiness, or so he called himself.

"I'm afraid I can't reverse time, Dad," I said softly.

He was already whisking the mixture in the bowl when he shook his head. "When did it all get so complicated?"

It wasn't a question I was supposed to have an answer to. And yet, some instinct or something I had seen but not registered when coming down the stairs, pulled my attention all the way across the kitchen and the empty floor to the sofa in the living room. Dad's pillow, blanket, and a clean bedsheet were folded and stacked on one end. I wouldn't have seen it coming downstairs. Not completely, at least.

My heart lifted at the obvious solution to all my problems and then sank to its lowest when I realized I was finding selfish relief in my father's problems. "What's going on?" How could I feel two totally opposite things without them canceling out one another?

Dad didn't look up. He fired up the stove and put a pan on it to heat up. As he rummaged through the fridge to find the butter, he lifted one shoulder into a half-shrug. "Oh, nothing to worry about," he said.

I was silent for a little while, observing him. "That bad?" I asked, judging by his silence.

He frowned like the melting butter was an important scientific experiment and he couldn't afford to break his focus. "It is what it is." He glanced at me and tried to appear nonchalant, but I recognized that deep-set pain in his eyes from when I was a child. I'd seen all this happening once before. "Things end, that's all."

"Ah, fuck," I muttered. "I'm sorry, Dad."

He sucked his teeth. "It's alright, Jordan. I don't want you getting into the middle of this, taking sides. Eileen's done a wonderful job bringing you into the family. And I hope Asher will feel the same way about his time with me."

"He will," I said musingly before catching myself. "I think."

As the pancake sizzled on the hot pan, Dad gave me a significant look. "Everybody learns this in their own skin, but I'll tell you anyway. Enjoy the good things while they're good. If they pass, it'll be easier than regretting the things you could have done better."

"Do you have regrets?" I asked openly.

Dad's eyebrows rose. "Me?" He seemed to find that laughable. "Perhaps a few, but not the way you think, Son. We had a good run. I wouldn't have changed that for anything."

There was one burning question, partly because I wanted to know what pitfalls to avoid and partly because it was where the root of all problems should be. "What happened?"

Dad lifted the spatula like he was about to lecture me. "I might be forty-six, Son, but I'm not too old to change. It never stops." He cocked one side of his mouth into a smile. "People change for as long as they live. And sometimes, we don't change in the same way."

He was stacking those pancakes in silence while I had my coffee and thought about it. For a moment, it felt like I'd figured it all out. It felt like we had nowhere else to go but up. Asher and I, together against all odds. It felt like the end of the story. But as I looked at my dad, it sank in that nothing in life was guaranteed.

I will cherish it while I have it, I promised myself. And I'll have it for as long as I cherish it.

"Don't get all gloomy on me, Jordan," Dad warned me. "I'll regret telling you."

I snorted. "Yes, because lying would have solved things." Hypocrite, I snapped at myself. All these days of hiding had felt like leading a double life. I was a liar and now I felt like it.

"I don't want you feeling down, Son. We all make our own choices, right? My and Eileen's were good for a long time and then they weren't. It's not foreshadowing your future." He looked into my eyes like he could read my mind. And he was close. Worry rose in me that the same fate awaited everyone, especially us. If Eileen and Dad couldn't work it out, were Asher and I doomed? Were we destined to repeat our parents' mistakes?

Again, that silence. I was drowning in it, but I didn't dare talk about anything. My mind was swirling around Asher. He was upstairs, asleep, naked, wonderful. He had waited for me for too long to let something break us apart. That gave me confidence.

And yet, my careful nature was beginning to kick in again. I was contemplating all the possibilities, incapable of turning off my brain now. It had been good while it had lasted, all that time of not thinking.

"Tell me," Dad said cheerfully. "Is there a girl you're hiding from us?"

"A guy," I muttered, snapping my jaw shut.

Fear flooded my chest as I looked up, meeting my Dad's slightly surprised look.

"My bad for assuming," Dad said with a smile. "Have you been keeping that for a long time?" There was some concern in his voice, but he handled it as lightly as Asher's coming out.

I shrugged. "I figured you should know since we're sharing stories and all."

Dad focused on me, letting the pancake worry about itself. "You know it makes no difference, Jordan." He licked his lips and put a hand over my hand. "I hope you weren't keeping it a secret out of fear that I would…I don't know, say something wrong."

I shook my head. "It's mostly been girls in the past," I admitted. "I never felt like talking about it." Because it was inseparable from the person I was in love with all these years. In love with. My heart jolted. "I knew you'd accept it like this."

He winked. "There's nothing to accept or refuse, Jordan."

Dad was sort of the pioneer of the world in which I wanted to live. There wasn't any need to come out or make a big announcement in his view. It was as simple as discussing your favorite flavor of ice cream.

We fell silent when Asher's footsteps on the stairs announced his arrival. He wore a sleeveless T-shirt with a low neckline that revealed the upper part of his chest and the beautiful valley between his pecs where, just a few hours ago, I'd had my tongue and lips. His shorts were faded denim, the bottom edge rolled twice, revealing his smooth thighs halfway through. The only way he could have been sexier was if he'd come down wearing nothing but some whipped cream on his nipples. I'm hungry, I decided and imagined him resolutely without any whipped cream anywhere. That was even better.

Dad might have assumed he was the first to hear about my sexuality. For all his talk of nobody needing to care, he held his tongue. I was glad. I didn't want Asher to have to act surprised or, worse, say he'd known for weeks.

"Morning," Dad greeted him.

"Are those pancakes?" Asher asked. Suddenly, I wasn't interesting to him at all. Nobody could compete with Dad's pancakes.

Eileen still hadn't shown up by the time we finished our mini breakfast. Asher and I retreated to our rooms and then met on the balcony to discuss the day's plans. Our plans were wildly predictable by now. We would go to the lake and enjoy the peace and privacy it gave us. And so we packed a basket with snacks and drinks and left the house behind.

We were lying on the pier, drying from a long swim, when I turned on my side and looked at him. Drops of water sparkled on his tanning skin. "I have to tell you something," I began. "But you can't freak out."

"Tell me, or I'll freak out," Asher replied with urgency, turning on his side to face me, too. He lifted his dark sunglasses from his eyes. They looked great on him, but his eyes were infinitely prettier.

"Dad and Eileen are splitting up," I said without ceremony.

Exactly the way I had reacted that morning, I watched Asher's face brighten, and then his mood dampen. Two opposite feelings, yet equally true. "What? Why?"

"I don't know," I said, assuming he wanted me to elaborate. "I mean, they haven't been great to be around lately. You noticed that, right?"

Asher bit his lip guiltily. "I, uh, was a bit preoccupied. I wasn't paying attention."

I snorted, but it felt good that he was focused on me so much so that an entire marriage in the house could fall apart and he wouldn't notice. Fuck, I made myself seem like a villain.

"Don't be so quiet," Asher said. "Tell me what you know."

"Since the night they arrived, there were cold looks between them, tired sighs. You know how it goes. Well, this morning, I discovered that Dad has been sleeping in the living room. He said a lot about people changing, but nothing specific."

Asher narrowed his eyes in thought. After a short silence, he looked into my eyes with determination. "That's not gonna happen to us, right?"

I shook my head. "I won't let it."

He pressed his hand on my chest and felt my heartbeat. I had my hand on his waist, enjoying the softness of his skin. After a long while, Asher pressed his lips together. "I hate this for them."

I wasn't sure what to say. If they'd stopped making each other happy, it was better to leave the marriage. What was the alternative? They would only grow resentful of the time they had wasted in misery.

"But for us," Asher said and let the words trail off.

"I feel the same way," I said.

Did it change anything, though? We hadn't grown up together. We hadn't truly been a family to one another before this relationship. Did the divorce change anything that their marriage had changed first?

"I came out to Dad," I said quietly. "Don't ask me why. I don't know."

Asher leaned in and pressed a kiss to my lips. He didn't ask questions. Instead, he just whispered, "Good. I'm proud of you."

I didn't know I needed to hear those words until he said them. But then, as he kissed me again, I rolled on top of him and kissed him harder. This was a kiss that carried all the promises that we wouldn't drift apart and change the way our parents had. We could break the curse. We could be the ones who stood by each other and never let outside influences pull us apart. If we'd managed to find a way to be together in the hardest circumstances, we could find a way to stay together after this.