7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

WYATT

The morning starts off slow as I open up the bakery, flipping on the lights as I go and then strolling into the back to grab a fresh pair of clothes. Despite having an apartment on the other side of the city, I spend the occasional night in the back to rise early for all the delicacies that take more than just a gentle touch. The pale blue walls and marble floors bring a soft ambiance that contrasts my aura. It’s become something of a commodity to visit the ex-military baker.

It helps that I still remember how to smile, even more so that I now have a boyfriend after pining after him for years. His silly grin plastered on his face as I left this morning is etched into my brain, nearly distracting me from removing the freshly baked bagels from the wood oven. A hiss slips through my lips as I grab them with my hands and quickly drop them on the counter, vigorously shaking my fingers to ward off the heat.

“Well, that’s one way to grab them. Maybe try the metal utensils you bought for that shit?” Laughter follows the question as I turn to face the entrance, Axel strolling in like he has nothing better to do than bother me. He plops onto a stool on the other side of the counter, leaning forward to grab the bagel I just pulled from the oven. “Cinnamon cherry? You must have known I was coming.” Axel takes a large bite before unearthing a five-dollar bill and slapping it on the table.

For someone who just made fun of me for pulling the bagels out of the oven barehanded, Axel doesn’t seem phased by the heat in the slightest.

I enjoy the moments he breaks off of his morning to spend with me, especially with such a fractured family. “You on your way in?”

Axel nods as he takes another large bite. He works in the heart of the city as a graphic designer, adding touches to the interior of homes and condos to the exact specifications of his clients. He loves every bit of it, bringing their dream spaces to life and the smile that is permanently on his face, especially after meeting his girlfriend makes me envious of his happiness.

My phone vibrates on the counter and I grab it before groaning at the ridiculously sweet text that pops up.

Jay 3

I can kiss you in public now.

There’s an awful amount of emojis after the text causing me to smile. Axel taps the table, silently requiring me to explain why I’m staring down at my phone like an idiot. “Reggie’s birthday party was last night.”

Axel grunts at the admission, stuffing more into his mouth until he looks like a little chipmunk. I procure a glass of water for him knowing that he’ll start choking in the next second. He always avoids a conversation with food—whether it’s to eat it, to choke on it, or to go make it. His girlfriend is the same fucking way but she’s a little more subtle with it.

I also didn’t mean to start the conversation with that. “I only went to make the dessert but it got late and I stayed over with Jay.” Axel’s eyes grow wide as he leans forward, pounding his chest as he starts choking. He drains the cup of water, waiting for me to continue. “We told Reggie this morning. Well, I kind of just marched into the kitchen and told Jay to date me.” A nervous chuckle falls from my lips because I had no idea how Jameson would take that.

Would he reject me? Would he have told me that we needed to talk?

“And I can assume by that stupid smile on your face that you kissed the shit out of him after he said yes. Excellent. I finally have an older brother I don’t fucking hate.” Axel pumps his fist into the air as he taps the counter again. “Are we celebrating? When’s dinner?”

“Didn’t really get that far. I think we’ll figure something out. This is… new.”

“Fuck no, it isn’t. Jameson has been coming over to the house since you all were in high school. It’s too bad that I don’t still attend those dinners with Grams and Gramps but I swear, they already know you two are endgame.” He slides out his phone and starts punching in a number before laying it on the counter. I’m not expecting to hear my new official boyfriend on the other line.

“Hello, Axel. I’m assuming you’re sitting in front of my boyfriend right now about to give him shit for finally making a splash.”

“Well, yes. Actually. I also came to steal a bagel. When’s dinner? When are we celebrating? This calls for a celebration. Please tell me that you’re at least taking my brother out on a date.” Axel speaks a thousand words a minute, barely giving Jameson a moment to speak. When there’s finally a bit of silence, I hear Jameson’s laughter through the phone.

“There will be a lot of celebrations. However, we need to take this at our own pace. Whatever is comfortable for Wyatt works with me.”

My face warms at how absolutely selfless Jameson always is. It’s always what works for me. He works around my schedule, my needs, my desires, and my trauma. He never pushes or demands answers and seems perfectly content with what I’m able to give. I’m beginning to wonder if there’s something he needs that I’m not measuring up to.

Axel throws out an exaggerated sigh. “God, you guys are too fucking cute. Gag, really. I’ll see you in a few days.” Then my brother hangs up and hops off the stool. “Take it easy, Wyatt but god, I’m so happy for you. You deserve all of this and more. Also, you’re a fucking saint for going to Reggie’s party. I applaud you.”

“Do you ever think you’ll talk to him again, Axel?” I’m on the verge of cutting Reggie out of my life too but that’s not a conversation I want to have with my younger brother right now.

“I’ve thought about it but no, I don’t think so. Not unless I’m required to. He’s messaged a few times but his apologies are always a front for something else. He asked me for money a few weeks ago and then decided it was appropriate to demand my interior design services to fix up Mom’s house. No apology for how he acts with me. No apology for all the hateful words. Until I see some genuine change, I don’t think it’s going to work.”

Axel waves goodbye and slips out the front without another word. I can’t blame him, though. We’ve all tried so fucking hard to cater to Reggie within our boundaries and he just bulldozes right through them. It makes me wonder how many of Jameson’s boundaries he’s destroyed and how much of a fucking saint my boyfriend has to be to have stuck around for so long.

I dial Jameson, feeling the need to actually celebrate. After all, we’ve been working toward boyfriend status for a long time.

“Yes, babe? What’s up? Ah, the dinner thing. Are you ready for something like that?”

To anyone else, Jameson sounds heartless. To me, it’s the sweetest thing out of his mouth because he knows how much I hate spending time in public spaces where I can’t control the outcome. We’ve ordered out and sat in parks or walked along beaches but never spent time in a restaurant. It isn’t my scene and as much as Jameson tries to play the suave accountant, he prefers a burger over escargot.

“I think so. Can we try?”

“Absolutely. I’ll find somewhere with a private booth but clean off your kitchen table just in case. Oh and package up that new green tea cake you made a few days ago. I can’t stop dreaming about it.”

How has it taken me this long to publicly claim him?