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He perks up, the previous moment forgotten. “Okay!”
“Okay,” I agree, already getting to my feet and grabbing the shovel to collapse the fire in on itself. I jolt when I feel an arm wrap around my middle, the shovel jostling a little too hard until sparks fly out of the opening. Nolan doesn’t seem to notice. He brings up his other arm and finishes encircling me, careful for my right side. All I do is stand there and say, “Uh,” like a fucking idiot.
“You got that sad look on your face,” he mumbles, lips moving against my shoulder blade. And damn, this shouldn’t feel so good, but it really fucking does. “I hate when you leave upset. You always go to the gym instead of bed.”
I drop the shovel, not caring when it spreads ash all over the floor, and turn in his arms. My hands find his waist easily before gliding along his back until I have a firm hold on him. He fits perfectly, like we’re two broken pieces fusing together with a little bit of gold and magic.
“No gym tonight,” I manage to say after a hard swallow. “Promise.”
He makes a soft, content sound and squeezes my left side extra hard for a second. Then he drops his arms and steps back. Let him go, let him go, let him go. My arms comply, but I hate it. I feel cold and wrong and itchy without him. Maybe we could go to sleep together again, like Jake always did with Casey living here. He swore that was platonic. And I know Matt and Nolan sleep together too. Why can’t we do that? Just hold each other and sleep?
My brain helpfully answers with, Because you would kiss him, you idiot. You would ruin everything.
Oh. Right. That.
“Night, Maison,” he murmurs, completely oblivious to my internal mess.
“Good night.”
The smoke alarm won’t stop, despite the two of us frantically waving the dish towels at it. “Can’t we just unplug it?” I shout over the noise.
Ace gives me a withering glare. “I didn’t install a system that can be unplugged. It’s the 21st century, Maison!”
“Make it stop!” Bryce shouts over the incessant alarm, one arm wrapped around Matt as Matt stares wide-eyed at the scene.
“We’re trying!” I shout back.
Jake—laughing his ass off like the dickhead he is—hurries across the living room to the sliding glass door. He opens it and starts waving his arms through the air like he can coax the smoke to take the new exit route. The smoke isn’t interested in his directions.
“For fuck’s sake, Ace. Can’t you disable it with a fucking computer?”
“Oh yeah. Shit, I—” the alarm stops before he has the chance. Thank fuck.
The whole group releases a collective sigh.
“Finally,” Bryce says in exasperation.
“It’s freezing,” Jake adds, already shutting the door again.
“Oh no,” Nolan says from behind me. I turn to find him standing shoulder to shoulder with Ace, both of them looking down at the roasting pan that’s now covered in foam. “That’s… not fixable.”
Travis hums, placing his now-empty fire extinguisher on the counter. He gives Nolan a wide berth as he takes in the mess. “I’d say not.”
“I don’t know what happened,” I mumble, feeling terrible that after almost an hour of hard work preparing the meal—and a very intense garlic mincing lesson—I ended up ruining things. I was only given one task without supervision—put the meal in the oven while he took a shower to fix the fact that I splashed him with broth by accident. Yet, I fucked it up. He was so proud of me too, all freshly showered in clothes that fit him a little too well now that he’s gaining his weight back, asking if I want to go for a walk while the food cooks. We came back inside when the alarms had started, entering the kitchen just in time to see Travis spraying the food down with extinguishing foam.
“It was two hundred for five hours, not five hundred for two hours!” Nolan scolds.
Suffice to say, our first day spending significant time together outside of our nightly fire talks is not going well.
Someone laughs.
It’s just a sharp burst at first. Almost surprised. Then a pause. A breath. Then another laugh, this time bubbling in intensity, rolling from one to the next in what can only be described as a full-on laughing fit. All eyes turn to the source.
Matt is doubled over, one hand on his stomach, as the sound pours out of him. Bryce’s smile slowly grows until he’s joining in, head tossed back with a hardy laugh. Jake is next. Then Ace. Then Travis.
I exchange a look with Nolan. His lips are pursed like he’s fighting a laugh of his own.
“Sorry?” I try, unable to stop the grin tugging at my lips. It’s my standard aw shucks, sorry ma’am grin that’s gotten me out of trouble a thousand times.
