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“Well, I couldn’t exactly afford a new one.”
His hands settle on my shoulders for a beat, and then he twists me around and peers down at me.
“You could have asked one of us. We don’t care to do things for you, Loh. Blair just needs some of the financial burden lifted off his shoulders.”
I bite down on the inside of my cheek and nod. “This is fine. It’s a little tight, but nothing to fuss over.”
Atlas steps aside as I turn around to face the mirror. I’m not exactly a formal attire type of person. Hoodies and jeans all the way. But with Atlas being in the auction and getting all dressed up, he guilted me into following suit.
The white dress shirt fits surprisingly well given it was bought and worn before my surgery, so it has a little extra room for my growth. The slacks are actually a pair of Blair’s because no way in hell was I fitting my packer into my old ones. A salmon bow tie brings it all together, and at least that’s one thing I don’t have to worry about outgrowing.
My curls are slightly more maintained than normal, though there’s a stubborn strand that refuses to stay put and keeps tickling my forehead.
It’s hard to look at myself and see the same person from almost four years ago. Not just because of the physical changes, but the mental ones, too. High school sucked; transitioning was hard. But I was still wide-eyed and innocent.
Atty was my date to prom our senior year. Maybe that should have been a hint that my feelings ran deeper than I realized, but I was so focused on the parts of myself that were finally, finally right to care about much else.
It was a special night.
One of the last fond memories I have before getting wasted and waking up in a hospital room with no recollection of the night other than the feeling that I was irrevocably violated.
A lot has changed in just a couple of years, and sometimes when I look at myself, I have no idea who I am.
“You look good.” Atty’s smile is soft and genuine, and it’s impossible not to feel a sense of ease in its wake.
“Are you ready to make my brother seven shades of jealous?” I turn around and push him towards the bathroom door.
Atlas is dressed up in a classic black and white suit, but it’s a few years newer than mine. I can imagine Blair insisting on buying it for him, and I can almost imagine the look he’ll receive when Blair sees him.
When we step into the living room, Blair’s eyes immediately ping to Atlas, and the way they widen makes Atlas grin. Blair stands from the couch and wraps his arms around his boyfriend, whispering softly as they trade small kisses.
For the first time, I’m not jealous of their connection or their intimacy. Because I have a text on my phone of a sexy man in a silver suit of his own waiting for me.
“Am I allowed to bid on you?” Blair asks, taking a step back and giving Atlas a thorough look over.
“No,” we both say at the same time, and suddenly I’m being pulled into a three way hug filled with laughter.
Another set of feet coming down that hallway has me ducking out of hold and spotting Noah enter the room. He’s not dressed like the rest of us, wearing an oversized tee, pajama pants, and looking like he just rolled out of bed.
It’s kind of cute. And very on brand for Noah.
He looks over my shoulder and pouts out his bottom lip. “Where’s my kisses?”
Atlas steps around me to pull Noah into his side and places a quick peck on his lips. “Later. We’ve got to go. Is this how you’re going?”
Noah nods and pushes onto his tiptoes to steal another kiss. “My date involves breakfast for dinner and lots of cuddles. I figure they should see what they’re in for.”
A smile passes between the three of us, and I understand how easy it is to be drawn into Noah’s orbit.
The four of us pile into Atlas’ Jeep, and for the first time in a while life almost feels normal. The school is allowing Corvin and the others to host the auction in one of the auditoriums, and I’m mildly surprised by the turn out.
It’s full of people chatting—most in casual attire—with food and beverage tables lined along the outer walls. It was Corvin who told me to dress up, and while I’d normally tell him to go screw himself, there’s something awfully convincing about being given a command with his hand down my pants.
Before Atlas breaks off to follow Blair and Noah to a snack table, I catch his arm and hold him back.
“What’s wrong?” Atlas places a comforting hand on the back of my neck that brings out a smile.
“Nothing. I just wanted to say thank you. For doing this. For forgiving me.”
