“No one has ever made me feel like you do,” he says quietly, tracing the lines of my stomach with his fingers. “Like they actually care. Not since my parents died. And we’ve only known each other for a few months, and I know what this is,” he pauses, taking a deep breath.
“But sometimes when we’re like this, and you’re being—” He gestures toward me. “I feel like you care about me, like, genuinely care,” he finishes. “And I forgot what that felt like.”
The room is very quiet.
I think about a younger version of Mike losing his parents and having no one. And this version too, thinking no one cares about him, even though he has so many friends and people who love his band and—
Me.
“I know how you feel.”
He lifts his head to look at me, making no effort to hide his teary eyes this time.
“My mom died,” I say. “When I was born.” I keep my eyes on the ceiling because it’s easier to talk about that way. “My dad blamed me for it. Still does.”
Mike’s hand finds mine. “It’s not your fault.”
I shrug, because I’m not sure I believe that. “Nate raised me. He gave up his whole life for me. Sports, relationships, all of it, for a long time. But he’s happy now. Iris is the best thing that ever happened to him, and I love her. I do.”
My voice cracks, but I keep going. “But they’re building a life together, and I’m—”
I’m the kid brother. The baggage. The one everybody has to worry about.
“I’m not part of that.”
Mike squeezes my hand.
“The only place I don’t feel like that,” I say, quiet enough that he might not be able to hear me, but I know he does. “Is here with you.”
He pushes himself up on one elbow and looks down at me, his hair falling forward, his eyes more serious than I’ve ever seen them. “You’re never on the outside with me.”
I pull him down and kiss him, needing to be close, and he comes easily, kissing me back in a way that I can’t lie to myself and call casual.
Mike falls asleep with his head on my chest and his hand over my heart. I stay awake a little longer, listening to him breathe, letting myself feel the full extent of my feelings, just for a little while.
Chapter 16
I’m starting to think we might be dating.
Boyfriends.
I haven’t said that out loud. I haven’t asked him what we are. The last time I got ahead of myself ended with me in the hospital and years of trauma that I’m doing a decent job of ignoring right now. I’ve learned my lesson about disturbing the peace with unnecessary labels.
I shouldn’t want this. I know better. But I can’t help it.
I do.
It’s been a few weeks since Thanksgiving, and sometime between then and now, things have shifted. Or become impossible to ignore.
Mike sleeps in my bed every night. We text all day when we’re apart. He’s the person I look forward to seeing most, even though we live together.
He made my coffee this morning.
He knows how I take it.
I know how he takes his.
I don’t know what to do with that information except drink my perfect coffee and try not to get in over my head.
