“I’m just here to change his IV. Sorry.” I open my eyes to see a nurse standing beside me. “Can you tell me your name?” she asks me, and blame the drugs or happiness, but I grin.
“Noah. This is Mackie, my boyfriend.” I lift his hand as he scoffs. “And that is my boyfriend’s boyfriend, Conan.”
She blinks, looking around. “Oh, um, that’s nice. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She giggles, hiding her face as she turns away, and my dad chuckles as he claps my shoulder.
“That will be the drugs, son, make the most of it.”
I smile as I look around, meeting Skylar’s and Alek’s eyes.
“They are right. Don’t worry about a thing, old man. We have it all handled. Just rest.”
“Oh Jesus, not you two handling anything. I won’t have a garage left.”
Everyone laughs, and I finally realize the balloons in the room have writing on them.
“Do those balloons say, ‘Congratulations on not dying?’”
“I got, ‘Sorry you are dead,’ as well, but luckily we didn’t need them,” Skylar jokes.
“Don’t worry, I already kicked him,” Mackie murmurs as he kisses my cheek. “Rest now. You have the rest of your life for everything else.”
He’s right, I do, with him at my side and my family around me.
That’s the funny thing about fear. I was so scared before when it would happen, but now I’m even more terrified—terrified I’ll get everything I ever wanted and still won’t have long enough.
I guess we’ll see.
SIXTY-FIVE
Two months later . . .
Noah’s recovery has been surprisingly easy. He was tired and struggled with his balance and headaches for a few weeks, but we forced him to take it easy. Conan and I took turns looking after him, and even my grandma and his dad took shifts. He was never alone, which annoyed him, but it was the only way I could settle enough to work and oversee the garage and his other businesses.
“This looks amazing,” I murmur as I run my eyes over the spread of food. We’ve been coming to Noah’s parents’ house every week for dinner. He and his father have started to fix their relationship, and I can tell they are both happier for it. I spend time with him all the time as well. He calls me his other son. He’s also adopted Conan, who leans over and serves me another bite, smiling at Noah’s parents.
“Thank you again for having me,” he says sweetly.
Noah’s mother swoons, and I can’t blame her. “Stop flirting,” I grumble.
“Sorry, baby boy.” He winks as he takes my hand under the table.
“We’re glad we could have you all here,” Royce says, and I know he means it. He might not have understood our unconventional love atfirst, but he watched us while Noah was healing and seemed to realize how easily we fit together, and he’s never once brought it up again. In fact, he invites Conan everywhere now, easily accepting him.
“You rich bastards sure have great food,” my grandma remarks. “Remind me to come here more often.”
“You are always welcome, Helena,” Royce replies smoothly, and she winks at me.
“Hear that, boy? I’m going to be a rich man’s mistress.” Noah’s mom laughs. Surprisingly, she hit it off with my grandma, and watching my family interact makes me happier than ever.
I meet Noah’s eyes and see his glistening with happiness. They don’t hold the same reservations and ghosts they once did, and when he leans in and kisses me freely, my heart sighs in bliss.
He never let himself plan for a forever, but now we are.
Conan’s and Noah’s rings sparkle as they each reach for their glasses, matching the one I wear.
“Oh, Mackie, I need your signature before you go please,” Royce says as he takes a bite.
“For what?” I ask curiously as I lean back in my chair, smiling when I realize Noah has one hand on my thigh, as does Conan. They are both possessive. They still have their arguments, but they swiftly make up now, and I couldn’t live without them.
