Landon has always been taken care of. In fact, I believe the only work he’s ever been forced to do is that time he briefly worked at a Burger King with Julian. And I think some of that definitely affects his ‘I want my family to be proud of me’ desperation.
A part of me wants to leave him be, letting him struggle this out alone. He’s turning twenty-three at the end of this year, and he needs to learn how to handle hard shit on his own. But the other part of me? That piece that holds him together at night when he wakes up crying or fighting against an imaginary force?
That part of me wants to snatch his phone up and tell his parents to just say it. To say they love him, even if he’s not cut out to be a working man.
Luckily, I’m not forced to decide between tough love andlovelove, because his father says, “Thanks for showing us your new place, Lan. It’s great. And I’m proud of you for finally standing up for yourself and telling us what you want.”
Landon’s entire body deflates, a look of complete and utter shock coating his features. “Y-you’re… proud of me?”
I can’t help it: I’m grinning. He sounds so awed and so fucking happy that I want to cheer for him.
“Of course, Lan,” his mother cuts in. “You’re smart, funny, and even if you don’t intend to use it, you furthered your education. That’s all good parents can ask for.”
He slides down the door, landing firmly against the carpet as his knees draw in. And then, as if I’ve filled the entire room withthose stars of his, he smiles so brightly it lights up the entire space.
“Thank you,” Landon whispers, and I tune out the rest of their conversation as I stare at his face, his beautiful smile, and the way his fingers are trembling around the phone.
Just taking him in.
A bit later, he’s tossing his phone to the side. Vibrant green eyes meet mine, and for a moment, we just stare at each other. His expression is screaming at me, filling me in on all the little thoughts twirling through his head.
Landon is undeniably, incredibly happy.
“You heard that, right?” he murmurs, standing shakily before he walks toward me.
“I heard it, babydoll,” I assure him.
Collapsing onto the other side of the couch, he swings his legs up into my lap, sighing blissfully. “My parents are nice, don’t get me wrong. But they don’t normally… I don’t get that often. I feel…”
He can’t find the words, so I do what any good boyfriend would and offer, “Complete?”
Landon grins, resting the side of his face against the back of the couch as he gives me a little nod. And damn, as if being someone’sboyfriendisn’t already weird enough, what I’m feeling now is the cherry on top.
I am so in love, so insanely content, that nothing in this whole universe could bring me down.
“Also,” Landon begins, his smile faltering. “I may or may not have invited some guests over.”
I can’t fucking stand Landon. He just has to ruin this perfect moment, doesn’t he? I havesobeen brought down.
“What guests?” I sneer, narrowing my eyes as I grip his ankle tightly.
He just grins, shrugging his shoulders. “Well, obviously the boys. Oh, and Susie. Her plane will get here later this evening, but she’ll spend the night at Chastain so she can spend some time with Julian and Atlas.”
He has this entire day planned out and never thought to include me in the decision-making. The urge to lean forward and slap the side of his head is so prominent that I have to squeeze his ankle even tighter to resist.
Landon rolls his eyes. “Don’t be a baby. Do you truly think Julian wouldn’t have barged in here on his own, knowing I live here now? And Susie’s been hounding me for days, asking where I am and what I’m up to.”
He has a point. All four of those boys are very persistent, and Susiedoesdeserve some answers. I just wish all of this wasn’t atmyexpense. I had… plans for our evening.
And Landon must see it in my expression, because he smirks, adding, “Don’t worry, old man. We still have all night to be alone together.”
“I want to kick your ass so badly right now,” I admit, and he laughs, turning those vibrant green eyes toward the front-facing window as headlights light up the room.
“Well, you’ll have to postpone my beating, because I think Julian just arrived.”
It is not just the boys who arrive. As Julian, Atlas, Cameron, and Atticus file in through the front door, Abraham, Theodora, Abigail, and Jeremy filter in too.
“Master Abraham,” I greet, standing from the couch as I extend a hand to him. “I wasn’t aware you were coming.”
