Page 78 of Line Change

Grayson can’t gayly sense all the gay sex I’ve been having. That’s not a thing.

His attention settles on the couch. Nolan slept there, and we’ve done other things there, but all Grayson can see are the gray cushions I straightened before he arrived.

“Are you moving again?” Grayson asks.

The question pulls my attention off the couch. “No.”

“Then why does it still look temporary?” He points at the empty shelves. “You’ve been here for months.”

“The condo came furnished.”

“I know. None of this is yours.”

I know what he’s looking at. The furniture belongs to the team, the shelves are empty, and I haven’t picked a single thing in the room. “It works.”

Grayson looks at me for another second, then goes into the kitchen and opens my refrigerator without asking. That confirms I was right about the underwear drawer.

“Did Korolev make it to the camp?” I ask.

“He left at six this morning.” Grayson moves the eggs aside and peers behind them. “Vasya’s coaching through Monday. I had the time off. I wanted to see you.”

I go around the counter and check the refrigerator myself even though I already know what’s in it. “Did you eat?”

“Only pretzels. I’m starving.”

My phone buzzes on the counter before I can tell him we’ll go out.

Nolan’s name fills the top of the screen.

Hanging out tonight?

A second message arrives while I’m looking at the first. It’s a GIF of a man running after a bus, both arms over his head. I WANT TO COME! flashes in white letters across the bottom.

I nearly throw the phone across the kitchen.

“What?” Grayson asks.

“Nothing.”

The man misses the bus and starts running again. There is just enough plausible deniability for Nolan to make me explain why I thought he meant anything sexual by it, probably while looking pleased with himself.

I type Busy tonight and send it, then turn the phone facedown without adding that my brother is here.

I pick up my keys. “Let’s go.”

There’s a restaurant ten minutes away that stays open late. I tell him to get his jacket before he finds something in my kitchen and decides it counts as dinner.

The address means nothing when I put it into my phone. As soon as we pull into the lot, the red sign over the door reminds me that Nolan sent me this map pin a few weeks ago, along with the name of what I was supposed to order. I could drive us somewhere else, but Grayson is already climbing out of the car and looking for the entrance.

The dinner rush is over, leaving only a few occupied tables and music low enough that we don’t have to fight it. A server seats us near the window. I find the noodle dish Nolan told me to get while Grayson reads the entire menu, turns it over, then goes back to the first page. He asks what I’m ordering, considers the noodles, and decides on something else.

When the server comes, Grayson changes his mind after the server has taken one step away and apologizes while asking for his first choice again.

My phone vibrates against my thigh. I leave it in my pocket.

Once the server leaves, Grayson asks, “How are you settling in?”

“Fine.”