Page 96
“So, how’s it going?”
Bastian rakes a hand through his hair, and there’s a level of exhaustion in his face that I’ve never seen before. Mik’s expression tells me he knows more than I do.
I lean forward slightly. “I’m clearly missing something here.”
“It’s complicated,” Bastian says.
Complicated is something I know all too well, so I keep my mouth shut.
“Taylen and I keep…connecting. Physically. But every time we get close to something real, he pulls away.”
“And you let him,” I say quietly.
He looks at me for a beat.
“Yeah. I do.”
Mik glances between us.
“I think I’m in love with him,” Bastian says.
The bass drops and my hand tightens around my glass.
I’ve known this for a while. Or at least suspected, but hearing him say it aloud is different because now I’m sitting across the table from a man in love with his best friend’s younger brother, and he doesn’t know that I know exactly how he feels.
“Not sure it can go anywhere though,” Bastian adds, more quietly. “There are too many walls between us.”
“What’s the biggest obstacle?” Mik asks.
Bastian is quiet for a moment. His whiskey rotates slowly between his hands.
“Taylen is Jackson’s younger brother. Seven years ago, we kissed in a club. Neither of us was in the right place. It was the fifth anniversary of Jackson’s death, and I was a wreck. After that, I started avoiding Taylen whenever I went home. Jackson was protective of Taylen. And the last thing I want is to end up hurting Taylen and feel like I’ve let my best friend down.”
Mik’s face goes soft. I take a long sip of my whiskey.
“Have you tried being in the same place at the same time?” Mik asks. “Actually talking instead of whatever dance you’ve been doing?”
Bastian’s expression is the answer.
“Physical connection is easy,” Mik says. “Emotional honesty? That’s the hard part.”
I stare at my drink because I don’t trust my face if I look at Bastian right now.
Because I am where he is. I’ve been there for ten years.
He’s talking about the guilt of Jackson. His guilt is his best friend’s memory. Mine is my best friend sitting across from me right now. But it’s the same. The same fear that what you want is going to cost you something you can’t afford to lose.
Bastian is quiet. Then he says, “He’s definitely worth fighting for. Worth whatever it takes to prove this isn’t just a convenient release or temporary comfort.”
Mik lifts his glass. “Then fight.”
They clink. I lift mine too and drink without saying anything.
They keep talking, and I hear it all, but I’ve stopped being able to focus because there’s a question sitting in the middle of my chest that I can’t stop turning over.
If Bastian is willing to fight through Jackson’s memory for Taylen, would he really begrudge me the same thing?
I’ve spent ten years assuming yes. But the man in front of me is not the man who set that rule all those years ago when he was trying to protect his little brother’s heart from touring musicians.
