AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“How is it, being all boyfriended up?”
“Feels like what I was born to do. But I don’t think it would have felt that way with anyone else.”
“Nope.” Barney shifts. “I strongly believe that we don’t have soul mates, specifically, more that there are certain people in this world who we mush with.”
“Mush with?”
“Yeah. Like you smoosh together. Combine souls or whatever romantic shit people say.”
“And you guys are mushed?”
He nods. “You too. Like one big, amorphous blob.”
“You’re making this relationship thing sound better by the second.”
He has a point though. It’s how I’ve been feeling. Like Orson is a part of me who I can’t let go, can’t be without. Maybe that should freak me out and launch me into some spiral of self-doubt, but there’s nothing. One thing Orson and I do is talk to each other. About everything. It’s hard to open up like that, but every time I do, it gets easier. Every time his reaction isn’t the drama I’m expecting, it makes me trust him even more. Makes me buy in to that four-letter word he reciprocated and makes me believe we could be the real deal.
“Phew, that was an effort,” Mustard Orson says, joining us. He hands over my drink, and after one sip of the familiar, delicious liquid, I throw him a look.
“Beer?”
“It’s been a while since you had one. I’m more than okay if you want to indulge and need to be carried home.”
“Aww, you’d do that for me?”
Orson snorts and takes a sip of his ginger ale. “Fuck, no. You’ll be on your own. But I just wanted you to know that I have zero reservations about leaving you on the barroom floor for someone else to deal with.” He shoots me a grin. “It won’t make me love you any less.”
“Quick, someone grab my swooning couch.”
“You’d think you’d keep one on hand by this point. I’m incredibly romantic.”
We snigger at each other because when it comes to traditional romance, we arenotit. But every day we spend together proves that there’s no one way to do something. We look out for each other, trust each other, can talk about anything. He’s entrusted me with his secrets, and I’ve done the same with him. We have fun and almost drowned together, show interest in shit the other person likes even if it isn’t something we’re all that drawn to, and he isconstantlysurprising me. All of him.
I never understood the term “partners,” but he’s one hundred percent mine.
We spend the night with our friends. He does some axe throwing, but I sit that the hell out because with every beer I consume, I’m hitting that side of overly tipsy. I’m in my happy place.
Friends I’ve known forever, a boyfriend I don’t have to babysit all night but who gets so excited to see me every time we find each other again, the happy vibes of Halloween, and free-flowing liquor.
Orson finds me at one point and pulls me toward the photo booth Art has rented. We take a bunch of cute couple-y photos for ourselves and then some lewd-as-fuck nipple flashes, hot-doggy-style poses, and “mustard” explosions to show everyone else.
Then, I have to kiss him. Ihaveto. Our sense of humor and personalities align so goddamn well that Barney might not believe in soul mates, but it’s hard for me to think that Orson might not be mine.
Only when I pull back and Orson leaves to show Art our pictures, my gaze lands on Molly. He’s watching me with pouted lips and sad eyes.Ouch. I didn’t even know he was at this party, and the last thing I want to do is flaunt my happiness in his face, but I also refuse not to show Orson affection when we’re in public either. I’m not going to stop every time I want to touch him, just to check who’s around.
Kilborough is my home, and Orson is my future. Unfortunately, this situation isn’t one we can avoid forever.
With a deep sigh, I head in Molly’s direction. I’ve tried being understanding; I’ve tried to let him down easily. Hell, I empathize with the man because I’m not innocent here—I let him go on thinking there was a chance. But that chance doesn’t exist anymore.
If I have to be the asshole for him to move on, I will be. I’m set on Orson, I won’t change my mind about him, and if I have it my way, we’ll still be together when we’re old geezers who argue over which TV dinners to get for the week.
Even if that’s not the case, I don’t want someone hanging around as a backup plan. Molly is better than that.
“Hey,” I say when I reach him. “Your guard dog Will around?”
“He’s here somewhere.” Molly sways on his feet and looks me over wistfully. “He didn’t want me to come when Dad mentioned you’d be here with Orson.”
I chuckle. “Think he might have a thing for you.”
