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Do it. Just fucking do it. Reach out and take his hand.
It’s incredibly annoying that I’m talking to myself about this, that I’m nervous about it. The man wants to tattoo my name onhis body, wants his permanently on mine, and I’m freaking out about holding his hand?
It’s just strange. I’ve never been insecure when it comes to sex, and in some ways, I’m not with Troy either, but the fact that this is more than sex makes my wires get frayed and my thoughts short-circuit.
“I’ll always trust you with everything, A,” he says, his words working their way past the last of my defenses and nerves.
“Aww. Aren’t you sweet? I have my boy on lockdown,” I tease, then reach for his hand and interlace our fingers just like I’d seen in my head. He fits just right in my hold, like maybe this is exactly where he’s supposed to be, only there is no maybe about it. Troy is exactly where he is supposed to be.
His footsteps slow down, and he looks at our hands.
“Is this okay?” Annoying fear claws at me that he’s not going to want it, want me, or maybe he thought he wouldn’t care if people know about us, but now he’s having second thoughts.
When Troy looks up at me, though, a knockout smile on his face that almost makes me stumble, I know we’re good.
“It’s better than okay. This is what I never thought I’d have but what I’ve always wanted.”
I feel his smile land in my chest. “Well, shit. I’m gonna have to do things like this more often. Are you going to reward me with your ass when we get back home?”
“You can always have my ass, A. You know that.”
“That was the correct answer,” I joke, earning a chuckle from him.
We go to the ticket booth, and I buy us wristbands for the rides and tickets for the games.
Troy says, “I see you’re serious about this date thing.”
“I know. You’ve broken me.” And I don’t want to be fixed.
“Who knew you were a closet sweetheart?”
“Hey, take that back. I’m—”
“Troy! Hey!” We turn at the sound of Colin’s voice. For a moment, I think I feel Troy tense up, but I can’t be sure. Colin approaches us with Ash, Marty, Jesse, and Lance, and Ash is the first one to notice our linked hands. His eyes shoot to Troy’s.
That’s right, motherfucker. He’s mine.
“I’m confused,” Colin says, forehead wrinkled.
“Dude, why are you holding your brother’s hand?” Marty asks.
“Stepbrother,” Troy corrects, but I don’t say shit because again, I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks. We know the truth, and there’s nothing wrong with what we’re doing, so anyone who tries to make it into something it’s not can kiss my ass.
“Same thing,” Marty scoffs.
“No, it’s not,” Ash bites back, and okay, so maybe he’s not as bad as I thought. Definitely don’t see us being BFFs, but the kid’s all right. “They’re not related. It’s not the same thing at all.”
“Don’t be a dick,” Troy tells Marty.
Marty opens his mouth to reply, and before he can say something he’ll regret, I add, “Be real careful, man.”
Marty holds up his hands in surrender. “I’m not trying to be an asshole, but you have to admit it’s a little shocking. Not even as much the fact that you’re stepbrothers, but…it’s you. You’re kind of a dick.”
I grin. “Thank you. So are you.”
“Atlas,” Troy says, and I know he’s rolling his eyes at me, but that he also thinks I’m cute as fuck.
Colin hasn’t said anything. I’m pretty sure Troy realizes it at the same time I do because the air around us thickens. Colin is his best friend, has been for years. It’ll suck if he’s the one out of all of them who can’t accept this.
