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I fold my apron up on the rack and step back into the main part of the shop, snatching a tray of brownies set off to the side and accepting the steaming plastic cup the barista hands to me while squishing the phone between my ear and shoulder.
“Cute you think I wasn’t already planning to.”
“I love you, Atlas Huxley. I swear to god.”
“You’ll love me more if you let me get off the phone so I can get home.”
We hang up, and the weight that’s been resting on my shoulders all day lessens. Shiloh’s okay. He’ll always be okay because he has me and Blair.
Blair who looked like he could really use a friend, and I’m not sure who he has in his corner other than us.
He’s always been there for us. Maybe it’s time someone was there for him, too.
Chapter 6
Blair
Noah is waiting for me on the couch when I get back to the apartment that evening, because I texted him and told him that I needed him. I know he was in the middle of a study session because he’s still wearing his glasses and has his laptop out on the coffee table when I come in.
I have to carve out some time this month to fix Dad’s porch before he falls through it or gets the cops called on him, and I need to get Shiloh into the clinic to see his therapist. Both of those are going to leave me strapped for cash, and even if I can make it up somehow, that’s not going to leave me anytime for sleep or art; neither of which are that important, I suppose.
But it does mean I’ll have to cancel my appointment at the tattoo shop.
Which I was really looking forward to, but family comes first.
Noah pushes everything aside and opens his arms as soon as he sees me, and while he’s usually the one wrapped around me, I’m the one who’s snuggling into him now. He’s smaller than me, but that doesn’t stop him from holding me close and running his hands through my hair as I bury my face in his shoulder.
When I get overwhelmed, I crave contact.
It’s why touching Atlas today brought me comfort, why I leaned on him when normally I fight to keep anyone from seeing me when I fall apart.
I shouldn’t have, though. He’s got his hands full with Shiloh—with being who my baby brother needs every day—and it feels like I’d be taking up space where I’m not needed.
Atlas is a nice, caring guy, and as much as he might think he can, two Novak siblings is too much for any one person to handle.
Just ask my dad.
“Want me to order takeout?” Noah asks, rubbing his nose into my hair and grazing his fingers over my shoulders.
I relax further into his hold and shake my head. “Nah. I already ate.”
“Do you want to make out?”
Usually the answer is yes. Kissing is nice. It quiets a lot of the noise in my head, but more than anything right now I just want to be held and talked to, and I want this pressure in my chest to go away.
I shake my head, and Noah doesn’t push it. I know he’s itching to get back to his studies, and when I’m still wound up and can feel the need to cry welling up, I decide to leave him to it and head back to my room.
What me and Noah have is comfortable, casual, but there’s a connection there that’s missing. It isn’t Noah’s fault; it’s just how it is. I don’t have the time or energy to date around and find it.
I strip down to my boxers and flip on the AC, crawling under the comforter and pressing my face into the pillow. Noah would listen if I could talk all this out, but it doesn’t feel like I have the words.
Horny is the last word I’d use to describe how I’m feeling, but I can’t help the way I want to be touched: like it being me means something important. Even if it’s just pretend.
Scrolling Grindr for all of five minutes fails to get me anything I’m excited about. I’m not necessarily picky about the guys I fuck, but every one around today seems to be macho, aggressive men, and I’m not in the mood for that.
I end up thumbing over to the private messaging app and reading through my conversation with A. It’s been a while since I’ve had someone this earnest contact me about their sexuality. Talking to another ace person is great, too.
He never texted me back after our discussion earlier… but it can’t hurt to check in, can it?
