Chapter 30
THIRTY
ROMAN
“There it is again!”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course, I’m sure. What kind of question is that?”
My lips tip up as I go through a client’s email, looking at the references he provided for a new tattoo design before I’m done for the day, and pretending I don’t hear Bodhi and Eve whispering loudly a few feet away from me.
“I don’t know, it seems kind of far-fetched,” Eve muses while Bodhi sucks in a breath in outrage.
“I’m telling you, this is the third time he has smiled today.”
“And that’s exactly why it’s far-fetched. When has he ever smiled three times in just a few hours?”
“You realize I can hear both of you, right?” I drawl without looking up.
“Oh, no! He heard us!” Bodhi whispers-shouts dramatically. “What are we going to do now?”
I chuckle, finally looking up to look at my two friends.
Eve is snickering in her piercing station as she scrolls on her phone, while Bodhi is staring at me, mid-cleanup, as if I’ve grown a second head.
“Holy fuck. You’re happy,” he mutters in a tone full of awe, his amber eyes widening.
His words give me pause.
Happy.
Is that what I am?
My mind floods with image after image of what every day with Jesse is like—waking up with him, eating cereal side by side on the counter, watching him grin whenever he catches me looking at him, kissing him until stopping feels impossible.
And even though my chest aches with something that is unique for him, I somehow also feel lighter, calmer.
Maybe… Maybe this is what being happy feels like.
Maybe it’s not just about smiling or laughing all the time, but something quiet and slow and effortless.
Something that ravages your heart and makes you feel like you’re going to die because nothing this painful should be so beautiful, but that also makes you want to live so you can feel it again and again.
Maybe happiness is him—him falling asleep in my arms with a smile on his face, him melting and leaning into my touch with eyes that sparkle, him coming apart in my hands and burning bright.
And maybe happiness is seeing myself through him.
I blink the images away, realizing Bodhi is still staring at me because I never said anything back, so I simply shrug.
Bodhi’s eyebrows climb so far up, they basically disappear with his light-brown curls.
“Eve, Roman just shrugged.”
“Okay. So?” comes Eve’s voice as she twirls a finger around a dark red lock of hair.
“So, it means he’s not denying it.”
“Good for him, then.”
“Is there a reason why you’re talking about him like he’s not there?” Jackson says gruffly and fully amused from his office.
“Bodhi started it,” she quips.
“I’m sorry, okay?” Bodhi mumbles, a faint blush tinging his cheeks as he shoots a quick glance towards the office.
“It just took me by surprise, that’s all.
” The blush lasts for all of three seconds before he’s skipping towards me like an excited puppy.
Sometimes it’s difficult to believe he’s actually older than me and that he was here long before I showed up. “Is there a special someone?”
Eve groans. “God, you’re such a hopeless romantic, I swear.”
“Well, excuse me for believing there’s someone out there who’s meant for us and us alone,” he mutters.
“Is that so?”
“Yes. As a matter of fact, I know exactly who that is for me. He just doesn’t know it yet.” His eyes shimmer with something indecipherable, before it’s gone and he’s focusing back on me with a wide smile. “So? Is there?”
My heart squeezes at the thought of my beautiful Jesse and I nod.
Bodhi grins and plops down on a chair, looking at me as if I’ve given him the best news ever.
“Roman met someone. Wow.”
“You’re doing it again,” Eve says, and Jackson’s laugh carries over to us.
“Fuck off. Both of you,” he aims at them, before turning back to me. “When did you meet them?”
The words come out before I can think them over.
“About six years ago.”
The silence that follows is deafening, disturbed only by the sound of heavy steps behind me, and glancing to my right, I see Jackson, leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed, his icy-blue eyes piercing, his gaze knowing.
Because they all know, at least what I could bring myself to tell them. I’ve never shared with anyone what it was like having Jesse coming into my life back then, what it was like being with him, what it was like leaving him.
They were our moments, mine and his only.
But they know of him. Of the boy who showed me what color was like even when everything was black. Of the boy who shone his light on me and filled me with a warmth I’d never felt before. Of the boy who owned my entire heart.
At least, until I let fear take over me and I gave it all up.
“It’s him, isn’t it?” Bodhi asks, his eyes flicking over to the blue jay tattoo, resting on my skin beneath my T-shirt.
I nod. “He’s been staying with me for the past few weeks. He came for a summer job and we ended up living together in my father’s house while he’s here.”
The words make something tighten in my chest, and I have to stop myself from rubbing the throbbing spot with my hand.
While he’s here?
Fuck, is it already mid-July? I remember him telling me that it was an 8-week program, so there can’t be more than two weeks left.
But it doesn’t matter how much of it is left because he’s not leaving after it’s done.
Right?
The mere thought burns like acid in my throat, making my heart pound and my hands clench with the need to touch him, to make sure he’s here, to feel his pulse beating against my fingers, his shallow breath in my mouth.
The program can fucking end, but he’s not leaving. He can’t—he can’t leave.
“Roman.” A strong palm grips my shoulder, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts, and I look up, meeting Jackson’s gaze. “Easy, son.”
I exhale, my heart racing like mad, the inside of my palms throbbing from how tight my fists were instants ago.
“What’s the matter?” he asks in the deep, soothing voice that he’s always used with me. The voice I imagine a concerned parent would use.
“I can’t lose him again, Jackson. Not now that I’ve got him back again.”
He looks at me steadily, unflinchingly.
“Why would you lose him?”
A bitter laugh scrapes its way out.
“Because he was never supposed to find me again in the first place after I let him go. Because he came here just for the summer and he was always going to leave. Because I’m a fucking mess and I wish he didn’t have to put up with it.”
Jackson’s lips press together, and I know what he’s going to say before he even opens his mouth. He’s one of the few people who know me, who’ve seen me at my worst, who’ve seen everything I’ve done to crawl out of the fucking black hole that threatened to swallow me whole countless of times.
And the truth is that, even though I’m calling myself a mess, and I’m speaking the words, they don’t feel as cutting as they used to be.
They don’t feel right anymore, almost as if I’m simply repeating what I’ve always been told about myself, what used to be familiar, but the words no longer fit.
Like clothes I’m finally learning to outgrow.
“You’re not a mess, Roman. You’re just a very, very hurt boy—hurt, in fact, by those who were never supposed to hurt you, and that doesn’t simply go away. But he knows that. He knew it then, and he knows it now. Or he wouldn’t have chosen to stay. Then, and now.”
Jesse’s soft I’ve got you whispers through my mind, all the ways he’s been embracing all the jagged parts of me then and now spreading dizzying warmth through my entire body. All the ways he’s made everything easier just by being who he is, by letting me see myself through his eyes.
Because he’s got me, but I’ve also got him and I let myself forget that.
I forgot I was his safe space long before he became mine.
And I think it’s time I reminded both of us.
“You’re right.”
Jackson’s eyes bore into mine for a few seconds, before he nods with a heavy pat on my shoulder.
A soft sniffle draws both our eyes to the source of the sound.
“It wasn’t me,” Bodhi says in a choked voice.
“Sure,” Eve snorts, but her eyes are suspiciously shiny too.
Affection surges inside me for all of them, for being here, for making me feel like I could belong somewhere, even though I’ll never be someone who can be as open, or friendly, or social as most people would like.
Bodhi glares at Eve, but there’s no heat behind it. His words are quiet when he looks at me.
“Can you please be happy again?”
Yes. I’ll make sure of it.
***
The sky is almost dark when I get home.
At first glance, the kitchen and living room look empty, but they’re not.
Faint amber light shines in the living room from a couple of small lamps, the subtle hum of the air-conditioning travelling through the entire floor.
The kitchen shows signs of use, the unmistakable smell of food still lingering in the air.
He might not be in these rooms, but he’s everywhere. He’s always everywhere.
I take off my shoes and leave my helmet by the entrance as I register for the first time the music coming from upstairs. And I follow it, knowing exactly where it will lead me.
To him.
I don’t need to look for him when I climb the stairs, my eyes are immediately drawn to him.
The bathroom door is open, the sweet vanilla and caramel scent that always clings to his skin and hair filling the hallway.
And Jesse is right there—brushing his long hair, still wet from the shower, stray drops falling from the strands on the black, sleeveless shirt he’s wearing.
On my sleeveless, black shirt that is long enough on him to cover his ass.
He’s humming to the song that plays from his phone, a song from one of the many bands we’ve listened to together in my room when we were eighteen.
My feet carry me to him, and I wonder if there has always been a string tying us together.
If he was always supposed to find me here again.
If I was always supposed to find my way back to him.