Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
FALLON
“Turn slightly to the left. Just…yes. Perfect. Now, the moment you feel the wind pick up, grab the edges of your dress and throw them to the sides.” He held the camera up, his breath catching in his chest as he waited.
And waited.
Then the air shifted, and Elise grabbed the gauzy material and threw it outward.
His shutter clicked rapidly in succession as she turned, and he knew that one of those was the perfect shot. Letting his camera hang on his neck, he stared at the couple, then nodded. “I think we’ve got it.”
“Can I see them?” she asked.
Fallon smiled but shook his head. “I need to go through and delete all the ones that don’t work. Trust me, if you see them, you’ll start to think they’re all awful and panic. And you’re already stressed about the wedding.”
Elise looked like she was going to argue, and he was used to that. Brides tended to be demanding, but he understood why. He doubted he’d ever have to deal with wedding stress, but he saw it enough.
Luckily, she was one of his more reasonable clients, and after a breath, her shoulders relaxed. Mike walked up and slid his arm around her waist, giving Fallon an apologetic grin.
“She’s just anxious. The last shoot we did with that one company—”
Fallon held up a hand. “Say no more. I get it. You’ll have some raw, unedited shots to check out on Friday, okay?”
Elise’s smile was back. “Amazing. And for the wedding…”
Fallon felt his heart crash down to his feet. He hadn’t brought up the fact that he probably wouldn’t be able to do her wedding. He’d made his choice about the…the child—the word was still strange to say—and the baby would be due a week before her wedding.
He had no idea how pregnancy or any of that stuff worked, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be in any condition to be shooting a wedding by then. But that was a future Fallon problem. He wasn’t making any business decisions until he saw a doctor, and that wasn’t for another three weeks.
The clinic Gage’s therapist had recommended would see him, but they were also fully booked.
They managed to squeeze him in, but it was a ways off and a tight fit.
For now, he had a new prescription vitamin to take—in a disgusting liquid form because he couldn’t do large pills—and an appointment to get some bloodwork done.
Gage was meant to go with him to that too, but he was debating about taking himself. He didn’t want to rely too hard on anyone. People could walk away for any reason. People could hurt him for any reason.
He couldn’t take that risk, as much as he trusted his new friend.
And as much as he wanted Gage, which was yet another problem. His body was feeling things. Different things. It was making him hot and horny and fucking desperate. And he knew without a doubt that Gage would help him take care of his problem if he asked.
But what would that do to their friendship if he did?
How would he recover if it was amazing, and then it all stopped?
He smiled at the engaged couple as he walked over to grab his camera bag from the beach. He had a long drive ahead of him. It was nearly an hour before he would be back home and able to sink into a warm bath and curl up in front of his TV.
Gage wasn’t going to be back from his shift until the next day, which gave Fallon plenty of time to think. Because it wasn’t just this strange relationship he had to figure out. It was also that his brothers were becoming more demanding about his time.
He’d only seen them twice since he moved into his new place, and both times, they’d studied him like he was under a microscope. It wasn’t going to be long before Frankie figured him out. He was too good at noticing everything.
He said a quick goodbye to the couple, then headed to his car, packing his things away in his foam carrying case. When everything was secure, he threw his phone into the holder and started his GPS. Not to home, where he really wanted to go, but to his brother’s.
He didn’t want to have this conversation today, but he’d made his choice. He was going forward. And as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t run from his reality any longer.
The drive to Frankie’s didn’t take as long as he’d wanted it to, and he allowed himself a mini panic attack in the parking lot before turning the car off and walking inside.
He hadn’t been there in so long. It had been months since the confrontation with Charlie in the hallway, and then more months since Fallon had slept with him and was now going to be a dad.
But it felt like years had gone by. Everything was familiar, but also, it wasn’t. Lucas no longer lived in his own space—and he and Frankie had moved into the three bedroom, which was up the stairs and down a different hallway.
Fallon counted the numbers on the doors as he passed them, then took a breath when he reached his brother’s place. His hand shook as he lifted it, and then he knocked. He wasn’t used to doing that, but he’d walked in a few times with his brother and Lucas getting intimate on the couch.
Luckily, he hadn’t been subjected to dick or ass, but he never wanted to take the risk again.
He held his breath as he waited, then the door opened, and Lucas’s face appeared. “Yeah?”
“Hi.”
“Hi,” Lucas said slowly. “Uh…you gotta do better than that, bud.”
Fallon swallowed heavily. “Sorry, I’m…it’s—”
“Fallon. Oh shit.” Lucas swung the door wide and stepped back. “Maybe we need like a bell or a buzzer or something so you don’t have to announce yourself. Also, why the fuck are you knocking?”
Fallon walked in. “Last time I didn’t, you had your tongue in my brother’s mouth.”
Lucas flushed and bowed his head. “Ah. Yeah. Right. Sometimes I forget people can just, like, see things. But I swear we keep it private now.”
“Mm.” Fallon had been fooled too many times to believe him. “Is my brother home?”
“No. Elodie had a school thing. He won’t be back until after dinner. You should come in and wait though. If he finds out you came by and he missed you, he’s literally going to lose his mind.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
Lucas clapped his hands. “Amazing. Perfect. I will woo you with a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich.”
Fallon’s stomach gave a violent rumble. “Untoasted. Please. I know you like to cook them that way, but—”
“I like to make food people want to eat,” Lucas said, setting his hand on the wall. He dragged a touch along the path until he got to the kitchen and began to pull out bread and the jar of peanut butter. “Please sit. I’ll bring everything to you. I know how you take everything.”
Fallon didn’t entirely believe him. But he wasn’t used to people paying attention the way Lucas did. He supposed it was fair to assume his blindness made memorizing stuff more natural for him than for most people.
Fallon was good at it, but only the stuff he was interested in. He could repeat facts about photography that dated back all the way to the first recorded images, but if you asked him who the third president of the United States was, he couldn’t tell you.
He didn’t give a shit and never would.
Dropping onto the couch, he appreciated that not much about the apartment had changed except the location. He hated when people rearranged. He knew it wasn’t his place to get bothered by what people did to their own homes, but he always found it unsettling.
But luckily for him, Elodie needed that kind of structure. She could see, but her brain didn’t process visual information very well, and in spite of all the foam coverings, she still knocked into things.
A lot.
His stomach twisted, and he wondered what his little sister was going to think of the new baby. God…a new baby.
He didn’t think people really turned green when they got nauseous, but he was tempted to look in the mirror because his skin felt weird.
“Food,” Lucas said, startling Fallon out of his thoughts. He set the plate down on the table, and Fallon was impressed by the way he’d cut almost all the crusts off, except for the bottoms, which he liked to use as food handles.
And he brought water, the glass filled to the top with ice first.
“Thank you.” He didn’t touch it, and Lucas seemed to notice after a moment because his brows dipped.
“Did I do it wrong?”
“No. I’m just having a panic attack,” Fallon said. His ears were starting to ring, and his face was getting hot. Yep, it was a panic attack.
“Literally?”
“Mm.”
“Can I—how can I help?” Lucas asked. He began to wring his hands together and rock back and forth. Fallon had never been much of a rocker. The motion made him dizzy. He preferred really, really tight squeezes.
But he also wasn’t going to ask his brother’s boyfriend to hold him like that. He wasn’t sure he could handle Lucas touching him that way. At least until he got to know him better.
“I,” Fallon said, then swallowed. “It’ll pass in a minute. Sorry. I have big news to tell everyone, and I think I’m freaking out about it.”
He’d always struggled with emotions. Not because he didn’t have them, but because his brain tended to compartmentalize them to make it easier to cope.
The problem with that was he didn’t always consciously feel those emotions, but his body reacted as though he did.
Which meant he had panic attacks that seemed to come from nowhere.
He didn’t feel actively nervous about telling Frankie, but deep in his subconscious, he was freaking the fuck out.
“Do you want to tell me first?” Lucas’s rocking slowed down, and his hands were quietly stimming at his sides. “Maybe if you tell someone who isn’t one of your brothers, it’ll be easier when you talk to them.”
That was an option. And not a bad one. He knew Lucas wouldn’t care.
“Okay.” He bit his lip and stared down at his feet. He pressed his toes into the floor and felt the pressure relieve some of his stress. “I’m pregnant.”
Lucas went dead silent. Then he cleared his throat. “Ah. Uh…” He swore under his breath. “I’m sorry, I’m fucking this up. I don’t know if I’m supposed to say congratulations or I’m sorry.”