Chapter 9 #2
Landon takes a big breath, his shoulders rising and falling quickly. “What did you mean by failed hookup?”
What? Oh. I did mention that, huh? “Well…” Jesus, why did I mention that, and what do I say now?
I could play it off like it was nothing, but that feels so disingenuous, and Landon seems…
fragile. I don’t know how else to explain it.
“Well,” I say again, swallowing hard. “The first time I met Ben, we came back here to have sex.”
Landon glances at me with a small grin, then shocks me by rolling his eyes.
“Yeah, I’m aware of what a hookup is. What I don’t understand is how you fail at it.
Are you just not attracted to him?” Before I can answer, he rambles on.
“I mean, it’s possible he’s not your type, I guess.
But then I kinda feel like Ben is everyone’s type.
” Heat crawls up his throat, splashing color across his face.
He buries his face in his hands, groaning softly. “I’m gonna shut up now.”
I just stare at him for a second, marveling once again over how damn adorable he is. Danger, danger, danger.
“Nah, you don’t need to shut up. Ben probably is a lot of people’s type.” I take a deep breath, nerves rattling my stomach. “But it’s not really about whether he’s my type or not.”
He lifts his head from his hands, peering at me with large, dark brown eyes. “No? Then what is it?”
“I’ve been burned before. Can I tell you a secret?”
He nods slowly. Fuck, he’s so earnest. “Anything.”
“I really wanted that hookup. I was just afraid.”
“Afraid,” Landon echoes, face twisting in confusion.
There’s something about Landon that makes him feel like a kindred spirit.
If there’s anyone who will understand my irrational fear, I think it’s probably him.
He’s afraid too. Maybe not in the same way as me, and probably not for the same reason, but that doesn’t really matter.
It’s that damn string again, connecting us.
I sigh. “Yeah. It’s terrifying to put yourself out there.
” Scooting a little closer to him on the couch, I nudge him with my elbow.
“I think you probably know a little bit about wanting something but being afraid of it too.” He looks at me like he’s wondering how I dipped into his mind and pulled that out. I shrug. “I let my fear win.”
For a long while, he doesn’t say anything. Hell, I don’t have any room to judge. God knows I’m not confronting my fears.
“I’m not sure how to overcome my fears,” he finally says after a few minutes. “How do you overcome programming you’ve been taught your entire life?”
Damn. For all the things I went through growing up, I never, ever had to question my parents’ love for me.
Hell, I was thirteen when I loudly proclaimed I was in love with Lincoln.
Not only did they not bat an eye, they went out and bought a pride flag to hang on our porch.
Three years later, when I told them I didn’t think I was a boy or a girl, they helped me research what that meant for me, and a nonbinary flag joined the fray.
“With time and love, I think, but I’m no expert,” I say when I realize I’ve been quiet for too long.
Landon sighs. “I’m not sure it matters if I overcome my fears, anyway. I don’t think they feel the same way.”
“Ben?” I ask quietly. It would be impossible to miss the signs.
“Well,” Landon says, then pauses, and for a brief second, I wonder if I’ve got it all wrong. “Yeah, Ben.”
My stomach twists. It can’t be jealousy. It absolutely cannot be. And even though all I can see are flashes of deep, angry green—jagged and rough on the canvas of my mind—I refuse to call it that.
“I think Ben likes you too,” I grit out, the words feeling like ash on my tongue.
Landon hums but doesn’t respond, settling back on the couch and crossing an ankle over his knee.
He already looks comfortable here. Like he belongs. Those goddamn strings.
A beautiful sky blue joins the green, softening the edges of its harsh strokes.
When Ben knocks on the door, Landon nearly jumps out of his skin, which startles me too.
I jump up, opening the door for Ben. He’s got a backpack slung over his shoulder and an easy grin on his lips. “Hey, Cotton Candy,” he says, brushing past me and into the living room before I can even say a word.
That stupid-ass nickname. My stomach flips violently. Ugh. I hate it here. “Stop calling me that,” I say, shutting the door.
“Sure,” Ben says smoothly. “What should I call you instead? Now keep in mind it has to be equally adorable and fitting.”
Landon laughs. Fucking traitor. I thought we had just found some common ground.
“Parker,” I say slowly. “You can call me Parker. It’s fitting, since it’s my name. And also adorable because it’s mine.”
Ben looks at me with a grin. “I don’t know. Just doesn’t have the same hit as Cotton Candy, but I can try to come up with someone else, my little paintbrush.”
“What?” Landon says, laughing harder now.
“Yeah, what? That’s even worse somehow.”
“Maybe that’s my plan.” Ben waggles his eyebrows at me. “Come up with worse and worse names until you realize that Cotton Candy is the best.”
Landon clears his throat, looking past Ben to stare at me with those damn earnest brown eyes. “I’d like it noted that I have never called you Cotton Candy.”
I nod solemnly. “And that’s why you’re my favorite person in the room.”
Landon’s surprised but pleased smile has my heart rate spiking. Thankfully, Ben’s outraged gasp has me coming to my senses. I can’t help what the strings of fate want to do. But I can help how I let them have power over me.
“What are we watching tonight?” Ben asks, making himself at home on my couch beside Landon. As always, it’s a treat to watch the pink flush crawl up Landon’s throat and settle on his cheeks.
I sit down beside him. “Don’t you have to study?”
“Yeah, but I can listen and study.”
“Can you?” Landon asks.
The cheeky grin on Ben’s face has me smiling too. “Sure. I have two older brothers and a younger sibling. I’m incredibly good at multitasking.”
“Alright then.” I settle back on the couch, turning the TV on.
Twenty minutes later, Landon and I are entranced by the twisting, turning episode I’ve chosen, and Ben has moved from the couch to the floor, his textbook spread out before him with a notebook filled to the brim with notes.
He’s tapping his highlighter on the table, eyes bouncing from his work to the TV.
I feel a little tug in my chest as I watch him, long legs stretched out under the table, concentrating hard as he works.
I try to ignore him. Him and Landon both.
It’s a nearly impossible task. They’re too big.
Too commanding. Their presence in my home and in my space feels too comfortable and right.
I can ignore the fluttering of my heart and the flipping of my stomach, though. I can ignore the way Landon is beautiful sky blue, casting a bright, clear glow wherever he goes. I can ignore the way Ben is blinding yellow, actual sunshine in human form.
I can, and I will.