22. Noah
TWENTY-TWO
NOAH
Bry
So here we all are, sitting on the sofas, waiting for Bry to start. But he hasn’t yet. He’s got his arms balanced across his knees with his head dropped forward. All he’s done is clear his throat, twist his hands, and build the anticipation.
“Shit, bro. You’re making me nervous. Spit out whatever you have to say before you give me an ulcer,” Max demands, knee bouncing quickly.
“We can help with whatever the shit is.” Nate nods, far more relaxed in his reclined position, arm stretched along the back of the sofa.
Clearing his throat again, Bry starts. “So I spent some time at the farm with Rosy earlier today…”
That has Nate leaning forward, his attention zeroed in.
“We had a nice time. I took her some leftovers for lunch, then we sat and ate them together. I told her a bit about Mum and Dad, and my birth mum.”
That news surprises me. It’s not something he usually talks about with anyone else.
The pain of losing the family he’d wanted so badly is something he still struggles with.
It’s been hard to witness him drowning in grief so easily.
I don’t think it was easier for me to accept our parents passing.
It still feels bittersweet thinking of them; there will never be a moment where I don’t miss them, that I don’t feel the urge to call them up and talk about my day and hear about theirs.
So for him to open up and talk to Rosy about it, it’s shifted something.
“I—ah…I may have almost kissed her,” he stutters, grimacing as he glances between us.
“We kissed. She’s mine,” Nate growls, his shoulder drawing tight.
Digging deep into the years of teacher training and dealing with numerous teenagers, I take a moment to let the impatience wash through me.
“She’s free to make her own choices about who she does and doesn’t speak to, or who she does and doesn’t spend her time with. It might be worth talking to her if you’re finding it difficult; be open about it,” I say to Nate, using my teacher tone to help diffuse the situation.
I’m not mad about Bry’s confession. If he’s been comfortable enough to open up to her, then there are obviously feelings developing for him. It hasn’t gone unnoticed how much he’s enjoyed having her over here, and cooking and taking care of her.
“If licking something, or someone, means it’s now yours…
I should probably mention that I’ve licked Rosy’s freckles,” Max quips.
His mischief knows no bounds. How does he not see how on edge Nate is?
I’m trying to guide everyone in the right direction, and the two of them are just rebounding in opposing ones.
Bry clears his throat. “That’s not how it works, and you know it. I may not be pushy or abrasive in declaring my intentions, but I’m also not going to step back unless Rosy asks me to. I like how she makes me feel, and I want to get to know her more and see where things go.”
Now that he’s got the confession out, he looks more sure, less on edge.
“Did you talk about exclusivity with each other?” I direct to Nate, somehow managing to sound firm yet coaxing. With the way his body is coiled tightly, caution is definitely warranted.
It’s not usual that I get nervous about something, but a trickle or unease unfurls in my gut as I wait for his answer. I have not brought any of my feelings up before, knowing that Nate has been active in his attraction and affection for Rosy.
“No. What if she doesn’t choose me?”
Relief at his confirmation hits me. But I’m surprised by his insecure, gruffly worded question.
That’s really what’s at the heart of his possessive claim on her.
If he clings on hard enough, she won't be able to leave him for someone else.
His head drops low between his shoulders, which curl forward, making the bulky man look somehow… small.
“What if she does?” I state, projecting a confidence in my tone that I’m reluctant to fully embrace or feel yet. “Or what if she doesn’t have to choose?”
Three heads spin to face me, fixing their attention on me. All with varying shocked expressions.
I shrug, feigning an ease I don’t yet feel. “We already work well together as a family. Rosy’s obviously struggling without one. It might be unconventional, but we don’t have to make her choose if more than one of us has feelings and she reciprocates…”
The silence is deafening.
Max is shaking his head, looking completely blindsided by my suggestion. Surely he could see where this was going? It just fits for us.
“We?” Bry’s surprised tone has me stopping short. Do they not see my interest in her like I see theirs?
“Yes, we…why is that such a shock? Surely you remember my friend Felix and his life choices? It could work for us too.”
I turn to glance between Bry and Nate, wondering why they seem so thrown off at my suggestion when they’ve met Felix a few times.
We became friends at university. He lived in the same building complex as us, but he lived with a friend he’d grown up with.
They had a different relationship and preferred to share a woman between them.
He ended up moving away, so we don’t see each other often, but we still keep in contact.
“I guess…but you and Rosy? I didn’t really see it. You’ve mainly dated other teachers,” Bry mentions, and his pale brows inch up his forehead.
“Yeah, the strict, boring types.” Max adds, pulling a sour face like a twelve-year-old.
I inhale deeply through my nose, then let the exhale out slowly.
“Admittedly, teachers have been who I’ve mainly dated in the past. Perhaps because it’s easier; we understood each other’s workloads and frustrations.
I can’t deny it’s simpler than trying to date online or organically.
But it might also be the reason why they haven’t worked out.
Rosy has a vulnerability and kindness that pulls at me.
She’s so soft, but she’s also stronger than she realises.
So like Bry said, unless she tells me she’s not interested, then I’m going to continue getting to know her and hope she feels something for me too. ”
Nate’s fists are furling and unfurling while his teeth grind in his obvious displeasure.
There’s no part of me that wants to hurt him, but I’m also very aware that life’s too short to not take this chance with Rosy.
My parents had a love that you could feel being around them; just a look between them had a warmth surrounding anyone close by.
It gave me high expectations for love, because if I can’t share that feeling with someone, then what’s the point?
Rosy, she…she radiates her own warmth, and I want to bask in it beside her, together. If she lets me, I think it could really be something special, something unstoppable.
“Wait, let me get this straight…all three of you want to date Rosy?” Max questions, his mouth in a wide, open grin as he points between us.
“No, just me,” Nate grits out, folding his arms across his chest defiantly.
Choosing to ignore his comment, I turn to Max. “I think she’d be good for you too.”
He doesn’t take my suggestion well. His face shuts down, all humour disappearing as he swallows loudly. “Fuck no. You can all do what you want, but I’m not in this. Flirty best friends only.”
As much as I want to push it further, I know it’s best not to for now. With Max, the more you push something, the more he’ll go in the opposite direction. Dealing with something head on is not a strength of his.
Bry clasps his hands together tightly, then looks up at Nate.
“I know none of this is what you want to hear, but Noah’s on the right track.
Rosy draws all of us in, and the pull is too strong for me to resist. Would I rather she just choose me?
In a way, yes. But why do we need to if we can all make her happy?
I really want this to work, Nate. For all of us.
We can talk through things, set boundaries that any of us aren’t comfortable with crossing.
But if she expresses any reciprocated feelings for any of us, do you really expect us to shut her down and ignore the urge to make her happy? ”
Nate might come across as surly and unapproachable, but when he cares, he cares hard.
Rosy just so happens to be one of those selected few.
Judging by the furrow in his brow and the glare trying to burn a hole through the floor, he’s pulled between the need to make her happy and the draconian drive to hoard her for himself.
There’s a part of me that worries he’s too hurt from his past to be able to pick the selfless option, but perhaps that makes me selfish. Because if he doesn’t, it would mean that none of this would work, and my chance of happiness with Rosy and my family is all but a fanciful dream.
Abruptly shoving to his feet, he stands, muscles tense.
“Fine. I don’t fucking like it, but Rosy comes first. Always.
But if any of you hurt her, I’ll rip your fucking arms off and replace them with your legs,” he declares, then storms off to his bedroom.
The door slams, followed by the sound of the lock sliding shut.
Bry scrubs his hands up and down his face. “He’s not felt the need to lock his door in a while. It doesn’t feel good to know we’ve triggered him.”
“I know. But we can give him the space to work through it and be here if he needs us.” I sigh, wishing we could just barge in there and reassure him that we aren’t removing Rosy from him, that he doesn’t have to check through all his keepsakes.
But in the years we’ve been friends, when he panics like this, the best thing to do is to just give him time to process and be here if he wants to talk. Most likely he won't.
“Are you sure all this is worth it? You might tear all this apart if it goes wrong,” Max presses, sounding unusually serious.
“Love is always worth it, and you can’t avoid fighting for something just because you’re scared it might go wrong or not work out,” I reply softly.
I really want him to understand how important this all is. We all deserve the chance to find that special someone who makes the hurdles in life that little bit more manageable, someone who will laugh and cry with you along the way.
Bry stands up, rolling up his sleeves with practised ease.
“I’m going to start cooking something. Rosy’s busy tonight, which is why I wanted the conversation initially, so it’s just us for dinner,” he finishes over his shoulder as he reaches the island counter and starts opening cupboards to pull out a few pans.
Max grabs the TV remote, turning it on and picking up the gaming controller. I reach over to the coffee table and retrieve the book I’ve started reading with Rosy.