Chapter 8
Max spotted the private jet and shrieked.
“Chill out,” Benji told him, even though he almost wanted to join in. His stomach was churning—part nerves, part excitement. It was getting a little easier to accept Noah’s lavish gifts. Especially if it was really for Max.
Noah slid an arm around Benji’s hip. “Sure, you don’t want me to carry that?”
Benji gripped his suitcase warily. “I’m fine, Prince Fucking Charming. I can carry my own bag.”
Prince Fucking Charming, Noah mouthed. He took Benji’s chin, keeping it gentle the way he always did around Max.
“Baby,” he said softly. “Do me a favor and give me the bag.”
Benji wanted to argue. But the nerves and excitement had combined into a riot of butterflies.
He had already turned down so many of Noah’s employees who wanted to carry his bag, but this was different.
Noah wasn’t doing it because he had to, or because he thought Benji couldn’t handle it.
He just liked making life easier for Benji.
The weirdo.
“Twist my arm,” Benji muttered. He handed the bag over, and Noah hauled it over his shoulder.
But before Benji could do something stupid and mushy, like kiss him in thanks, Max was there, throwing his bag at Noah distractedly.
“Thanks, Noah,” Max yelled, then went back to staring up at the private plane in awe, running around the wheels and asking random employees mechanic questions, which, judging by their blank expressions, nobody knew the answer to.
Noah caught the bag and laughed.
“Little shit,” Benji muttered, but was unable to hold back his own smile. It was good to see Max back to normal again.
“Keeping us on our toes,” Noah said.
Benji’s heart gave another stubborn squeeze. Us. Our toes. Like they were part of the same small, weird family.
Noah shrugged Max’s bag onto his shoulder next to Benji’s and held up a hand. “Max! Want to come back here? I have a surprise.”
Max ran back. “A surprise? What is it? Benji, what is it?”
“No idea,” Benji said, narrowing his eyes at Noah suspiciously. “You didn’t buy us the plane, right? What am I gonna do with a plane?”
“I didn’t buy you the plane,” Noah said soothingly.
“Maybe he brought us the airline,” Max said, his eyes huge.
Noah leaned past Benji to meet his eyes. “Did you want the airline?”
“No,” Benji barked before Max could say anything. “Max, quit jumping, you’re gonna trip over something, and we’ll have to use this fancy plane to fly to the ER and skip this whole—”
The jet door flew open.
Daphne stood in the doorway, decked out in bright blue eyeliner and the hairclips Benji got her for her nineteenth birthday.
“SURPRISEEEE,” she yelled.
Max yelped so loud it hurt Benji’s ears. He tugged Benji to follow him, and Benji stumbled forward, confused and grinning.
“Daph,” Benji said, running to meet her. “What are you doing here?”
“What does it look like? I’m coming on your trip!” Daphne pelted down the steps, and Benji and Max met her on the asphalt in a three-way hug.
Benji buried his face in her hair. She had been the first person outside of his family to hug him, and the first time she’d attempted it back in high school, he almost smacked her in surprise.
By the time Benji drew back, Max was already babbling.
“This is gonna be so cool,” Max yelled. “I have the pamphlet for the resort. Do you wanna see it?”
Daphne leaned down to watch Max dig it out of his pocket.
Benji walked back to Noah, dazed. “I thought this trip was for Max?”
“It is,” Noah said. “Look how happy he is.”
Max looked up from the resort pamphlet, still grinning. “Benji! Daphne’s coming!”
“I’m right here,” Benji pointed out, but Max was talking over him.
“We never get to hang out!”
Benji laughed. “She’s my friend, dude! She doesn’t want to hang out with a middle schooler!”
Daphne gasped, mock scandalized. “Benji! Me and Max used to hang out all the time! I basically lived at your house in senior year.”
This was true. When Aunt Nat got diagnosed as terminal, Daphne was over every other day to watch movies, or paint, or make something out of cardboard they dragged out of the school trash cans.
Of course, Max joined in, finger painting or cutting himself with scissors when the teens weren’t watching him.
He put together his first circuit board that year, sitting on the carpet with Daphne and Benji painting each other’s nails on the couch above him and Aunt Nat sleeping in the next room.
After Aunt Nat died, Daphne was over every day for months.
Dropping off food or trying to coax the boys into making some art (Benji) or doing something science-y (Max).
And one memorable time, even doing their laundry and a mountain of dishes.
“Yeah,” Max said. “Sorry, your friends think I’m cool, Benji.”
“She does not,” Benji said, but he couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice.
Max flipped him off joyously. Then he started up a secret handshake that Benji hadn’t seen for years, which Daphne completed with such glee that there was no need to fake it.
It was too cute. Benji dropped his head onto Noah’s shoulder, stifling his grin.
Noah stroked his hair. “What do you think? Good surprise?”
Benji lifted his head. He had to swallow twice before he could speak.
“It’s okay,” he said, strained.
It was too much. He shoved down the instinct to run and threw his arms around Noah instead, squeezing him so hard he wanted to be embarrassed. But it was hard to care about the employees waiting for them to board when Noah was holding him like this, so solid and comforting.
“So,” he heard Daphne ask. “Why a resort in Bali?”
“I’ll be totally honest,” he heard Max reply. “I Googled ‘super fancy expensive resorts,’ and this was the first thing that showed up.”
Benji hugged a champagne flute as they soared seamlessly through the sky.
He knew he should be staring out the window—he hadn’t been on a plane since he was in grade school, after all—or failing that, at the plush seats or the ice bucket of champagne or the fucking chandelier hanging from the ceiling.
But he couldn’t tear his eyes off Noah. Noah was sitting on the other side of the jet, losing a game of travel-sized chess to Max and having such a great time that Benji’s heart was doing somersaults.
Daphne sat down heavily in the seat across from him, startling him out of his staring.
“Even the bathrooms are huge,” she whispered, delighted.
Benji nodded, fighting the urge to turn back to Noah’s stupidly charming smile and attentive nodding.
Daphne’s lips pursed. She twisted to look at Noah. “He said he wanted all your people on this trip. Didn’t let me pay for anything.”
Benji swore, dropping his head in his hands. “Fuck. What am I gonna do, Daph?”
“I don’t know. Enjoy the free holiday?” Daphne’s smile dimmed. She leaned closer, flicking Benji’s hair out of his eyes like she used to do in freshman year, back when he spent his life looking out behind a sea of scraggly curls.
“What are you going to do?” she repeated. “Honestly? I say you marry him.”
Benji looked over, panicked. But Noah was still at the other end of the plane, nodding along as Max gestured wildly through another story about whatever crazy things his friends had done last week.
Benji lowered his voice. “Would you?”
“Yes,” Daphne said immediately. “Even if we got a divorce, it’s still a good move.”
Benji made a disgusted face against his champagne glass. The idea of Noah looking at him with coldness, let alone active loathing that he’d seen on so many divorced couples made him feel physically sick.
“I don’t want to do it for money,” he confessed. “Plus, I might not need to, if I actually get into the art world like Mrs. Presley is promising.”
Daphne squealed, only quieting when Benji shushed her.
“That’s insane,” she whispered gleefully. “I’m so excited for you! Everything’s coming up Benji!”
“Everything’s coming up Benji and Daphne,” he corrected. “I’m showing her your stuff as soon as you sign off on something.”
“Right! Great.” Daphne gnawed her lower lip, her blue eyelids fluttering nervously. “I just don’t want to overwhelm her, you know? And I want you to show her my best stuff. I’ll have something ready next year. Probably.”
Benji rolled his eyes fondly. He wanted to berate her for always pushing him forward, but now that she had the chance for him to help her up, she was getting cold feet. But then he caught sight of Noah laughing over her shoulder, and his gaze stuck.
Daphne turned again, smiling softly. She turned back and covered his hands, which were still clutching the champagne glass.
“Ben,” she said. “I know I’m all, like… practical and whatever, about this sugar baby stuff. But you guys were never typical sugar. You love each other, right?”
“I do,” Benji said slowly. “I just…”
He stared at Noah, trailing off. Noah was so sweet and strong and perfect. And he’d picked Benji—a surly twenty-year-old jackass with a kid brother in his custody and a string of shitty customer service jobs—to be with him, to move in with him, to grow old together if Benji let him.
The words burned behind Benji’s teeth. There is no way the universe will let me get something this good. I feel like if I say yes, something terrible will happen to even it out. I don’t get to have good things.
“I don’t want to think about it,” he said in a rush. He shook Daphne’s hands off and downed the rest of his champagne, shooting her a smile he refused to classify as anxious. “We’re on a private jet! I’m young, I’m apparently rich now, and I have a gorgeous boyfriend. You know what I’m gonna do?”
Daphne watched him stand up, grinning. “What are you gonna do, Ben?”
Benji shot her a wink. It did not go well, with both eyes closing in the process. But she got the gist.
“Distract Max,” he whispered.
Daphne’s grin widened. She stuck her tongue between her teeth and stood, sliding past him until she was kneeling next to Max, asking him to explain the types of clouds again.