Chapter 1 #2
The question earns me a grin. My brother is opening Anchor Strength with his best friend of almost twenty years, Noah.
He was practically one of the family growing up.
He moved to LA five years ago after college to gain some experience.
That, coupled with my brother becoming a father two years ago, paused their plans for a while, but they’re on track now.
Noah’s been back a few weeks, I haven’t seen him since he returned.
I actually haven’t seen him in over a year…
I haven’t seen much of anyone, really. I feel awful about avoiding him; while he was Aiden’s best friend, the three of us were close enough growing up.
I made sure I saw him when he visited from the city, if I could.
But after everything that happened, the fewer people who saw me and asked questions, the better.
“Yeah. Finishing touches are nearly done. Branding looks good. We’re finalizing class schedules.” His fingers tap a rhythm against the wood before his tone dips, the gesture too casual. “Noah’s still stuck at The Inn. Hasn’t been able to find somewhere yet.”
There’s a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I line up a stack of bookmarks, neatening the corners, and tap them three times on the counter.
“Mhm.”
Aiden exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “He really can’t afford it much longer. And he’s put nearly all his savings into the gym.”
My foot taps restlessly against the floor as my heart begins racing.
Please stop there.
Please don’t say it.
Please.
“You’ve got a spare room.”
I keep my eyes on the counter, resisting the urge to step back, to run and put space between us, as though I can get away from this conversation.
“Gabe.”
The sound of my name in his voice, almost pleading, cracks something in me. I swallow hard, throat dry. I can’t look at him right now.
“It would only be for a little while,” he adds. “A few months. Until the gym stabilizes.”
“Right.” My voice is thin.
“It could be a good thing…” He says slowly. “For both of you. He’s been away so long. I’m sure he’d be happy hanging out with someone he knows, you two always got along and… you’ve been spending too much time alone lately. Haven’t done much in the store since…”
Since I showed up at Aiden’s door with tears and blood streaming down my face in the middle of the night last year.
I wince at the memory and at his words. He doesn’t mean it unkindly—Aiden rarely says anything to hurt, never to me. He’s just blunt. But the truth still digs under my skin. My lip trembles, and I bite it to keep the emotions in.
I had such big plans for the store when I bought it three years ago. After our parents passed away abruptly in a car accident, I swore I’d use my inheritance to make them proud. I wanted to host events and make a safe space for the queer community here.
They wouldn’t be proud of how I’ve been living. I hosted a few events when I first took over, and they did really well, but that was before…
Events mean crowds. Crowds mean eyes and questions. So, I stopped.
“I can’t believe you bought that bookshop, it was bad enough when you worked there. What makes you think you can run a business? You’re so fucking stupid.”
That voice snakes into my mind. I push the memory away and force a deep breath.
“I don’t—” I start, then stop because I’m not really sure what to say. My fingers won’t stop shaking. I press them to the edge of the counter to still them.
It’s not that I don’t want to help. Of course I do. But the idea of someone else—a man I haven’t seen this last year—filling my space, makes my skin prickle with unease. Not because it’s Noah. Because it’s anyone. Because I don’t know how to trust anymore.
I used to be open. Always shy, yes, but I loved going out, meeting new people. Kyle stripped that out of me so slowly I didn’t even notice until it was gone.
I was a sketch he could erase and redraw until nothing of me was left but the lines he wanted. He made himself the only voice I listened to.
“I’m not saying you have to do this,” Aiden says softly, bringing me out of my thoughts. “You don’t, if you’re not up for it. But he really does need a place. And you…”
He trails off, the words hanging in the air.
And you could use someone looking out for you. I know my brother is worried about me, his concern rings through more and more as time goes on. Time moves on, but I don’t. I’m stuck. Caged by my own fears.
At twenty-nine, I shouldn’t need someone to look out for me, though.
“You know Noah’s a great guy, not loud,” he continues.
I finally look up at him and arch an eyebrow.
He snorts a laugh, the sound making me chuckle in response.
“Okay, he’s not as loud anymore. He’s grown up and settled down a lot over the years.
Surely you’ve seen that yourself. He’ll be easy to live with. ”
I have seen that, it’s just been so long now.
Aiden watches me fidget with the bookmarks, then says quietly, “He’s nothing like Kyle. Noah’s safe.”
The words lance through me. My chest squeezes so tight it hurts.
“No one’s safe,” I say, before I can stop myself. The words shrink to almost nothing by the time they leave me, barely more than a whisper. I regret them immediately, Aiden’s safe, Abbie, Ciarán. They’re my safe spaces.
And while Aiden’s right—Noah was always a great guy, kind and funny—people change with time. I learned that lesson the hard way.
Aiden flinches, but he doesn’t back off. His next words are soft but cutting. “This is my point. You shouldn’t think like that—like everyone outside your circle is a threat. You know Noah.”
“I’ve made the apartment mine,” I murmur. “I’m used to living alone now.”
I feel safe there. I can hide there.
“I get that.” He rubs the back of his neck, speaking gently. “But it’s not healthy to never let anyone in. And I don’t just mean into the apartment.”
I hate how much sense he’s making.
“You’ve been even quieter lately,” he continues. “Since Mom and Dad passed. Since you left him. It’s like you’re retreating more inside yourself. And I know you’re working through things, but… Gabe, you barely talk to anyone outside of customers and your friends.”
“I talk to people.” The protest slips out, petulant as my eyes sting.
Truth is, he’s right. Outside of my friends, the store is the only place I feel comfortable talking to people.
This is the one place I could always get away from Kyle.
We lived in Portland, and I did a huge commute daily to get here.
He never bothered to come see the store, see the business I was building here.
It hurt me at the time, but now I’m grateful.
These walls keep me safe, make me feel protected, in a way. It’s my space, and when I’m here, I feel braver.
“Oh yeah? Who?”
“To… Micah. And the new florist when he comes in.” A weak sigh escapes me. God, I really am pathetic.
Aiden purses his lips, clearly unimpressed. “Gabe, really, the guy who makes you tea and a florist who looks like he wants to vanish every time someone says hello? Come on.” He’s frustrated by this situation. The situation I keep making worse day by day.
A self-deprecating laugh slips free.
“I’ll think about it,” I whisper.
“Please do more than think.” He nudges my arm gently with his elbow. “Worst case, Noah says no. Best case? You have some extra money for that ridiculous tea subscription again.”
I scowl faintly. “I didn’t cancel it.” We both know that’s not true; it was expensive, and they sent me too many cinnamon-based blends.
“Liar.” He chuckles, eyes crinkling. I can’t help the soft laugh that leaves me in return.
The idea of Noah in my space—in the quiet sanctuary I’ve built after everything—feels like inviting fire into a room made of paper.
I always remember him as the boy who burned bright. Golden hair. Tanned skin. Always moving, always talking, grinning so wide it felt like he might split at the seams. Aiden’s shadow, dragging joy into every corner of our house, whether anyone asked for it or not.
But sometimes, I’d catch him when no one else was looking. Sitting at the edge of our porch steps, smile gone, shoulders slumped. Those moments never lasted long; the second someone walked by, the light would flick back on.
I knew his home life wasn’t great. And maybe that’s why he smiled so much—because it was easier than letting anyone see the cracks. I understood that. Hiding in plain sight. Pretending to be okay in the hopes that it’ll make it true.
Sometimes he looked so sad, my heart hurt for him.
It’s that final thought that makes me say, “Okay. Will you bring it up with him?” My voice shakes.
Aiden nods, not looking surprised. “Yeah. But if he says yes, you’ll have to actually talk to him. You know that, right?”
I let out a heavy sigh and roll my eyes exaggeratedly at him. “Yes, Aiden, I do know that. Why do you always sound so mature? It’s really annoying.”
He presses his lips together, hiding a laugh, then reaches out, making his intention clear before he gently squeezes my shoulder.
“Okay, I gotta run. I’ll see you later.”
“Sure, I’ll be over during the week. I miss my niece.”
He gives me a beaming smile; he’s such a softie for her. I still can’t believe my brother has a two-year-old. Fatherhood suits him more than I ever expected. How he is with Rose reminds me of our dad, so loving and protective, willing to be a goofball to make her smile.
I wave as he walks toward the door. “Bye.”
The morning fades into afternoon, the hours dissolving into routine. Customers come and go—I move through it all quietly, the way I always do.
By the time the sun sinks low, Evergreen Books has slipped into that golden hush I love best. Dust motes float lazily in the amber light. The new florist leaves, clutching another romance novel with a cover he blushed buying. “Bye, Luke,” I call out, and he gives me an awkward wave.
I flip the sign from Open to Closed, turn the music down, and for a moment, I stand there, staring at my space. Shelves full of colorful paperbacks, string lights in the nook toward the back, glowing faintly.
The quiet wraps around me like a shield and a restraint.
Safe. Suffocating.
I climb the narrow back stairs into my apartment, the conversation with Aiden still on my mind.
The thought of someone else here, filling the silences I’ve built into the walls…
Noah’s shoes by the door. His voice in the hallway.
His presence spilling into every corner.
It makes my breath grow heavier. What if he’s changed?
What if the boy with the bright smile and kind eyes is gone?
Tension creeps into my shoulders as my chest starts moving rapidly.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, startling me. The feeling of the vibration against my leg drags me back to myself. Relief hits when I see the group chat light up.
AA meetings (Anal & Angst)
Abbie: Gabe. I saw Aiden heading your way earlier. Blink twice if he recruited you into the gym cult and you need to be rescued.
Ciarán: I passed Daddy Shaw on the way out this morning. Can confirm: still grumpy as fuck.
Me: He asked if Noah could move in. Temporarily, until the gym settles.
Abbie: Oh shit, that’s big. How do you feel about it?
Ciarán: You know you don’t have to say yes if it makes you uncomfortable.
Me: I know. I told him he could mention it to Noah. It should be okay, we grew up together so I know him.
I used to, anyway.
Ciarán: I know you’ve mentioned him before but have we ever actually met this guy?
Ciarán: …also, if he’s hot and shirtless in your kitchen one morning, you legally have to send me a picture. Best friend rulebook.
Me: I’m rolling my eyes right now. I don’t think you have actually, he moved away after college. I usually only see him at Aiden’s when he visits.
Except I’ve avoided him this last year. I scrub a hand over my face before going back to the chat.
Me: He was at my parents’ funeral though. You probably saw him with Aiden.
Ciarán: Oh shit, blond hottie with the body of a Greek god?
Me: He’s blond, yeah. Don’t know about the hottie bit.
Ciarán: Gabe, you’re demi, not blind.
I snort into the empty apartment.
Abbie: Ciarán stop being a creep. We’re here for you Gabe. If it gets too much, or if you need a break. Or a taser. I’m not saying I have one in my purse. I’m also not saying I don’t…
Me: Thank you.
Ciarán: Yes, definitely here for you. And here for the hottie.
Abbie: Ciarán, never stop being you. But also, maybe stop being you a little bit right now.
I huff another laugh at how ridiculous they are, I’m so lucky I found them. The thought of not having them there when everything happened… It’s unbearable.
Abbie: Oh, we should do a housewarming! We can have wine. And tacos. And pepper spray. You’re covered.
Ciarán: Yes! We’ll be over during the week to check him out. When would be a good time to find him shirtless do you think?
Me: I’m blocking you.
I wait ten minutes, then send one more.
Me: I don’t know if he’s definitely moving in or when but come over Sunday morning. I’ll make pancakes either way.
I smile down at the screen, despite the knot still lodged behind my ribs. They always know how to find the exact thread to pull—the one that reminds me I’m not alone.
Even when I feel like I am.