Chapter 2 #2
I push my hand through my hair. “And he’s looking for a roommate?”
He shrugs, but it’s loaded. He chews the corner of his lip as he stares out the window. “I mentioned it. He said I could bring it up with you.”
Not exactly an answer. But Aiden’s tone has weight to it.
I squint. “Okay… it sounds like there’s a second half to that.”
Aiden doesn’t deny it. Just stares into his coffee. Finally, he admits, “It’s not just about the room. He… he could use someone around. Gabe keeps to himself. Too much these days.”
The way he says it makes it clear this isn’t Gabe’s idea. It’s his. Aiden wants eyes on his brother.
“Gabe’s an adult. He doesn’t need babysitting,” I say carefully.
“No,” Aiden agrees. Then he looks up. “But he needs someone in his corner. Even if he won’t admit it.” His thumb runs over the seam of his cup. “Remember that dick he was dating, Kyle?”
“Yeah…” I say warily. I’d never met the guy; they started dating after I moved away, but Aiden grew to dislike him as time went on. Thought they were a bad match, and Gabe rarely spoke about him, even less after his parents passed. The guy didn’t even come to their funeral, which I found strange.
“Well,” Aiden exhales. “They broke up last year.”
Something shifts in his voice. I don’t like the tone he’s using at all. “Okay…” I say, bracing.
He glances up, meets my eyes for a second, then looks away. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think it was my place to say, but… It ended badly. I’m not entirely sure what happened, but Gabe was in a bad way when he showed up at my place in the middle of the night.”
What does that mean, a bad way? I grip my cup harder, my jaw tightening.
“He’d taken a bus back from Portland with a bag of his things,” he grunts, shaking his head, continuing quietly, “I took care of him, did what I could to calm him down. He never explained. Said he left Kyle, and that was it. He’s never wanted to speak about it.”
I stare at him, waiting, because I know there’s more.
Aiden scrubs a hand down his face, voice rough.
“He’s been different since. Quieter than he ever was.
Jumps at loud noises, at unexpected touches.
He keeps everyone at arm’s length, even me sometimes.
It’s like he’s… disappearing in front of my eyes.
” He closes his eyes, then whispers so quietly, I don’t think he meant me to hear it, “Every time I see that fucking scar…”
There’s a sharp pressure in my chest, like someone’s reached in and twisted. A whole year, and I didn’t know any of this. Guilt claws up my throat. I should’ve been around. Should’ve visited more, should have reached out directly to Gabe, something.
Then that last word registers—scar. When I glance at Aiden, I see guilt in his eyes. We may be younger than Gabe, but Aiden has always been protective of him. It’s part of his nature to look out for people he loves. And Gabe… he was always so shy and sweet.
Rage prickles under my skin, burning deep. I can’t imagine ever laying a hand on someone, can’t imagine what kind of man would do something like that to anyone, let alone to Gabe. I put my coffee on the desk, squeeze my eyes shut, and take a deep breath.
“He won’t talk about it.” Aiden shakes his head, frustration bleeding through, the kind that comes from love.
“He’s not living. Just… surviving. Doesn’t see people as much.
Doesn’t do the things he used to love. Only leaves his place when he has to; running is the only exception.
He might go to his friend’s house or my apartment, but never just out.
The store’s the only place he can stand talking to people he doesn’t know. ”
He goes quiet, thumb dragging along his jaw.
Aiden doesn’t usually talk this much, he bottles his feelings up. Hearing him push through it tells me how worried he really is. He exhales, softer this time. “I think it’d be good for him. Having someone there. A friend. Someone we can both trust.”
I don’t answer right away. Just go back to the squat rack bolts, turning them one by one.
All I can picture is Gabe holed up in his apartment, moving through his days like a ghost. Gabe, who was always so lovely. Quiet. Gentle. The thought of someone dimming that…
I try to calm my racing thoughts. Aiden’s eyes meet mine, pleading. He wants a friend for his brother. Someone safe.
But the thing is… I’ve always been drawn to Gabe.
Even when I was younger, before I knew what to call it, my eyes always found him.
It wasn’t just that he was tall or handsome—though he is.
It was the little things. The way he’d make tea for his mom without being asked, place the newspaper by the armchair for his dad.
The way he’d leave Aiden’s favorite snack out on the counter for when we came back from practice.
The way he’d ask me about school and actually listen, like my answers mattered. How he’d sit and talk about books with me. He’s the reason I got into reading, initially for the excuse to sit and talk with him.
As I got older, that pull didn’t fade. It changed.
My eyes lingered too long, my thoughts strayed in ways I had no business letting them.
For years, I’d wondered if he could ever look at me a different way, ever be interested in me.
It was absurd; he never saw me like that, I was his little brother’s best friend.
And now here Aiden is, asking me to step closer to the one person I’ve been trying not to want for so long.
I drag a hand through my hair, trying to steady myself. “You’re serious about this?”
“Yeah.” His voice is stoic, but his eyes give him away—raw worry shining through.
On paper, it makes sense—walking distance to the gym, a way to stop bleeding money while we get Anchor Strength off the ground. That part’s easy.
The hard part is thinking of Gabe, of someone hurting him, of leaving him hiding from the world. I shouldn’t want to step in. But really, I do. Gabe’s private, though. Always has been, and if he’s become even more... What if moving in makes things worse for him?
I scrub both hands over my face.
Practical. Protective.
All tangled, all pointing the same direction. I try to shake the feeling, but it stays—quiet and constant, like a thread I’ve never been able to cut. A steady flame in a storm.
Why does the thought of sharing space with him feel less like a choice and more like the inevitable?
The longer I think about it, the more inescapable it feels.
Like no matter how far I’ve gone, some part of me has always been angled back toward him.
I rub my hand over the back of my neck, fingers grazing the tip of my tattoo again.
I glance at Aiden, still watching me, still waiting. I’m realizing how absurd it is that I’ve known Gabe for almost twenty years, and I don’t have his number. I clear my throat. “Text me his number?”
Something flickers across his face—relief, maybe. He nods and pulls out his phone.
I pick at the label on my cup, heart rate climbing. Moving in with Gabe isn’t just a place to stay. It’s walking into his quiet. His world.
And I want to.