Garrison
“Jesus, what the fuck do you have in here?” Adam complains as he carries in one of Jameson’s boxes. I can’t believe he’s here with Zach and Travis to help my boyfriend move in.
I’m not going to lie, watching Jameson’s car leave my driveway the other day, to pour the foundation on a home that didn’t include me, about killed me.
But he came back that night and told me that he couldn’t do it. That he wanted me and this life, and this was his new dream.
Somehow, I knew we’d get here. I never stopped hoping. Although we did start out angry and then fell so fucking fast, I never doubted it. Not for a second.
He’s mine. And I’m his.
That’s all that matters to me. Not how we started but that we’re ending up together.
“It’s full of our sex toys,” I joke, and Adam shoots me an annoyed glare while Travis shakes his head and Jameson laughs.
“That’s too much information,” Adam grumbles, dropping the box down, and I wrap my arm around Jameson’s shoulders.
“Just kidding. That box is way too small to hold all of them.”
Jameson nudges me in the side, but then a loud rumble from our driveway catches everyone’s attention.
I’m beaming as I’m already walking toward the door. “Oakley’s here.” In that loud, fucking rust-bucket truck he loves so damn much. I can’t believe it made the two-hour drive.
“You didn’t tell me I was going to have to deal with that meathead,” Travis says in annoyance to Jameson.
Jameson shrugs. “He kind of comes with all this.” Bates motions around the house.
I don’t argue because Oakley is my best friend.
We’re a package deal. He’s even thinking about moving to Hayes, which will be really funny because Travis has taken a job with the same company where Jameson and I work.
Which is where Oakley will also be working if he does decide to move.
Not sure what the hell problem Travis has with Oakley, but they’re not friends—not even close.
Oakley busts through the door with a twelve-pack in one hand and grabs me, picking me up in celebration with his other arm. “This place is a shithole.”
“Shut the fuck up and put me down,” I say. I’m a big guy, and this fucker shouldn’t be able to pick me up. But he’s a little bigger and even more stubborn.
“Hands off,” Jameson says as I push away from Oakley and move into my man’s arms. “And this place is not a shithole.”
Oakley just laughs, looking around with pride in his eyes. “No, it’s really not. This is great.” He punches my arm. “I can’t believe you got yourself locked down though. You’re eighteen. We were supposed to go out and revel in all sorts of debauchery.”
I can feel Travis and Adam rolling their eyes from here. Zach stands in the corner, looking nervous as he watches all of us. Quiet kid, that one. “I can still be your wingman while you make it through the Hayes female population.”
“Those poor women,” Travis mumbles.
Oakley’s eyes meet his, mischief playing on his face. “Aw, Trav. Don’t you worry. I’ll save some of them for you.”
Travis isn’t out. I haven’t said a word, and I never will. That’s up to him. And honestly, I don’t even know if he’s gay or bi or how he identifies. I never asked Jameson because I know it’s not his story to tell.
Travis looks even more annoyed, his glare fixed on Oakley. But Jameson finally busts through the tension, suggesting we get started on dinner. We bought a new grill for the patio, and I’m ready to fire it up with steaks as a reward for everyone’s hard work.
The guys all agree, and when they bring in the last of the boxes, Jameson and I slip out to the backyard together.
He wraps his arms around my waist and looks so damn happy in this moment. The guarded guy who rarely smiled is now beaming.
“Thank you for moving here.” For choosing me.
“I love you. Thank you for waiting for me to pull my head out of my ass.”
“Always, Bates.”
“Get to grilling, Dixon.” He kisses my nose and smacks my ass, and I do just that.
Jameson Bates and I now officially live under the same roof.
I knew it’d work out.