Chapter 12
CHAPTER
TWELVE
KENNEDY
Working side by side with Wilde as he wordlessly walks me through how to descale and prepare the fish for cooking is awkward as fuck.
He grunts at me, I try not to glare at him, and the entire time, I’m overly aware of Ziggy sitting silently a few feet away while Hart and Hudson bicker between themselves like he’s not even there.
The least they could do is pretend to include him in the conversation.
All the way through cooking dinner, I’m on edge. It’s not the fun, relaxing dinner I thought it would be. I’m torn between assessing every interaction between Hudson and Wilde, and Ziggy.
And honestly, it’s mostly Ziggy. I should be more worried about my brother than I am, but I can’t get my eyes to focus anywhere but on my friend. He’s so … he’s just so …
I drop the cooking utensils so many times I worry if I’ve overdone it today, and when dinner is finally plated up, it’s a relief to finally sit down.
Ziggy’s in my usual camping chair, with Hart across from him and Wilde and Hudson testing the structural integrity of the third, so I grab the cooler, set it next to Ziggy, and sit on that instead.
His big eyes meet mine, and he pats the arm of the chair he’s on.
“I’m good,” I promise him. Considering I’m already thinking ahead for ways to have him stick around after dinner, there’s no way I’m letting him out of that chair. Besides, making sure he’s comfortable is more important to me than getting a numb ass.
“Does it taste okay?” I ask almost as soon as he’s put the first piece of fish into his mouth. “Do you like it?”
He chews for a second and swallows, and then a quizzical look crosses his face.
“The fish, is it …” I’m leaning forward, and it occurs a second too late that maybe I’m being too eager. “Good?” I finish, wishing I could swallow my words again.
His nod is small.
“I could grab some salt or pepper … we also have ketchup, if that’s your thing?”
Ziggy sets his hand on my thigh, which I didn’t even notice was bouncing anxiously, and his touch sends a bolt of want right to my cock. Jesus. I swallow tightly.
“It’s good,” he whispers.
Right. Space. Give him that so he can talk. Even though I know that’s how it works for him, it’s hard to remember when I’ve been so on edge all day. Ziggy is bringing out all these soft, protective feelings I really like, and it’s been a while since I had someone I enjoy spending time with.
“Sorry,” I say back, matching his volume. “Just wanted to make sure.”
“You made sure.”
It’s like my whole body swells at the sound of his voice. After yesterday, I’d hoped we’d turned a corner with communicating, but today, he’s barely said more than a few words. “Are you snarking me?”
He tries to hide his smile by having another bite. But I wait him out. “You deserved to be snarked at.”
“Oh, really.”
“You’re fussing over me.”
His words still don’t have much confidence behind them, but they seem to be coming easier. “Sorry that I care.”
“I like it … that you care.” His smile turns sly. “But I’m a grown-ass adult who will tell you if your fish is shit.”
I bark out a loud laugh before I can stop myself. It’s less from amusement and more because Ziggy caught me completely off guard.
“You choking?” Hart asks.
“I’m good. I’m good.”
“Great. But if you do start choking, do it silently. Some of us are trying to enjoy our dinner.”
I flip him off, and when I turn my dopey grin back on Ziggy, he’s glaring Hart’s way.
“He’s joking,” I assure him.
Ziggy doesn’t answer, just glares deeper.
“Hey …” This time, I tap his thigh to pull his attention back to me.
“If I can’t fuss over you, you can’t be all stabby over me.
” I’m saying it because I’m supposed to, but I can’t say I hate the way Ziggy is offended on my behalf.
It gives the impression he cares, and I’d almost forgotten what that’s like.
I’d almost forgotten about, well, all of this. Feeling that closeness to someone. That addictive want to be around them. Knowing that he makes me happy just by being here.
“You’ve barely spoken all day,” I point out. “Is it something that comes and goes?”
He nods.
“And it’s gone now?”
His laugh is quick and soft. “N-no. I … it’s harder. For me.”
“Do I make it hard?”
He shakes his head hard, eyes meeting mine. “You make it easy.”
Those four words, barely louder than a breath, bring my heart alive. All I’ve ever wanted was to make things easier for the people I care about, and when it comes to Ziggy, I haven’t even actively tried. I’ve only been myself.
Something that’s never been enough for anyone before.
He doesn’t know all the annoying, messed-up sides to me yet, so I know that will change eventually, but for now … well, for now, it feels really fucking amazing.
Ziggy sees me. And I hope he knows I need him to.
I’ve never had this kind of bone-deep friendship before, and I want to cling to it and refuse to let go.
But I won’t. Because that’s not a normal thing that friends do.
That reminder doesn’t stop me from pushing my luck though. “Want to make that trip into Wayward tomorrow? Look up solar things?” I’m holding my breath, waiting for an answer. The way I want him to say yes is gripping me, but I refuse to show it outwardly.
If Ziggy wants to spend time with me, he will.
If he doesn’t, well, I’ll just hole up in bed for the next week and cry about what a failure of a human I am.
His pretty lips pull up in the corners, and it’s impossible not to watch them. “Okay.”
I exhale. “Okay.”