Nathaniel
“AND WHAT WILL YOU do for work, honey?” Landon’s mom asks, her voice a little muffled through their FaceTime call as if she’s covering the speaker with her thumb.
“Uh, nothing for now,” Landon replies, and I catch the weariness in his voice as he unpacks his last box, breaking it down and setting it by the front door.
I watch from where I’m lounging on the couch, my eyes tracing his every movement. And not just because he looks fucking dashing in those low-hanging sweatpants of his, but because giving his family a house tour seems to have him on edge.
“You’re never going to put that degree to good use, are you?” his dad jokes, and I trace the blush that spreads from his cheeks, down his throat, and onto the smooth planes of his exposed chest.
Landon doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he stands perfectly still before the front door and stares blankly ahead. His brain is doing that thing again—the one in which one singular thought spirals him into a self-degrading hole of misery.
“He’ll use it if he wants,” I interject, loud enough to be heard but calm enough to leave no room for argument. “For now, he’s taken care of. It’s not an issue.”
Landon has always been taken care of. In fact, I believe the only work he’s ever been forced to do is that time he briefly worked at a Burger King with Julian. And I think some of that definitely affects his ‘I want my family to be proud of me’ desperation.
A part of me wants to leave him be, letting him struggle this out alone.
He’s turning twenty-three at the end of this year, and he needs to learn how to handle hard shit on his own.
But the other part of me? That piece that holds him together at night when he wakes up crying or fighting against an imaginary force?
That part of me wants to snatch his phone up and tell his parents to just say it. To say they love him, even if he’s not cut out to be a working man.
Luckily, I’m not forced to decide between tough love and love love, because his father says, “Thanks for showing us your new place, Lan. It’s great. And I’m proud of you for finally standing up for yourself and telling us what you want.”
Landon’s entire body deflates, a look of complete and utter shock coating his features. “Y-you’re… proud of me?”
I can’t help it: I’m grinning. He sounds so awed and so fucking happy that I want to cheer for him.
“Of course, Lan,” his mother cuts in. “You’re smart, funny, and even if you don’t intend to use it, you furthered your education. That’s all good parents can ask for.”
He slides down the door, landing firmly against the carpet as his knees draw in. And then, as if I’ve filled the entire room with those stars of his, he smiles so brightly it lights up the entire space.
“Thank you,” Landon whispers, and I tune out the rest of their conversation as I stare at his face, his beautiful smile, and the way his fingers are trembling around the phone.
Just taking him in.
A bit later, he’s tossing his phone to the side. Vibrant green eyes meet mine, and for a moment, we just stare at each other. His expression is screaming at me, filling me in on all the little thoughts twirling through his head.
Landon is undeniably, incredibly happy.
“You heard that, right?” he murmurs, standing shakily before he walks toward me.
“I heard it, babydoll,” I assure him.
Collapsing onto the other side of the couch, he swings his legs up into my lap, sighing blissfully. “My parents are nice, don’t get me wrong. But they don’t normally… I don’t get that often. I feel…”
He can’t find the words, so I do what any good boyfriend would and offer, “Complete?”
Landon grins, resting the side of his face against the back of the couch as he gives me a little nod. And damn, as if being someone’s boyfriend isn’t already weird enough, what I’m feeling now is the cherry on top.
I am so in love, so insanely content, that nothing in this whole universe could bring me down.
“Also,” Landon begins, his smile faltering. “I may or may not have invited some guests over.”
I can’t fucking stand Landon. He just has to ruin this perfect moment, doesn’t he? I have so been brought down.
“What guests?” I sneer, narrowing my eyes as I grip his ankle tightly.
He just grins, shrugging his shoulders. “Well, obviously the boys. Oh, and Susie. Her plane will get here later this evening, but she’ll spend the night at Chastain so she can spend some time with Julian and Atlas.”
He has this entire day planned out and never thought to include me in the decision-making. The urge to lean forward and slap the side of his head is so prominent that I have to squeeze his ankle even tighter to resist.
Landon rolls his eyes. “Don’t be a baby. Do you truly think Julian wouldn’t have barged in here on his own, knowing I live here now? And Susie’s been hounding me for days, asking where I am and what I’m up to.”
He has a point. All four of those boys are very persistent, and Susie does deserve some answers. I just wish all of this wasn’t at my expense. I had… plans for our evening.
And Landon must see it in my expression, because he smirks, adding, “Don’t worry, old man. We still have all night to be alone together.”
“I want to kick your ass so badly right now,” I admit, and he laughs, turning those vibrant green eyes toward the front-facing window as headlights light up the room.
“Well, you’ll have to postpone my beating, because I think Julian just arrived.”
It is not just the boys who arrive. As Julian, Atlas, Cameron, and Atticus file in through the front door, Abraham, Theodora, Abigail, and Jeremy filter in too.
“Master Abraham,” I greet, standing from the couch as I extend a hand to him. “I wasn’t aware you were coming.”
“They weren’t originally,” Atlas says. “But they saw us leaving and couldn’t resist.”
“I wanted to see your home, Barfred,” Abigail explains, and her green eyes brighten with delight as she peers around the small space.
Abraham laughs, loud and hearty, before his warm gaze collides with mine. He takes my hand in his. “How could I resist, knowing you’d finally decided to settle down?”
He’s seen so many years of my life as I worked beneath him, so it should be no shock that he’s invested in what I do and my happiness. But it still feels… odd.
“Well, thanks for coming,” I respond quietly.
“And with a younger man, at that,” Theodora adds, shaking her head as she smiles at Landon.
“Uh, yeah.” My eyes nervously dart between them. “It’s not in a weird way. It just… it happened that…Well—”
Abraham comes to my fumbling rescue just as Landon starts to snicker from somewhere beside me. “Don’t fret, Barfred. I don’t care who you date, as long as it’s not one of my sons.”
My body tenses. Does he think that I’m a bad partner? Does he find me displeasing or upsetting? The idea that Abraham thinks I’m not good enough for one of his children makes me antsy, if not a bit hurt.
But he seems to read this on my face, just as Landon can read me, because his grip tightens on my hand. “I only mean that it’s not suitable for a family to fraternize in that way.”
“Family?” I repeat, and I can hear my own shock. My own disbelief.
Sure, I’ve considered the Chastains my family for a long time now, but I didn’t think they felt the same way. I’m just… I’m just the cook. If you ask Landon, I’m merely their servant, nothing more.
Movement beside me catches my attention, and a moment later, Landon is squeezing my bicep as if he’s acknowledging my internal meltdown.
“Yes, family,” Theodora offers with a smile. “You’ve been family for a long time now, haven’t you? Don’t tell me you haven’t thought kindly of us after all this time.”
“No, I have!” I insist. “I just didn’t think that you all… well, that you thought the same.”
Suddenly, I feel like an insecure teenager standing before them.
“We do,” Abraham says. “Even Julian and Jeremy are family to us. Oscar as well.”
“And we care about you, too,” Julian interjects.
“I think I would rather my Julie be with an older man than have jumped from a cliff to his death,” Jeremy adds, but he’s grinning at his son and Atlas as he says it.
A few chuckles fill the room as Landon says, “You know, I feel like I’m the only one who isn’t aware of why that had to happen. But that’s fine, as long as everyone can acknowledge how mistreated I am.”
I resist the urge to mention that Abigail also has no clue about either incubus this family has encountered, just as Julian rolls his eyes, approaches Landon, and puts him in a headlock. I watch the two of them struggle, smiling despite myself. Landon just looks so fucking happy.
“Alright,” Atlas beams, “give us a tour! Then we’re going to dinner!”
“Dinner?” Atticus repeats, his eyes widening. “Atty, I am not spending the entire afternoon with this lot.”
“Come on, now, son,” Abraham chastises. “You can spend time with your sweetheart later. He lives with us, after all.”
Cameron blushes straight down to his toes, leaning further into his boyfriend as Atticus huffs and gives his father a dutiful nod.
I think that since his exorcism, the boy has gotten sassier. Can you believe it?
“Besides, we haven’t gone out for dinner in so long,” Theodora adds.
“Let’s go somewhere fancy,” Abigail pleads, scurrying over to where Julain still stands next to Landon and taking his hand.
Julian bends over, picking her up with one smooth motion as he says, “I vote Checkers. Could you imagine everyone’s faces when they see all of us show up?”
“Could I invite Cas, then?” Cameron asks quietly, and Atticus gives him a stern nod, watching as Cameron slips out the front door to most likely give this Cas a call.
As it turns out, my evening will feel longer than I intended. I think I’m with Atticus on this one: I do not want to spend my day with this lot.
Not that I don’t appreciate them—I do—especially now that the piece of me that has been empty since I fell out with my family suddenly feels full—but I had plans, damnit.
But I watch silently as Landon gives the group a tour, and then I grab my jacket once they’re ready to leave.