Chapter 9
Reeve
"So what's your deal? Are you single?" Jett asks out of nowhere over a breakfast of bacon, eggs, and pancakes Farrah prepared for us the next morning.
I take in the tranquil surroundings from the back porch, the tall trees still and peaceful, as I chew my toast. "Yep," I answer.
"Are you gay?"
"Jett, cool it," Wilkin hisses.
"You fucking cool it," Jett bites back.
I know it's wrong, possibly borderline psychotic of me, but I love witnessing this dynamic between them.
They're more than just a challenge, they're an intriguing mystery I can't wait to get to the bottom of.
Metaphorically and literally, because I'd be lying if I said the thought hadn't crossed my mind about fucking them both.
Ideally at the same time. But hey, I'd also like world peace, so I'm not getting too ahead of myself.
"I am gay," I reply to Jett's question. "Not that I've ever been in a relationship."
Wilkin coughs. Jett lifts his chin. "Never?"
"Nope."
"Why not?"
"Jett…" Wilkin warns.
"What?" he fires back. "Reeve's a big boy." He aims those pretty eyes at me. "You can tell me to mind my own business if you want to." Then he narrows them at Wilkin. "It's called open communication, and it's what adults do, thank you very much."
It's clear I'm missing the subtext, but I'll just add this to the list of things I want to find out about them.
"I don't mind talking about it," I say, mainly to placate Wilkin whose usual calm demeanor is already being tested, and it's not even seven.
"I guess it's my nomadic lifestyle. I'm away for months at a time, and I haven't found anyone who wants to give up a quote-unquote 'normal life' and join me in exploring the world. "
"Ah." Jett butters his toast. "So commitment issues then."
Wilkin's eyes are the size of golf balls, but he stays quiet.
I chuckle, enjoying Jett's forthrightness.
"I have no problem with commitment. It's more that I equate being in a relationship with having to compromise and not being able to do what you want to do.
Take Granny. I love her more than anyone in this world, but she married when she was sixteen, had kids, and that was her life.
No career. No independence. She doesn't even have a driver's license.
I don't want to be restricted like that. It's not for me."
"I can see that," Jett says, seemingly satisfied with my response.
"What about you both? Single, attached, rather not say?"
"Single," they reply at the same time, which draws frowns on both of their faces.
"Dating is hard in LA," Wilkin explains.
"Yeah," Jett concurs. "Impossible to find someone who isn't keeping one eye on potential future prospects. It sucks."
Wilkin nods. "You can say that again."
"Impossible to find someone who isn't keeping one eye on potential future prospects. It sucks."
Jett stares at Wilkin.
Wilkin stares right back.
Then turns to me, expression softening.
Then I look at Jett who's half-smiling at me, which elicits that semi-smug smile out of Wilkin.
It's awkward, but it's also not. I'm not sure they're even aware of it, but they did just technically agree about something. Is that a first for them?
As eager as I am to dig into their past, I'm also itching to do some hiking.
"Come on," I say, wiping the crumbs off my lap. "It's a beautiful day. Let's get out there and explore."