“No. It’s…relationship related?”
My brother’s amber eyes grow wide. “Wait… are you dating Beau Whitaker? You guys were pretty damn flirty at the pool party.”
“Sort of. Yeah.”
I’m also sort of seeing your best friend. You know, the one who never dates…
Hail frowns. “Did he do something to hurt you?”
“No. No. It’s not like that.”
Hail rubs at the back of his neck as he processes this information. “Wow. Okay. A musician, huh?”
I wince, and Hail leans over to ruffle my hair. “Hey, I get it. Shit can be real fucking hard, but it’s worth it.”
God, I’m glad I cried out everything in my car or I’d be in tears again. The last thing my brother and his boyfriend need is to deal with a complete meltdown from me.
“Well, I’ll listen if you want to talk. Or if you just want to hang with us tonight, that’s cool, too.”
I squeeze the pillow tighter. “You really won’t mind if I crash for a while?”
“Z and I both want you here. He’s just as worried about you.”
I sigh. “He’s something, isn't he?”
“Yeah,” Hail agrees dreamily. “I’m kinda obsessed.”
I chew on my lip as I dredge up the things I should have told him almost a year ago. “Hail, I’m sorry I didn’t stick up for you at Thanksgiving.”
“Hey. It’s not your responsibility to protect me, sis. Anyway, you’re built sweeter like Z.”
“That doesn’t mean I should let mom and dad treat you like that.”
“They’re bigoted, narcissistic assholes.” Hail shrugs. “I may have made things worse by calling them out for not showing up to any of your graduations.”
I purse my lips. “They kind of suck, don’t they?”
“Real hard.”
The bedroom door in the short hallway off the living room opens, and Z walks out with his bangs tied up, revealing the full extent of his stunning features.
Hail leans closer to me and whispers, “Gonna ask him to marry me."
I hide my smile in the pillow. If that’s true, I’ll need to start thinking about wedding details. Hail’s organization skills stress me out in that they’re practically nonexistent. And I know for a fact my parents won’t be willing to help.
“Everything alright?” Z asks, his concerned gaze falling on me.
I nod. “All good.”
The rest of my emotional baggage can wait for later.
“So what movie do we wanna watch?” Hail pops up from the couch to rummage through the kitchen cabinets.
Readjusting on the couch, I watch him pull out a collection of junk food—boxes of every variety of M&M’s, popcorn, pretzels, and Cheetos.
“Does he ever eat anything other than carbs and sugar?” Z questions, positioning himself on the couch next to me so our knees touch.
“Hey, nothing else would keep in the house while I was on tour,” Hail complains.
