Page 126 of Fool Me Twice

Hart’s forehead fell onto Cane’s shoulder, a groan leaving his lips as he listened to Black screaming bloody murder in front of his bedroom door.

He was surprised he hadn’t barged in.

Hart rolled his head just enough to glance over Cane’s shoulder, not ready to actually move yet and break the moment completely. He spotted the armchair that had been pushed toward the door. The one Cane had been sitting in when he’d first woken up.

On closer inspection, Hart saw that no, it hadn’t just been moved from its spot, it had been wedged under the doorknob completely.

He finally lifted his head, glancing at Cane’s smug face. “Did you barricade us in here?”

“Fuckers are pushy,” Cane said, zero regret in his voice. “They wouldn’t leave you alone until I threatened to end them one by one.”

Hart’s body filled with butterflies. Cane had been protecting him, in his own way. Giving him some breathing room, like he instinctively knew Hart would need it. The feeling of being understood was everything. Being cared for. A priority. He didn’t know why he’d fought it for so long, denying what would make him so happy and content.

If only that could extend to every facet of his life.

Hart closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steel himself for the conversation he wasn’t sure he wanted to have. The conversation with Cane had been the hardest—grueling and raw and emotionally draining—but the one ahead with his brothers was the scariest.

The things he’d said echoed in his head. The things they’d said to him, while true, had cut deep. And he had so much to say. So much he’d never told them. Years’ worth of emotional baggage they didn’t really deserve to shoulder.

He wasn’t sure he was ready.

He’d already decided to take the leap and flip his entire life. He didn’t know how much more upheaval his body could take, but he also didn’t want to hide anymore. The curse had put so much into perspective for him. What mattered versus what he had built up in his head.

He could still care for himself while caring for others.

He could be a little selfish now and then.

The world wouldn’t end if things got a little messy and disordered. (He’d work on that one.)

He was a boyfriend now. A partner.

He was one half of a whole for the first time in his life, with the only person he could ever think to complete that whole with. His mind needed time to adjust to that idea. To let go of the fears and the doubts and allow himself to just have that. To take for himself openly and without shame.

Being alone with Cane made that easy. There was never any reason for Hart to hide in front of him.

“Hellooooo!” Black called, banging some more.

But there was a world out there waiting for him.

There was a group of people out there who were a part of him too.

“I guess I have to face the music,” Hart said, slumping against Cane’s chest but being mindful of his injuries, letting him take some of his weight but not all. Mostly he craved the closeness.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” Cane said, cradling his head and running his fingers through his hair, something he rarely got to do with the way Hart styled it. It was so nice that Hart thought maybe he could ease up on the gel…slightly. Baby steps. “They can wait. I can take you away from here until you’re ready. Just say the word.”

The thing about Cane was that his word was as good as gold once given to you. He’d move the universe if Hart asked for it, and it was on the tip of his tongue to ask. The thought of being alone with Cane, truly alone, without the nagging feelings of guilt and regret nibbling at the corners of his mind was temptation itself.

He sighed. He needed to mend what he had broken. He wanted a fully fresh start. “I need to get dressed.”

“To talk to those assholes?” Cane asked, tightening his hold on him stubbornly. “I don’t think they’ll give a shit what you’re wearing.”

“I do!” Hart said primly, playing with the fabric of Cane’s shirt. “I just spent the last week running around in…”

“Casual separates?” Cane said.

Hart smiled a little, appreciating the attempt at levity, but he was still tender. The curse was still fresh. “Things that weren’t me. I wasn’t…”

He swallowed hard, trying to explain to Cane that it was important to him to be dressed like himself. To choose it. To go in front of his brothers looking like the person they’d grown up with and not the monster he’d been turned into.

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