Page 22 of Sugar

Piper looked startled. “My brother. Sorry, I didn’t realize I never told you his name.” He shoved his arm under the table and came back up with his phone. Tapping on the screen a few times, he passed it over, and Juno looked down at the older version of the boy he’d seen in Piper’s photos. “This is him now.”

There were strong genetic similarities—in the nose mostly, and the eyes, and the way their mouths turned down at the corners. Phoenix’s skin was naturally a darker tan, and he had freckles all over his face like someone had flicked a paintbrush along his cheeks. His eyes were bright and inquisitive, and his hair was very dark.

“Most people think he’s my kid. He was the oops baby,” Piper said with a small smile. “My parents were pretty disconnected by the time he reached his formative years, so I took over, and they willingly let me.”

“So he just moved in with you?”

“Yeah. They decided to move to El Golfo, Mexico, and he had no interested in going. My dad came into a little bit of cash, so he invested in property. They built some cabanas and run a little resort there. Phoenix was twelve.”

Juno blew out a hard puff of air. “Seriously? God, what is with parents just dropping their fucking kids like we don’t matter?” His whole body was alight with frustration, bordering on rage. “They’re the ones who made us, and they don’t think twice about making us someone else’s responsibility?”

He stopped when Piper reached out and took his hand, rubbing his thumb against the inside of his wrist. “It sucked, but I didn’t mind. I was in postgrad school, and Nix was really self-sufficient. He stayed with my aunt whenever I’d have to go up”—Piper gestured toward the sky—“but it could have been worse.”

Juno realized he couldn’t project his own pain all over someone else’s history. “Sorry. It’s…a tough subject for me.”

Piper kissed his palm, letting his lips linger there until Juno’s breathing was even again. “Nix resents our parents for their selfishness, and I resent them for making him feel like shit. But they had already done a crappy job with him. At least I could take over and let him live a life where he could both be himself and be happy.”

Juno curled into himself a little. A small part of him didn’t care if his parents would have done the worst job in the world so long as they’d actually tried. But he also knew that wasn’t fair. And that he wouldn’t feel the same way if those had been his circumstances.

“I’m sorry if I’ve upset you,” Piper said.

Juno shook his head. “You didn’t.” It wasn’t quite the truth, but it also wasn’t a lie. Juno was shouldering a lot, so even the small things felt like the world on Atlas’s shoulders. “Can we go home?”

Piper nodded, then stood and extended his hand. It felt good to take it, to hold it. To keep Piper close. For the first time in a long, long while, he didn’t feel so alone.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Life had to resume some sort of normalcy before their trip, and it did. Piper went back to work, and Juno opened the bakery up again, then turned in his notice to vacate to the rental agency. They talked every day they shared a shift, and they texted on nights they didn’t. Piper tentatively asked Juno when he wanted to travel, and Juno told him sometime after his lease was up.

And that was that.

Weeks passed—which turned into a month. Piper was on edge because he knew they were racing against a clock that had invisible numbers, but he wasn’t going to push either. If all Juno wanted to do was make a list, he’d support him.

It was all he could do.

Kicking his feet up on his coffee table, Piper wished Juno had accepted his invitation to come over, but he was out of town visiting his friend, and Piper wasn’t going to stand in his way. He’d had another doctor visit, and he didn’t think things went well, though Juno said he’d talk about it when he got back.

They exchanged a few texts, and then Piper took his three days off to himself and bought a crochet kit from the bookshop craft section, which he hoped would keep him from going down internet rabbit holes. He had a veritable encyclopedia of information saved in his bookmark tabs that told him how to support a person losing their vision, but each and every one started with “let the person tell you what they need.”

Apart from a few orgasms and some burritos, Juno hadn’t really asked for anything. Piper could tell he wanted more, but he knew getting him to ask for it would be like getting blood from a stone. Juno was used to giving everyone what they wanted without considering himself. Maybe in some recovery from that, but he hadn’t learned to put himself first entirely yet, and Piper could only hope he’d start feeling safe enough to trust him.

To lean on him.

To want a little more than what Piper offered.

Rubbing a hand down his face, he reached for his crochet kit when his phone began to chime with a video call. He didn’t need to look at the screen icon to know it was his brother. He picked up, unable to help his grin. It was odd not seeing Nix every day, and while he enjoyed the freedom of knowing that Nix was taking care of himself and being loved as fiercely as he deserved, he still felt out to sea.

“You look happy.”

Piper laughed. “Yeah? Because I’m getting ready to teach myself crochet, and I don’t feel very happy.”

Nix wrinkled his nose. “What for? You’re not that old.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s better to learn before the arthritis kicks in,” Piper said. He propped his phone up on his knee as he sat back. “You look good. How are things in California?”

“Hot,” Nix said with a grimace. “A different kind of hot. I don’t know if I like it.”

“Mads getting by okay?”

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