Page 28 of When I'm Gone

Me: I am ALWAYS on your side, Bray. Forever. Full stop. There are things going on behind the scenes here that you’re missing, so I’m only trying to do the right thing by both of you. There’s no how-to guide for this. But there are no sides to it, just two people with a lot to get through. I’m sorry that my actions caused you pain, I never wanted that. Come see us off. Tell Easton you love him and remind him you’ll still be here when he gets back. It may not help, but it might.

See? I can be diplomatic too. I’m trying to be Switzerland here, I really want them to work through this, but there’s a damn ear worm that will not stop insisting that it’s more important for Easton to have a safe place to land.

I’ve gotten no less than five texts from my mom about our arrival, like does Easton like chocolate chip cookies or snickerdoodles, and the classic mom snooping of how many beds should I make up. I love her so much, I really do. She’s quirky and creative, fiercely passionate about both her familyand her career. But holy fuck, is she nosy. No detail is too much for her. I learned that the hard way when I overheard the sordid tale of my niece’s conception while I was in the shower.

Please, Chase. I just need to touch up my makeup, I swear I won’t even be five minutes.Yeah, right. Until Mom came in and then it was,I’ll take things I didn’t need to know about my sister for a thousand, Alex.Even the memory makes me shudder in horror.

So, she might be a little much sometimes, but I wouldn’t change her for all the money in the world. I send off a quickI love you, I’ll see you soonsince I waited long enough to text her back that she answered her own questions, and it’s mostly just excited nervous energy on her part.

Packing is quick, we won’t be gone long enough for me to really care what I bring, anyway. Once I’ve got what I need and am dressed, I head to the kitchen to heat up the leftovers. What Easton said earlier is stuck in my head, and while I hope he gets to where the day-to-day stuff is easier on him, he really couldn’t find a better place to be staying when he has trouble remembering to eat.

The fact that my mom used to have to do that for me because I’d get distracted with a book or video game for hours at a time is not lost on me.

Either you never grow up or live long enough to see yourself become your parents, or whatever the dark knight said. Twenty-four seems a little young for all that, but if Easton is eating, then I’m a happy man.

Just as the microwave announces the second plate being done, Easton wanders in looking mouthwatering in a tight pair of dark jeans and graphic T-shirt that’s thin enough to show skin. He shoots me a quick, but beautiful, smile and thanks me when I hand over his food before settling on the barstool I’m rapidly starting to consider is his.

“What is this?” he asks, running his fingertip along the grain of the countertop. “It’s so pretty.”

“Labradorite,” I answer automatically. “It was the only one that wasn’t boring.”

Easton’s eyes widen around a mouthful of lo mein. “You picked it out?”

“Yeah. Hell, Brady and I installed it. We refinished and painted all the cabinets, put up the backsplash, and did the counters.”

He takes another bite, looking around with a curious look on his face like he finally is absorbing the space. After a few moments, he speaks. “It’s incredible. I didn’t know that y’all did all this by yourselves.”

I shrug. “It turned out okay.”

The corner of his mouth turns up. “Watch out, an ego that size will make it hard to go through doorways.”

“Such a brat.” A knock on the front door has both of us looking up. Easton’s whole body tenses. “It’s probably just your brother,” I add in as much of a reassuring tone as I can manage. Not that it helps him all that much. “Are you okay if I let him in? I know he’ll want to talk to you but you guys can do it on the porch if that makes you more comfortable.”

He gapes at me. “It’s… my choice?” He asks like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.

“Yes, Chaos. As long as you’re here, it’s your home too, and I will not let him in if you say no.”

He considers it for a minute, nose full-on bunny scrunched. “He can come in.”

As you wish, my dear.I brush past him on my way to answer the door, making my nerve endings light up. Easton sucks in a sharp breath. Then Brady knocks again, and whatever it was is over. He’s pacing when I open the door, hair tousled with his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

Have I mentioned I hate that he’s feeling like this? Guiltsits like lead behind my ribs. His attention snaps to me, features set in a mask designed not to reveal anything. “Hey, man,” I mumble lamely.

“Hey.” Brady rolls his shoulder back, as if he needs strength to get the next words out. “Can I come in?”

Not even a week ago, he wouldn’t have ever knocked or asked to come in. He’s walked in on me in all stages of undress, interrupted four different hookups, and never once have either of us felt like we were lacking boundaries. It was just Brady.

Now, I step aside with my throat tight and choke out a barely audible, “Yeah, for sure.” Easton is rigid when we make it back to the kitchen, back as straight as a steel rod. He’s not facing us as he rinses off the dishes we just ate on, but the second he hears our approaching footsteps, he gets impossibly more tense.

“Hey, Eas,” Brady tries.

Nothing. Crickets. Brady waits for one minute then two. After three, he goes for the second attempt. “Are you excited to go to Chicago?” He waits for a few moments then barrels on. “Chase’s family is awesome. They’ll be so excited to meet you. You’re going to have the best time.”

I wonder how long I can stand here and count the tiles on the backsplash above my stove before one of them figures out I’d rather be getting a root canal. They’re pretty tiny, so I’m only up to thirty-four, but I’m just trucking along.

This is so fucking uncomfortable.

So persistent, my friend is. “I wanted to stop by before you leave and tell you I hope you have a good trip and all that.”

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