Page 27 of When I'm Gone

The one thing that has not changed throughout his round-the-world travels in my bed is that Easton absolutely must be touching me at all times. Every time he nuzzles deeper into my chest, he makes this little happy noise; a kindof hum and a breathy sigh that I’m rapidly becoming addicted to.

The outside world doesn’t exist when he’s in this bed, finding comfort in my arms. I haven’t even cared to check my phone. Life is continuing on while I’m watching this clock on the wall begging for time to stand still.

My dynamic with Easton is becoming very powerful; fast enough that my head is still spinning trying to catch up but there’s no way I can slow it down or put a stop to it now. Something bone-deep is motivating me, some intrinsic force well beyond my control.

I may not have the people skills to properly dissect the whys of me being so drawn to Easton or to know how to make this easier on him or Brady, but I’m pretty damn good at feeling the room out. Logan tells me all the time that she sees a lot of me in Sage, and until Easton got here, I thought she was making it up.

My niece is already the kindest soul on the planet who easily seeks out the person in most need of joy and tries to make them happy. She finds the lonely kid at the playground and makes friends with them, or trades giggles in a restaurant with the stressed out server. Logan says it comes from me. My siblings are much more outgoing and likely to light up the room with colorful stories but apparently the individualized care is more my thing. I thought she was just being a good sister and talking me up, but maybe she was onto something.

Granted, this thing with my best friend’s brother goes well beyond what I normally would do for someone, but Easton has always been a part of my friendship with Brady. Even if it was just pictures he’d show me or stories he’d tell about his favorite person. Losing him left us with a gaping wound. It was a palpable thing; it tried to heal, but at the slightest prodding would reopen and bleed again and again. Iknow if Brady was seeing the things that I am, he would understand why I’m being so protective of him. Easton’s emotions are a summer thunderstorm right now. They come out unexpectedly, seemingly out of nowhere, and are so powerful that they can halt you in your tracks.

But what Brady is missing is that they clear up just as fast as they came in, and the sunshine afterwards is something to behold.

It’s not my story to tell, and betraying Easton’s fragile trust by going behind his back and trying to explain things to his brother is quite simply not an option.

But alas, my time to poke at this whole ordeal has run out. I rub Easton’s back encouragingly. “Time to wake up, sweetheart. I let you sleep as long as I could.”

He grumbles and groans a little but those pretty ocean eyes peek out at me. “Good morning,” he mumbles.

“Morning, Chaos. How’d you sleep?”

He sits up, stretching like a cat and revealing the slightest teasing line of pale skin at the bottom of his shirt, making my mouth dry out. “So good. I’m going to mess up and get used to sleeping this much and end up miserable when I have a whole bed to myself again.”

“Is that why you’re having trouble?”

He regards me carefully, eyebrows slightly and nose scrunched up. “Um. Not quite how you think, but kind of.”

I’d call that a non-answer but he seems to be making an effort, so I might as well see how far he wants to go with it. “What about having a warm body next to you makes it easier?”

Easton cocks his head, platinum hair flopping over to one side. “Not a warm body,” he corrects solemnly. “You.”

How can one word change so much? Validate my efforts, soothe my doubts all in one breath. “Me?” It’s almost too good to be true. I don’t know why it feels like the ultimatecompliment but it’s about to have pure sunlight pouring out of my chest.

He leans back and crosses his legs, one balanced against my hip. Seems the contact rule extends to when he’s awake too. “Can I tell you something?”

“Anything.”

Easton’s lips purse, like he’s choosing each word carefully. “I got really used to this slimy feeling. It was always kind of there, sometimes worse than others. But it always feels like it’s choking me.” He grimaces, making me lace my fingers together over my chest so I don’t reach out for him. “It makes it hard to do the most basic things like eating or sleeping—hell, even breathing sometimes. It settles at the bottom of my lungs and stomach and makes me feel so awful. I thought it was normal, maybe it is, I really don’t know. But it goes away when you’re around. You make it better, especially at night. I’m not good at a lot of things, but I know a good thing when I see it.” He smiles shyly, making his dimple pop out. “You’re my good thing.”

I no longer identify as living. My heart no longer lives in my chest cavity, it’s laying at his feet. And here I thought that was a cheesy expression reserved for Jane Austen novels. I have to blink a few times and swallow roughly before I can say anything around the lump in my throat. “Fuck, come here,” I rasp, sitting up and pulling him into a fierce hug. “You can’t just say something like that.”

“Why not?” is his muffled reply through a mouthful of my shirt.

My thumb traces the silky short hairs at the base of his skull. “Because you’re too fucking perfect, Chaos. Where the hell have you been?”

The question was meant to be rhetorical, more a sigh of longing than anything. I’m surprised when he answers. “Searching for a sign.”

I pull back. “I’m glad you found it.”

He nods. “Me too. We’re not going to be late for our flight, are we?”

My phone is on the nightstand so I shrug and grab it. Eh, not great. “We’ll make it. Might need to hurry a bit though.”

Easton slinks off my bed, and hurries off to pack and get dressed. There’s a text from Brady I was ignoring until I was alone and now seems like as good a time as any.

Brady: Maybe it’s unfair of me but I just wish you were on my side. You know what losing him did to me, and now I’m having to watch my best friend referee my reunion. He’s my brother, Ace.

I sigh as my fingers start flying. I don’t think he’s being unfair at all, quite the opposite; he’s being pretty diplomatic, all things considered. But I did the right thing for Easton yesterday and what he said reaffirms it.

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