Page 67 of Just Bromantically Invested

I wait for Seven to give in.

He doesn’t.

Molly’s gaze is pinging worryingly between them, and Jesus fucking shit, when did the morning take such a fast turn? Maybe I shouldn’t have ignored Xander when he brought up Gabe. Maybe I should have given him someone to talk to instead of leaving him to lash out like that.

All I know is that whatever this is, it isn’t right.

We’re brothers. We get along. Always.

One of the things I love the most about my roommates is that we all get each other. We’re all here for one another through all our weirdness, through all our struggles. Rush has issues sleeping? I get up with him. Christian is borderline breakdown? We smother him with physical touch or wrap him up in a blanket burrito. Molly’s being neurotic or overlyemotional, we talk through it with him and reassure him. Xander’s anxiety flares up, we do whatever we can to help calm him.

Seven, most of all.

I’ve never, ever seen him make Xander cry and not immediately fall over himself trying to fix it.

Xander folds up his taco and pushes it to the middle of the table. “Not hungry,” he whispers, then gets up and goes back to the car.

The rest of us turn to Seven.

“What?” he grunts, trying to focus on his food.

“Are you going to tell us what that was?” Molly chokes out.

“I’m sick of it,” Seven hisses, worry heavy on his brow. “I’m sick of him thinking he’s not good enough. That he needs to be perfect, always. He doesn’t. None of us are.”

“Maybe you should have told him that,” I say.

“I have.” Seven balls up his leftovers and tosses them into the middle of the table too. “He doesn’t listen.”

“Yes, but you’ve started therapy,” Christian points out. “He hasn’t. You can’t expect him to change his whole mental state because you told him he needs to one time.”

“Yeah, I hate to say it”—and I really, really hate to say it and draw his attention—“but you know Z. If he wants to get the tattoos, he will. Fight or no fight. And we all know you don’t trust anyone to do his tattoos but you.”

All the tension leaves Seven’s broad shoulders. “Right.”

“Besides.” Émile is the only one at the table who isn’t troubled. “Who are you to tell someone what they can and can’t do with their face? You’re well within your rights to refuse to do it, but you also can’t tell him that he can’t.”

My gaze immediately goes to the tattoos that run from Seven’s neck and up over his head.

He grunts. “I hate you all. For the record.”

“Good to see therapy is working,” I throw back.

But while Molly gets him to agree to apologize, and Seven admits he’ll do the tattoos, the whole thing has left a bad taste in my mouth.

Things are changing. And where I thought Bertha and my roommates would always be my safe space, it’s becoming more and more obvious that it can only last so long. The years with them have been a gift, but what if it’s all coming to an end?

“I wonder where Rush ended up,” Émile comments lightly.

My heart sinks.

I didn’t even notice he was missing.

Chapter 24

Penn

Lisa’s gaze flicks my way for the fortieth time since this morning. I’m trying to ignore her, trying to focus on my work, but every now and then, she lets out this aborted laugh that she tries to choke down again.

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