Page 54 of Unwanted

Just for me.

The simple gesture eases my anxiety. I may not have all those questions answered, but at least I know he’s thinking about me too.

“Arlo,” Clem calls out, interrupting our moment. She races to me and I catch her in my arms.

“Hey, you,” I say. “How’ve you been?”

I plant her feet back on the ground and look around at everybody else in the room.

“Hey.” I wave at both Lennox and Samuel and they respond with a collective “Hey.”

Frankie’s Airbnb wasn’t small, but it wasn’t big enough for the seven of us at one time.

Lennox and Samuel alone were too big for the sectional couch that sat in the middle of the living area. Add in the rest of us and there wasn’t a piece of furniture available that didn’t have a body on it.

When I was here the first time with Frankie, I wasn’t really concentrating on the layout or anticipating that this would be the place everyone congregated every night.

But the York brothers were like the sun, and everybody gravitated to their warmth. When they were together, everybody wanted to be around them.

It was evident in our new routine and the smiles on everybody’s faces as they sat around and ate and laughed and continued trying to learn sign language together.

Lennox was still finding his feet. It was easy to see he was struggling, but he wasn’t hiding away, and that made me feel hopeful for him. Samuel continued to be Lennox’s loyal watchdog. Even before the injury, he was his protector. What he was protecting him from I wasn’t sure, but it was obvious that was the role he played in their friendship.

Rhys had taken teaching us ASL very seriously, and I was eternally grateful to whatever stars aligned to have him here in our lives. Teaching Lennox—teaching all of us—had allowed for Lennox’s healing to be private and personal.

Most importantly, I loved seeing Frankie and Lennox make up for lost time. Despite the hurdles and the hurt, they were bridging the gap, and selfishly, that made me hope it was enough to make Frankie stay in LA permanently.

We’d only had one kiss, but I wasn’t lying when I insinuated it was enough to bind me to him all over again. And while I didn’t want him to leave, I don’t think I’ll ever have the courage to be the one to ask him to stay.

Not for me.

“Would you like some dinner?” Frankie asks, pointing to the kitchen. Using as many hand gestures as we can is something we’ve all agreed to do until we’re more confident and fluent in ASL, hoping it assists with ensuring Lennox feels included at all times. “Remy cooked.”

I dart my gaze to Remy, who is standing by the stove in the kitchen, fixing himself a plate. It looks like spaghetti bolognese.

I chuckle. “Is this a joke? Because I’ve spent years cooking for you and have yet to have the favor returned.”

Clem stalks over to him and tries to stick her finger into his loaded up bowl, but he smacks her hand away.

Eyeing both of them I walk across the living room to the kitchen. “I’ve missed you both at home lately. Where have you both been?” I reach for Remy’s bowl and take it out of his hand. He glares at me as I lift his already full fork and obnoxiously stuff it into my mouth.

“This tastes great,” I manage to mumble.

Frankie joins us, and I don’t know what possesses me, but I twirl some spaghetti onto the fork and bring it to his mouth. His eyes lock on mine as he accepts the food.

The room stills, voices quiet. I know they’re all watching us, trying to figure the moment out. It’s the first time we’ve been in the same room since the kiss, and apparently I’m just running on instinct when he’s around me.

Trying to keep the air light, I continue to eat the pasta and shift my attention to Clem and Remy. Clem’s eyes dart between Frankie and me, while Remy makes himself another bowl of spaghetti. “So, where have you both been?” I repeat.

“I’ve been here,” Remy answers. “And I’m pretty sure Clem’s seeing someone.”

Clem smacks Remy on the back of his head before he and Frankie head back out to the living room, and that’s all the proof I need to know she is, in fact, seeing someone.

It’s not really a surprise that Remy is occasionally staying here with Lennox, but Clem very rarely sleeps out of the house, so this is new and the perfect opportunity to hopefully avoid their scrutiny.

“So, who’s the lucky guy?” I tease, taking another mouthful of pasta.

“Oh.” She leans back on the kitchen counter, ankles crossed, arms over her chest. Clem glances at Frankie and then back at me. “Are we sharing secrets now?”

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