Page 133 of Stop and Seek
“Baby, what’s wrong?”
“I’m just all over the place,” Theo murmured. “I was thinking you look like you’re from a nineties boy band, but I somehow got to surfboards, and thenHollisterand now,” he dropped his voice to a whisper, “I want to jump off the goddamn balcony.”
“No leap of faith from the second story.” Noah held out his hands. “Come here. Story time.”
Did Noah expect Theo toactuallycome over? To wrap his arms around Noah’s waist, head leaning against his chest?
Hell no.
But he did, and Noah forgot how to breathe for a second.
Carefully—like Theo might shatter into a million pieces, or bolt out the door—Noah held him. He pressed his lips into still-damp red waves and tried not to smile.
“Once upon a time,” he started, blood rushing through his ears. “I had a cousin. I thought he was the coolest person on the face of the planet. Smart, funny… everyone loved him. I wanted to be just like him. So I copiedeverything.” Noah laughed. “Kinda. I did my best, and then real life got in the way. But that’s how I ended up looking like a… uh… boy band model who surfs part-time. Did I get that right?”
Theo snorted, burying his face further into Noah’s shirt. “Shut up.”
There was a beat of silence, and it didn’t feel comfortable this time. It was too loaded, the hair on Noah’s arms prickling his skin.
“I can make breakfast,” he said, but Theo was talking at the same time.
“Can I ask what happened?”
Stepping back, Theo drained the last of the coffee and kept going like he hadn’t just ripped open Noah’s ribcage.
“He’s dead, right? What happened? Or is that too personal?”
“I’m ninety-nine percent sure Lex is alive,” Noah mumbled with the same awful, awkward laugh. “We’re not close anymore. I haven’t seen him in eight years.”
Eight years, one month, and ten days—not like Noah was counting.
But the person he saw in London wasn’tLex.
Lex didn’t flinch when someone saidhi. Lex didn’t look at strangers like they were monsters. Lex didn’t choose someblack-haired piece of shitover his own blood.
He should’ve lied. Said Lex was dead. Because the real Lex—the one he spent his entire fucking childhood idolizing—was.
“Oh.”
Another classic, one-word Theo response. How the hell did he manage to sound disappointed and annoyedandhot all at once?
“Did you expect some crazy story?” Noah asked. “Falling from the roof of a building, blood everywhere—that kinda thing?”
Why did Theo perk up.
He rolled his lips together, but Noah caught the smile before it disappeared. “If you have any stories like that, I’m all ears.”
I can tell you things that will make you swear off horror movies for the rest of your life, baby.
Instead, Noah smiled. “You should probably eat. Might make you feel better. I make a mean scrambled egg.”
“Don’t burn down my kitchen.”
The eggs hissed in the pan, grease popping in the air. The whole apartment smelled like weed, butter, and whatever lingering sex-funk had settled on his clothes—but Noah didn’t care. His cheeks hurt from smiling.
He scooped the eggs onto plates with all the finesse of a toddler playing restaurant, slapped a fork down beside each one, and shoved a plate toward Theo at the too-small two-top table.
“This is the part where you pretend I’m a culinary genius,” Noah said, raising his eyebrows.
