Page 87 of Flagrant Foul
Nate’s in my doorway. Beaming, with a subtle glow of smugness lighting the line of his jaw. His hair is longer than it was the last time I saw him, and he’s shaved the scruff he’s been sporting for the last couple of years. He looks different like this. Mature but fresh-faced, almost like the old days. Both hands are raised up near his head, fingers extended in keeping with the happy surprise he believes himself to be delivering.
“Surprise!” he says again. “Did I get you? I got you, didn’t I? I got yougood.”
“Um, yeah,” I reply faintly. “You got me.”
He spreads his arms to their full wingspan and takes me in. His lips press together, tipping down at the corners. He holds that pose for a beat, and then cracks intoa smile. His face transforms into an old, familiar picture. A picture meant only for me.
“Get over here,” he says, flicking his head to invite me into his arms.
I take the two wobbly steps required to get to him and let him embrace me. His grip is firm, like it always is, arms wrapping around the middle of my back and squeezing the breath out of me.
Nate’s one of those people who hugs hard. Hard, so you know he means it. Hard, so you feel his love, even if you’re not feeling particularly lovable.
He releases me, checking my face for signs of things that upset or worry me. When, by some miracle, he finds none, he ruffles my hair.
I bat him off like I always do when he does it, and he laughs like he always does.
He hugs me again, softer and longer this time because this time it isn’t for me. It’s for him. “Missed you,” he whispers.
My heart beats like a big bag of marbles that has been dropped from a great height. Skittish and disordered. Fast and irregular. Anxiety slithers into my lungs and steals my oxygen.
Panic chokes me, and the only thing I can think is,I’m wearing Sev’s jacket.
Nate moves me to the side, keeping a hand curled around my neck, and pulls Sev in for an embrace of his own. Sev’s movements are wooden, his body stiff with tension where it touches mine.
Nate doesn’t seem to notice. “Missed you too, bud,” he says, clapping a hand on Sev’s back.
He releases both of us and we step back into the apartment, Sev and I scuttling away from each other as though we think it might help mitigate the mess we’ve found ourselves in. Nate follows, dragging his bags in with him and depositing them next to Ragnar’s tank. The front door swings shut and a slight lull follows. It’s only a few seconds, but the quiet is loud and sharp.
It’s a moment that should be nothing. It should be filled with easy conversation. Casual banter between blood brothers and chosen brothers.
Silence drags out, growing louder and sharper.
Nate looks at Sev, then me, and back to Sev again. He blinks slightly harder than usual. His eyes are bright and clear before he does it. Relaxed and happy. They’re a little more focused when he opens them.
My jaw works, but no sound comes out.
Sev is looking down, the tendons in his neck engaged. He’s trying to swallow or speak, but the tendons in his neck are pulled too tightly to allow it. He’s nervous, andit shows. No, not nervous. Guilty. It’s written across his features as surely as if it were imprinted in stone.
Nate’s chest rises and falls. His brows sink down low and his lips gradually become absorbed into a thin line.
No one speaks for so long, I start babbling. “Steak and potatoes…dinner. We were thinking about going out to dinner before you got here, and you know what? We should all go. It was just going to be a casual Wednesday night meal, but now it can be a-acelebrationbecause you’re here and, and we’re so surprised. I mean,we’renot so surprised. I’m surprised, and Sev is…separately surprised.”
Nate doesn’t blink. He meets my gaze, and my eyes skid off his, unwilling, unable, to face what I see there.
He steps toward me.
“Why are you wearing this?” he asks, flicking the collar of Sev’s jacket with two fingers.
“I, um…”
I watch, heart in throat, as he pieces it together. His face changes in distinctive stages, growing harder and harsher as the realization materializes into something concrete.
He blinks rapidly and expels a punched breath when it’s done.
He knows.
His nostrils flare, teeth glinting with anger that quickly turns into rage. He spins, turning to face Sev head-on. “Are you for real? Is this happening? Are you fucking my brother?” Sev opens his mouth to reply, but Nate doesn’t wait to hear what he has to say. “You are, aren’t you? Jesus fucking Christ, you’ve got to be kidding me. Are you fucking kidding me with this shit?”
