Page 15 of All We Are

Whatever it fucking takes until the voice in my head trying to rationalize my addiction once again fades to the background.

Today, though…

Today’s a good day.

Aneasyday.

Thank whoever the fuck is watching out for me for small mercies.

Will looks like he wants to say something, but then his gaze drops to my cheek and his mouth parts with his inhale. Cheesy as it fucking is, I didn’t even realize I was smiling until now. Then again, I’ve always been able to see myself better through his eyes.

And just like that, the twinge of craving dissipates completely.

Will’s not a cure, but he’s a hell of great distraction when I need him to be. Not always, but more often than not. Especially when he’s gazing at me like he is now, like the mere sight of me smiling his way baffles him. Blows his fucking mind.

Kind of like how he was blowingmymind earlier.

My tongue swipes over my lip at the memory, tingles spreading along my spine.

Fuck, that was so hot.

Will’s deep blue eyes glitter back at me. His throat bobs with a hard swallow, and I just know he’s remembering earlier too.

“Goddamn,” I hear him mutter, and my smile twists to the side, refusing to budge, desire blooming hotly in my stomach.

Goddamn is right.

I clear my throat and give a little shake of my head, knocking our shoulders together before turning to face forward once more. We haven’t stopped walking, but our steps have slowed enough that people have started to move around us, separating us from the rest of our group.

Or rather, what’s left of it.

Up ahead, I spot Phoebe through a gap in the crowd. She’s gesticulating wildly at something, curls of hair fluttering in the light breeze from where the two knots on top of her head have started to loosen. Tied around her neck, a pale pink, blue, and white flag ripples behind her like a cape—something she bought a couple blocks back.

Next to her, Shawn’s a dark, broad, towering figure standing over her—a shadow pressed up against her light, sharing the space rather than snuffing it out. His head bent down like he’s listening very intently to whatever it is she’s going on about now.

My lips twitch at the sight.

At first, we weren’t sure if we should even bring Phoebe this weekend. She just turned fifteen. Not that this isn’t for people of all ages, but still, we worried how she might deal with being at Pride. We didn’t want her to feel any kind of pressure to be out.

Well, Mason and I worried. Shawn too, though he was the one she looked to when we brought the subject up to her. Like she was looking for his reassurance, or hell, permission. I don’t know. All I know is when Phoebe needs someone’s opinion, Mason and I aren’t the first people she looks towards.

Not that she always listens to Shawn, but it’s different. There’s some kind of mutual, unspoken respect there that Mason and I aren’t privy to. She looks up to him. Values what he has to say. Whereas with us, we could tell her the sky’s blue, and she’ll insist it’s lime green.

She’s been that way since she learned how to talk. Hell, even as a toddler, she was a little spitfire, teetering to the beat of a drum only she could hear, and fuck anyone else who told her she was off-rhythm.

“She looks happy,” Will says loud enough for me to hear.

I almost say, “She’s always happy,” but something stops me. Not that she isn’t back home, but it’s different today, and Will sees it too. So instead, I just nod, and quietly say, “Yeah.”

An ache pinches at my chest when I think about how sad it is that she can’t always have this…freedom, I guess you’d call it. My fingers twitch at my sides, seeking to connect with Will’s at the reminder of how different it is here.

How open.

Howloud.

The kind of loud that has me standing taller, smiling more freely, and feeling like I could do anything I set my mind to.

Like holding my boyfriend’s hand in public.

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