“On that note,” I say, “I’m going to catch a cab home.” I turn to Miller and hand over the redhead so he has one girl on each side. “Have fun with that.”
I almost get to the end of the block, but Miller calls out.
“Wait, Jackson.” He’s ditched the girls and is already halfway to me. When he reaches me, he casts his eyes down. “Look, this … thing. With Talon and me. It’s just something we used to do in college. It’s not like we touch or anything. We’re—”
“Don’t worry, I won’t think you’re queer because you have a four-way. It’s none of my business. It doesn’t involve anyone but you guys … well, and those jersey chasers over there. Just don’t let the press catch wind of what you’re doing. You think the past few months have been fun for me? Wait until an orgy gets leaked.”
He runs his hands through his hair. “Shit, you’re right. We’re not in college anymore. We shouldn’t—”
“Ready to go?” Talon yells from where he’s caught up to the girls.
Something happens to Miller’s face when he sees Talon. All reservation is gone as he says goodbye to me and follows them. I tell myself to pretend I didn’t see or hear anything, because it’s not my business and I’d rather stay oblivious.
I make my escape while I can and grab a taxi at the end of the block, glad to be outta the stupid wind. Fuck this city.
The night wears on me, the alcohol finally kicks into my system, and I’m no longer in the company of distractions. Friends don’t let friends drink and text. That should go for taxi drivers too. They should make it part of their service. Because now that I’m alone, I do the one thing I promised myself I wouldn’t. I click on Noah’s name and type out three words he doesn’t want to read.
I miss you.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Noah
“Get up,” a voice says and tries to shake me awake. I’m on my stomach, there’s drool on my pillow, and I have absolutely no idea what time it is.
I crack an eye open. “What the fuck, Jet?”
“It’s seven p.m. Get. The. Fuck. Up.”
“I don’t think you’re allowed to talk to your landlord like that.”
“You’re not my landlord if I don’t pay you. You’re more like an adoptive older brother. Which means I get to annoy you.”
I roll onto my back. “Why do I need to get up? I was awake for like thirty-something hours getting stuff done on the Rainbow Beds project. I want to sleeeeeeep.”
“I have a gig tonight, and you’re coming.”
“Why?”
“Because all you’ve done since Matt left is work and sulk.”
“Noah Huntington doesn’t sulk. Over anyone.”
Jet steals my comforter off me. “Does Noah Huntington shower? Because he needs to. Go.”
“I don’t want to.” It doesn’t escape me that the nineteen-year-old is being more mature than me right now, but I don’t care.
The real reason I was up all night was because I was staring at my stupid phone.
I miss you. What kind of shit is that? What am I supposed to do with it? Message him the words I’ve been desperate to say to him since he left?
Come back.
Don’t leave me again.
I love you.
Fucking Matt. He’s messing with my head even though there’s eight hundred miles between us.
“It’s your choice whether you shower or not, but you’re going out either way. So, you have the choice of looking like a hobo or you can shower and get all old man sexy and forget about my stupid brother.”
“Seriously, quit with the old shit. Twenty-six is not old.”
“Whatever, old man.”
Jet hovers in my room while I shower, like I need a babysitter, and still refuses to get out when I return in only my towel.
“You gonna just stand there and watch while I dress?”
“I need to make sure you don’t get back into bed.”
“You’re a brat.”
“At least I’m good at something.”
I cock my head, because now that I’m really looking at him, I realize he’s not in here for me at all. He fidgets with the hem of his shirt, and he keeps shuffling from one foot to the other as if he’s impatient, but I don’t think that has anything to do with it. “You’re nervous. About your gig.”
He folds his arms across his chest and tries to look defiant. “Fuck off. I’ve done heaps of gigs before.”
“Not in New York. Not at somewhere as important as Club Soho.”
Jet scowls and drops his arms. “Fine. Okay. I need you to freaking hold my hand like I’m a kid on my first day of school. The band booked this gig, and I still don’t know half their songs. Seeing as Matt’s not here, you’re now my surrogate big brother. Suck it up.”
I can’t help laughing, even though I shouldn’t. He’s scared about going on stage and needs my support, not mocking. “You know, if you’d have told me that from the beginning, I would’ve moved a lot faster. I thought …” I run a hand over my shaved head. “I thought you were being all pushy about Matt.”