Page 95 of Mortgage of Convenience

“Did you?”

“God no, that shit was terrifying. But I did it.”

Sebastian smiles softly, the left side of his mouth curled up, his eyes fixed on me, saying nothing. If hearts could melt, mine would liquefy.

Aiden’s surprise is all over his face. “That might be the most you’ve said to me since you got home.”

Oh hello, guilt, I’d almost forgotten you were here.

He continues. “I feel like Lois seeing Clark without the glasses. You were already cooler than me, but now I’ll never catch up.”

Tears appear before I register what he’s said. It feels ridiculous, getting weepy over a compliment from my brother in the middle of a crowded park on a Saturday afternoon, but the records will show I am a dramatic bitch, and I know better than to dispute the facts.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Why stop now? You’re on a roll. You’re not about to tell me you work for the CIA, are you?”

The laugh that bubbles up cuts through the tightness wrapped around my lungs, and I feel ten times lighter. “That’s the second time someone’s asked me that,” I say. “But no. It’s about why I came home.”

Sebastian shifts beside me, and Aiden’s eyes dart over, but I don’t look. I can’t. There’s too much there, and right now, I don’t think I could hide everything I feel for him.

There’s a lot I’m ready to tell my brother, but not that.

Not yet.

“All right, bumblebee, are you going to tell me or keep me in suspense all day?”

At the use of my childhood nickname, I throw a balled-up napkin at him. Brothers. “Maybe I won’t tell you at all and watch you turn gray trying to work it out.” I pause, feigning sadness. “Oh, wait.”

He throws the napkin back at me.

“Come on, I want to know.”

Deep breaths.

“So, I’ve written this book.”

We’re forced home when a surprise summer shower descends upon the park. Unfortunately for us, Sebastian is taking his rain cloud to go.

Helplessness nips at my heels, but I kick it away, following him into the living room. Our living room.

With my books sitting in a case he made me and Sebastian’s feet propped up on my beanbag chair. His plants lining the windowsill under a curtain I thrifted. My jacket thrown over the back of his couch. All the minute ways our lives have intersected, threading together until one can’t be removed without changing the other.

I’ve always seen him as someone who lived with passion and purpose. Living with him has opened my eyes to the reality of him, and what I’ve learned has only made me appreciate him more.

I didn’t know it at the time, but buying this house was the best decision I’ve ever made, and kissing him is the most interesting thing that’s happened to me in a long time.

To be the cause of his distress hurts worse than if he’d pushed me away.

“Hit me.”

“What?”

“You’re quiet. Is it a book problem? Talk to me.”

Oh.

“Actually.” My foot is bouncing. “I finished the book.”

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