Page 91 of Second Story

“Brave,” he snorts softly.

I don’t know how anyone could see him as anything but. A lifetime of reading about dragons pays off. “You burned but survived. I’ll give you a clue what that makes you: It starts with the letterH.”

I’d tattooheroonto the skin I uncover for our second shower of the day if it wasn’t already marked by plenty of reminders.

Joe lets me wash him again, and I want to spend a lifetime getting to do that as long as it comes with him rewriting his own story like he does in this steam-filled bathroom.

“Josh changed course for me. Could be earning a fortune in some corporate computer role. Switched to digital forensics to hunt down who ordered this to happen.” He traces long-cooled lava while I dry him. “Never said a fucking word, and tonight I finally heard why.” His voice thickens like the steam that once swirled between us on a station platform when I couldn’t reach him.

I can now. More than that, I get to wrap my arms around him in bed the same way he did to me this morning in his kitchen. My damp chest almost presses against his back until Joe finds my hip and pulls me closer, and his voice rumbles through where we connect.

“Josh would never agree to switch places with me at school. Wouldn’t take my tests for me. Way too black and white to break the rules.” He snorts again even more softly, a yawn chasingclose behind it. “Tonight he finally told me about the one time he did. A top boy mistook him for me. Tried to give him gang-related work that could have got me locked up for life. Josh pretended to be me. Told them where to go, hoping it would get me kicked out. Got me punished instead.”

The last of my fight fades when he repeats a confession from a protective big brother.

“Says the guilt almost killed him. Overwhelmed him the same way Noah got swamped by his own secret. Stole his voice. Did it again tonight when we were talking. Think he had more to tell me, but couldn’t.” He’s quiet for a long moment. “The only way he could see how to fix it was by making them pay. He’s been bringing down their business brick by brick. Tracking their suppliers. Locating where they stashed their product before they could sell it. Locking down their access to cash so they couldn’t buy more. That arrest was going to be the end of them.”

He turns to face me, concern battling tiredness. “He wants to explain all of that to your mum. She got caught in the middle. He had no idea she wasn’t bailed. None of that was intentional. He doesn’t know if it’s forgivable. I think that’s what he always wanted. My forgiveness.” Joe closes his eyes, and this is so quiet I almost miss it. “He doesn’t know where to start explaining that or if she’d even want to listen.”

Helicopters hover outside, searchlights slicing through knife crime central.

They don’t need to keep watch over Joe while he sleeps. Neither does his brother.

I’ll do it until we can find a way to tell her that story together.

25

JOE

I don’t remember falling asleep or know if I’m truly awake until movement registers.

Isaac lies on his side, facing away, outlined by a faint glow. He shifts minutely, swiping his phone screen, I guess, his hair a night-dark halo I can’t help touching.

Soft curls wrap my fingers. I tug on one lightly. “Problem?” If something is keeping him awake, I want to solve that issue for him. “Can I help?”

“No.” He rolls over to face me, his voice low and husky. “Sorry if I disturbed you.”

“By reading? You didn’t.” The text of his book is barely bright enough to read let alone to wake me. “Must be good.”

“Not compared to you.” His gaze is shadowed, soft like his hair, and everything I used to dream of when hookups used to leave long before the morning.

Tonight, that faint glow from Isaac’s phone shows me that dreams can come true. His chest is bare. So is his expression while he touches my face. Isaac traces my jawline, my lower lip, a smile of his own flickering when I kiss the tips of those exploringfingers. He ends by sliding a hand through my hair and cupping the nape of my neck to pull me closer, and I can’t keep in a rumble at that sliding sensation or at what he whispers to me.

“Can’t sleep, Joe. But I can’t concentrate on reading either.”

He lets go of me to page back, his phone screen filling with a whole library of titles. Books go on forever, he scrolls through so many of them. “My brain won’t stop. Nothing can hold my interest.”

I hope to fuck I do—that I get to hold his interest long term, whatever happens.

I want that so much I don’t try to hide worry that comes out sounding as husky as him. “We’re gonna be okay, yeah?”

Time stands still for a long moment until Isaac slides even closer. His hold on me is as firm as his answer. “Yes.” That hold tightens, the next tug on my hair way harder than mine was on that single curl of his.

I like it. Like too that he only releases me to keep exploring. His thumb brushes against stubble at the hinge of my jaw, and he leans in for a kiss but misses my mouth—on purpose, I think. His lips drag next to mine as if he likes the prickle.

Isaac wants more friction, and not only in his bedtime reading. I don’t have to guess that. He goes ahead and tells me.

“You know the problem with the book I’m reading?”

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