Page 41 of Egg Me On

I shook my head, lips twitching into what felt like the thousandth smile he'd pulled from me today alone. Words weren't necessary—he'd grown fluent in my silences, reading the slight shifts in my expression that most people missed. My fingers traced idle patterns along his shoulder, mapping the topography of him through the worn fabric of his t-shirt.

"The director definitely thought he was making high art," Aiden continued, reaching for another slice of pizza. Grease glistened on his fingers as he gestured at the screen. "Look at those camera angles. Very avant-garde zombie apocalypse. Much deep. So horror."

I snorted, taking a bite of my own slice. Supreme with extra cheese. It was Aiden's favorite, not mine, but I was discovering I'd eat cardboard if it made him smile that particular smile, the one that crinkled the corners of his eyes and made something in my chest contract painfully.

Boyfriend. The word surfaced in my mind without warning, bringing with it a jolt of uncertainty. Was that what we were now? We hadn't discussed labels, hadn't formally defined whatever this was between us. Just fallen into a rhythm of shared nights and stolen kisses and my motorcycle parked more often in his driveway than at my apartment.

His sister wandered in. “Hey, dorks,” she said cheerfully. The cushions dipped she flung herself onto the opposite end of the sofa, her designer leggings and perfectly highlighted hair a stark contrast to Aiden's rumpled comfort. She reached over me, snagging a slice of pizza without asking.

“We’re the dorks? Really?” Aiden asked, lobbing a napkin at his sister.

"Don’t tell me you’re indulging his love for 2-star horror movies?" she asked, folding the slice in half and taking a bite that was somehow both dainty and aggressive.

"Vampire Stripper Zombie Hunters! It's a classic," Aiden protested, not bothering to sit up from where he was nestled against my side.

Mira rolled her eyes, chewing thoughtfully before her gaze settled on me with unnerving directness. "So, Cash, I saw your brother lost that senate race.”

Aiden stuck his tongue out at her. “We don’t talk about Cash’s brother. Not until he apologizes.”

Leo wouldn’t apologize, but not talking to my family hadn’t been that difficult.

Mira rolled her eyes. “He’s an ass-hat anyway. And how was therapy today? Learn to talk yet?"

The question landed like an unexpected punch, stealing the air from my lungs. My body tensed, pizza slice hovering halfway to my mouth. The words to respond, to deflect, explain, or tell her it was none of her fucking business, jammed in my throat, trapped behind the familiar wall of what I now realized was anxiety. Anxiety that therapy was supposed to help dismantle.

I glanced at Aiden, finding his eyes already on me, warm with understanding.

"Jesus, Mira," he said, poking his sister's thigh with his sock-covered foot. "It was his first session with the therapist, not magical fix-it hour. Besides—" His hand found mine, fingers interlacing with deliberate purpose. "I love Cash exactly how he is."

My chest tightened at the casual declaration, at how easily he said the words that still lodged in my throat like shrapnel. I squeezed his hand, hoping he could read under the pressure what I couldn't say aloud.

Aiden grinned and kissed me on the cheek.

Mira glanced at me, then at him. “Okay, so I get that Cash is stupid hot, and does that growly, possessive, caveman thing. Which I dig. But are you sure you couldn’t do better?”

Aiden gasped and jabbed her with his elbow. “Mira! He’s sitting right here!”

“What? I just have to ask. Obviously, I can see why he’d love you, Aiden, because you’re related to me, and so… clearly lovable. But what does he bring to the table? Presumably a big dick?”

I choked on my beer.

Aiden rolled his eyes. “He brings adventure. Gets me to look around, enjoy life. Holds my hand, makes sure I’m safe, and then takes me for a wild ride up into the mountains.” He lowered his voice. “And he has a big dick.”

Mira burst out laughing. "God, I did not need to know that." Mira patted my knee. “You know, I’m glad you found each other. Just try not to be too corny around my friends.”

Aiden threw a wadded-up napkin at her, which she batted away with impressive reflexes. "You're just jealous because the frat boys you date have the emotional depth of a kiddie pool."

"At least they can string more than three words together," she shot back, then immediately winced. "Sorry, Cash. That was bitchy." She reached out and touched my hand, an unexpected gesture. “You are a sweetheart, and I do love everything you do for my brother. Well, maybe not the motorcycle rides—”

“Quit while you’re ahead,” Aiden grumped, elbowing his sister. They had this antagonistic, teasing way of communicating, but it was clear they loved each other beneath it all. It was clear that Mira cared a lot about Aiden, and that was what mattered in all of it.

Besides, it wasn't an inaccurate observation, just a blunt one, and there was something refreshing about her lack of pity, the way she treated me just like she treated her brother, as if she expected that one day, I might see her as a true sister.

"Anyway," she continued, standing in one fluid motion and snagging another slice of pizza, "I'm headed out. Brunch planning committee for the sorority fundraiser." She grabbed her keys from the hook by the door, stuffing them into her purse. "Don't wait up. And maybe disinfect that couch when you're done making out on it. Grandma's ghost doesn't need to witness whatever happens next."

The door slammed behind her, leaving a sudden, expectant silence broken only by the screams of zombie victims on the television. Aiden's thumb traced small circles against my palm, each movement sending ripples of heat up my arm.

"Sorry about her," he said, reaching for the remote to pause the carnage on screen. "She means well. Usually. Sometimes. In her own prickly, boundary-challenged way, she approves of you. I think she even likes you."

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