Page 101 of Home Ice

“You sure?”

I really am. Despite knowing I would have been a shithead about Kasen if Hawke had found out back when he was born, I’m better than that now. I might sometimes get swept up in being around him and only him, but any time those two can spend together also makes me happy. Because Hawke being happy feels like the whole purpose of life. He’s such a guarded sweetheart who deserves everything, and maybe I can’t give him that, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want it for him.

I’m so glad I get to be back in his life, but this house is a reminder that it’s only temporary. A quick glimpse at who my best friend has become before we part ways again.

He leaves with Kasen, and I soak up how relaxed the house makes me feel, knowing it can’t last, no matter how much I want it to.

Because this is Hawke’s life, and I don’t think it’s ever been clearer to me than it is right now that I’m going to lose him.

Soon.

And I’m not actually sure I’ll survive it again.

Chapter Thirty-Three

JENSEN

Ialmost don’t want to go to the wedding. Yeah, I’m a great teammate, whatever, but the day and a half at home with Kasen and Barrett fills me with something I didn’t know I was missing. Having Lachie live with me is great, but it’s not a long-term thing, and then what happens when he moves out?

I like having people around.

Turns out, I like it even more when those people happen to be two of my favorites. It’s not surprising that it feels so good with Barrett here, but it is surprising how much I like having Kasen in my space. Something about being away from Watesburg has loosened him up, and while our usual antagonism is there, it’s punctuated by moments of real conversation.

I hate to say it, but Kasen is way cooler than I ever was at his age. While Barrett and I were sneaking out of our houses and clinging to each other like lifelines, Kasen collects people. He has a large group of friends who all seem to keep each other on their toes, and his ego is maybe one-tenth the size of mine when I was his age.

He’s so young, and he’s been through so much, and every time we spend together makes me more and more protective of him. I wish I could go back in time and do something to save Carly so that he’d never have to face that kind of hurt again.

“You ready?” I ask, finding him in the bathroom.

He doesn’t answer, just glares at his reflection and where he’s trying to get his hair to sit right.

The same fight I’ve had a million times.

“Need help?”

“No. My hair always does this. Curls are fucked.”

I snort because where the hell does he think he got them from? Without a word, I move close, pick up the gel, and rub it between my hands. Then, reaching out slowly to give him time to duck away if he wants, I touch his head.

“The trick is to work with them,” I tell him, messing up whatever the hell he was trying to achieve and getting to work on something that I know from experience looks good. I got tired of the locker room bullshit every time photos of me were posted looking like I’d been electrocuted.

My hair is longer, so I can do the sweep-over thing easier than with his, but by the time I’ve finished, I’m damn happy with how it’s turned out.

“There.” I move my hands away, looking from his hair to the reflection. “That’s good, right?”

He screws up his nose and tugs at the curl hanging over his eyebrow.

“Do you hate it?” I fight the usual panic that comes with disappointing him.

“It’s fine.”

“I can try something else.”

He bats my hand away. “It’s fine. I …” He tugs the curl again. “I look like you.”

“Hate to tell you this, but it’s not because of the hair.”

He sighs and drops his hands, both of us watching each other in the mirror, and it really is bizarre to feel like I’m looking at a younger, slightly distorted reflection. “Should I get my nose pierced too?”