Page 97 of Joey

So I kiss him.

It’s long, and slow, and there’s no more talking. Just hands on skin. And lips. And tongues. And legs trying to fit together.

Finally he pulls away first and leans back against the wall.

I wipe my hand across my lips and lean into the staircase.

It feels like a sizing-up moment. And I don’t think we’ve had one of these since college. Maybe since that very first night we met during rush week.

“Then what happened?” Huck finally says.

“When?”

“After we bought you.”

“Oh.” I smile. “We went to the lake house.”

“Really?” he says.

“What do you mean?”

“That’s the best you can do? The old standby, Joey?”

“Dude.” I laugh.

“Come on. Where did we go? After we bought you, what did we do?”

I let out a breath and my shoulders drop. “We… we went to the airport.”

“Yeah? Where did we go?”

“Home,” I say. “We went home.”

Even in this hazy, stray, leftover light I can see him smile. “Home, huh?”

“Yeah. We just went home.”

“Nothin’ wrong with home.” Huck pauses. Then nods his head to the other set of stairs that lead down to the basement. “That’s home now.”

I raise my eyebrows at him.

“Not the basement, you dumbass. Them. Us. Forget about what home was with your brothers. Forget about the home you never had and the one you’ve spent all these years looking for. Because it’s not there, Joey. It’s just not there. This is home now. We’re your home now. Wherever we are, that’s home.”

I want to grab that offer and hold it tight. I want to keep it close and never let it go. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, I realize.

Them. With me.

And I never quite knew how to get there. I never quite understood what we were to each other so the right words to express my feelings for them never materialized. No one ever told me the secret. No one ever gave me an in.

Until the other day when Brooke Alder found her way into my temporary office at Bright Berry Beach Cosmetics and Huck Newtown got an idea.

It was a spectacularly bad idea and a genius-level good one at the same time.

But it worked.

We’re here. Together. And no one’s making excuses.

I suddenly realize none of this is about Maisy.