Finn McGovern appeared a few minutes later. With his golden hair, scruffy beard, and tattooed hands, he was Nash’s brand of McGovern to the bone, and I was so fucking grateful he’d moved heaven and earth to be here.
We embraced and I was all fucking teary again. Cos it had been years. Finn wasn’t always well enough to do shit like this, and even when he was, the mild-mannered hottie shadowing him made a close friendship impossible.
Danny Jones.
I tipped Finn’s husband a nod.
He returned it with a wry smile. “If no one talks to me, I was never here.”
“Works for me.”
Danny grinned and took himself somewhere probably only Saint and Alexei could see.
Finn got busy setting up for the secret sunrise set he’d driven through the night to make happen. It wasn’t much. A guitar, a mic. The glowing embers of the fire and the first golden rays of a dream-like summer morning.
I checked in with my people. Found Embry and Mateo eating breakfast like love-struck teenagers. Mateo laughing. Embry eating most of the fucking food.
Goddammit, I lived to see it.
I crouched beside them, noting the Saint-esque leaf in Mateo’s hair. “Got everything you need? Or have you had it already?”
Mateo averted his gaze.
Embry laughed. “We’re good. What say you, brother?”
“Loving life.”
“Good. You deserve it.”
So did he, so did Mateo, even if I did swipe his coffee.
I left them to each other and moved on to where Decoy and Folk sat quietly in the growing light, Folk between Decoy’s legs, leaning back against his chest, enjoying the peace before Juana and my sister brought the kids back.
Folk had his eyes closed, a lazy smile on his face as Decoy combed gentle hands through his hair.
Too peaceful to disturb, I let them be and returned to the small stage in time for Locke and a hazy-eyed Nash to emerge from wherever the fuck they’d been—a haze that evaporated as he clocked his cousin.
He tripped over his own feet, rubbing... whatever from his eyes, not quite believing what he saw. “The fuck? You’re supposed to be in Glasgow or some shit.”
Finn grinned, taking a seat on a hay bale and drawing a weathered guitar within easy reach. “Did you think I’d miss this?”
Nash just shook his head and closed the distance between them. “You motherfucker.”
I laughed, loving how Nash could switch from shocked to chill so fucking easily. Loving the brother who’d been a brick wall of support to me from the moment we’d met. That he’d become the love of Orla’s life, one of them, at least, was poetry man couldn’t buy.
Nash returned to Locke.
I found Rubi lounging on a blanket, watching it all unfold while my brother—hishusband—dozed beside him. As much as River thrived on early mornings, he wasn’t built for all-nighters anymore.
Rubi, though. I saw in his eyes that he was tired. We all were. Letting go of Ranger and Viktor had kept us all up through the few hours we could’ve slept. But I saw happiness there too—unfiltered joy, and I felt it in my own heart as I sat beside my oldest friend for a little while.
Finn’s set began, quiet songs in his honey-rough voice, perfect for the tranquillity of this perfect fucking morning. Rubi passed me a joint and I smoked as the music seeped into me, mellowing my thoughts, smoothing any rough edges I’d carried over from the night before.
There weren’t many. I was home. I was whole. What more could I possibly want?
Warmth tingled my skin. The back of my neck, my chest, my heart sensing Saint and Alexei draw nearer.
I sat up, searching for them. Spotted their heads together like I so often did at home, wrapped up in each other under the shade of a tree as close to the slowly growing crowd of early-rising festival goers as they were likely to get.