We’d apparently rendered Rebel speechless, because he just glanced between us, a pink tinge creeping across the bridge of his nose.
“Thanks,” he muttered, the pierced tip of his tongue poking out to lick his lips. “And thank you for bringing the pizza.”
“The pizza you two will pay for, and don’t even think of reaching for your wallets,” I replied, grateful to take the conversation back into more comfortable territory for him.
Seeing his reaction was eye-opening, though. When I’d lectured him on his behavior and gotten all over him for his balcony stunt, he’d struck back with defiance and snark. It hadn’t dawned on me then that all he’d taken it as was me ragging on him. He hadn’t understood that it had come from a place ofconcern. Still didn’t. I’d have to do a better job of showing him going forward so he’d never have a reason to question that the only thing I wanted was for him to be safe so I could have him back in my arms.
On the couch, I sat on one side of him while Kit sat on the other; he and Rebel immediately reached for pizza slices and shoved the tips in their mouths.
“Mmmmm,” Rebel sighed dramatically around the food in his mouth as he bit off a piece. “This is heaven.”
The words were slightly garbled by the food and half drowned out by Kit’s obscene moan on the other side of him. This was food porn at its finest, and my jeans were already growing tight.
“What’s it going to be tonight?” I asked, since the guide channel was already open on the television, like they’d been in the middle of choosing what to watch when I’d arrived.
“Fuck if we know,” Kit replied. “We were still trying to scroll past all of the reality television to find the movies.”
“I’ll never understand why someone would want to have cameras following them around, poking into every corner of their lives,” Rebel said. “But it's especially mind-blowing when I see musicians doing it. Like, dude, what the fuck? After all the time we spend dodging cameras and trying to stay out of the dirt rags, why would you sign up for that shit?”
“Damn, I think it would be fun to follow you around with a camera all day,” Kit snarked.
“You I’d be fine with; you’re not going to share everything you see with the fucking internet.”
He hesitated then and shot Rebel a shit eating grin. “I mean, if the price is right...”
“If you weren’t holding a slice of pizza, you’d get a pillow to the face,” Rebel declared.
“Yeah, no pillow fights with the pizza involved,” Kit replied. “This is too damned good.”
“How about no pillow fights until after the pizza has settled unless we want to see it paint the walls,” I offered, cringingbecause once again, I sounded like their bossy babysitter instead of their…
Their?
Well, shit.
It was clear they were a package deal, even if they hadn’t outright said it yet. It hit me that I was fine with that. When I was with them, I was at ease. Laughing with them came without thought; everything was just effortless. It didn’t matter if we were watching movies together or one was playing on mute while they worked; their presence had a soothing effect on me, keeping old memories at bay.
“I’m good with that,” Rebel said. “It wouldn’t taste half as good coming up.”
“How does Point Break sound?” I asked, pausing on the movie.
“Original or remake?” Kit asked.
“Mmmm,” I leaned to get a closer look at the tiny-ass print beside the title. “Original.”
“Works for me,” Kit said.
“Me too," Rebel added, a loud crack sounding when he turned his head. “Ahhh, nice, I’ve been trying to do that all day.”
“Owe!” Kit moaned. “How does that not hurt?”
“Because my neck was tense before and now it’s not,” Rebel said. “I kept worrying that something else was going to happen after we got back on the road.”
“That blowout really triggered you, didn’t it?" Kit said, reaching up to cup the back of Rebel’s neck and slowly rubbing it.
“It was more like the spin,” Rebel admitted.
“There was a spin?” I asked because nothing in the texts I’d received had mentioned anything about the bus spinning.