“It’s not stupid!” Barber’s voice filled the background of the call. “The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtlesis a fucking classic.”
“They’re talking and fighting turtles. Their Jedi master is a rat. It’s weird,” Oli snarked back.
Barber squawked. “Jedi master? That’sStar Wars!”
I smiled despite the ache in my chest. “Will I see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I’ll come home.”
Home. That’s what Ren’s place was. We’d created something together, and I needed to remember how important these guys were to me.
A loud snore ripped through the silence and I snickered at Ren, whose mouth was open. Drool gathered at the corner of his lips.
“Take a picture,” Oli said, voice gentle. “We need to give him shit about it later.”
I laughed. “Deal. Good night, sweetheart.”
He made a small, pleased sound. “Good night, baby.”
The next day came too fucking fast.
I was sitting in Dr. Griffin’s office feeling like the worst fraud to ever exist. Ren had woken up with a massive headache and made himself eggs and bacon. He said it made him feel better when he had a hangover, but I didn’t knowhow. Then again, I’d never gotten that drunk.
He drove me to the psych’s office. Or I drove my Jeep while he was the passenger princess. He made a sound every time he thought I was too close to another car and whined about me braking too late, but there was something familiar about it. He was a true boyfriend in every way.
Now I was here and hated it. I’d been hoping I would see Oli before my appointment, but he hadn’t come home. I’d thought about asking if Ren could come in with me but had brushed away the idea. I needed to do this myself.
I’d already told Dr. Griffin everything. All about football and how I’d drunk too many protein smoothies and how I’d ended up in the ER and even how real food tasted like ash in my mouth—even when it was part of my regimen. And here I was, sitting in the chair needing help.
Dr. Griffin wasn’t a very tall man, but he was as kind as I’d imagined from his picture. He had laugh lines indented in his cheeks and round glasses that sat high on his nose. He was definitely in his thirties, which made this seem easier. He was a full-fledged adult.
“The first step was to seek help. And you are. You should be proud of yourself, KC.” Dr. Griffin smiled and his laugh lines deepened. “Are you proud of yourself?”
“I’m terrified,” I admitted, glancing at the clock in the room. It was an upside-down smiley face that was silly but fun. “I hate that there’s something wrong with me.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Dr. Griffin said in a gentle tone. “Your brain has taken on a thought process that requires some change. The thing about the brain is that everything it does, it does to protect you. Sometimes, it goes about it the wrong way. So, we’ll work on rewiring that thought pattern to where it should be. How does that sound?”
My shoulders slumped in relief. “I’d really like that.”
“Of course.”
Dr. Griffin and I spent another twenty minutes talking about what we were going to do in future sessions before time was up. We booked another appointment for next week, and then he led me out the white door of his office. Ren wasn’t waiting alone. Oli was here, his smile small but supportive.
As soon as I walked out, he stood and brought me into a hug. I buried myself in his embrace, even though he was so much smaller, and took a deep breath as my lungs opened up at his warmth.
“You have some support,” Dr. Griffin said behind me as Ren stood and touched my shoulder. “Good. That makes this journey a lot easier.”
“They’re my boyfriends,” I murmured into Oli’s shoulder.
“I’m glad you have them.”
Me too. Me fucking too.
14
OLI
Revenge Tattoo was packed. If someone had told me Ren was planning to turn this place into a nightclub, I would believe them. I wasn’t sure how this had happened. Sometimes, Ren was just pure chaos and crazy shit congealed around him. Loud rock music blared from the speakers in the corners of the room, and earlier, Wylie and Flint had strung orange-and-black lights around the front window and crisscrossed them along the ceiling until they resembled a spider’s web. Every last person packed in here was in a horror club, and they were all getting jack-o’-lantern tattoos. To keep things spicy, each member had customized their pumpkin.