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“Gah!” The yell was loud and startled the cats. Well, Gimlet didn’t move but both Gremlin and Ghost shot out from where they were hiding and tore ass through the apartment. We both ignored the cats. Wren threw up his hands. “You really are a big, dumb idiot.”

Okay. This wasn’t exactly how I pictured this conversation going. And the pain in my chest would have worried me if I didn’t know with absolute certainty it was my heart breaking. I’d have to figure out how to get past these feelings so I could keep him in my life. As my friend. Because there was no way I was letting him walk away completely. I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t live without Wren Paxton in my life.

“Have you ever even listened to my music?” There was that incredulous tone again.

“Of course,” I responded instantly. “All of it. On repeat. I know every….word–wait a minute.”

“Maybe you’re not that stupid,” he muttered under his breath.

His songs were about heartbreak and longing, about love that was just out of reach. Not all of them. Some of them, like Bonfire Hearts, was a party anthem about being surrounded by the best kind of people, but a good majority of his catalogue was about love and not getting it.

I sucked in a sharp breath, my gaze never leaving his. “Dislocated Heart?”

All I got in response was a single nod.

That nearly brought me to my knees. The thought that I had made him feel those things, feel as if I'd never feel the same about him yet he'd never be free of that torturous love, made my stomach sink and my heart jump into my throat. When I stood to go to him, my legs couldn’t hold me and I dropped to my knees. It was where I belonged anyway.

“Oh, baby,” I breathed, the pain threatening to undo me. “I’m so sorry.”

“Well, if you didn’t know….”

He was being generous. The kind of pain and longing in that song, the desperation, came through with every word, every chord. The first time I heard it, I was so proud of his storytelling ability. Now that I knew he was writing from experience? I should be taken out by a firing squad for hurting him that way.

A thought occurred to me and I squinted at him. If my tone was accusatory, I couldn’t be blamed. “You never said anything!”

That got a hint of a smile and he threw up his hands. “Tell me how you tell your best friend you’re in love with him, when he’s never shown any indication that his feelings were anything more than friendship, and if it all went south you lost the only real family you’ve ever known!”

His voice rose at the end, and I almost chuckled, because I loved seeing that passion on him. I was still on my knees, which was starting to feel ridiculous, but I wasn’t going to get up. Not yet. I did smirk though.

“Maybe if you’d said something,” I began, trying for logic. “I would have figured out my shit years ago instead of thinking I was ace.”

Wren scoffed. “See above.” He pointed upward like his words were written above his head.

My smirk grew to a grin, he smiled too, and a second later we were both laughing. Damn, but he looked good, as though a weight was lifted off of him. I hadn’t even realized it was weighing him down until it was gone. Not that I hadn’t realized there was something underneath, but it had been there so long, I just assumed it was how he was. Turned out, I’d been the cure all along.

“Well, we can’t fix the past,” I said when I got myself under control again. “The only way is forward. So where do we go from here?”

Wren took the steps necessary to get close to me, and he put a hand in my hair. It was longer now than when I served, but not by much. I couldn’t imagine I’d ever be comfortable with hair longer than a couple of inches again. I’d spent too much of my life in a high and tight. He massaged my scalp for a few seconds, then cupped my cheek.

“First, you get up off your knees,” he murmured.

I waggled my eyebrows. “I thought you’d like me on my knees.”

He smiled, for just a second, and then his expression smoothed out. “Too soon, Bode. I’m gonna need some time to wrap my head around this. It’s a big shift, and I didn’t have a bathroom revelation like some of us.”

I smirked and surged to my feet, which made him startle, but he didn’t move back. I wrapped him in my arms, holding him tightly, then lifted him up. I got one hand under his ass, and hoisted him a bit higher. He latched on, wrapping his legs around my waist.

“See this,” I said into the skin of his neck. “This right here. This is where you belong. This feels right.”

“Yeah,” he said, then inhaled. “You always smell so good.”

I couldn’t help the feeling of pride. Which was dumb, really. Wren liking the way I smelled wasn’t anything to be proud of. Then again, I always liked the way he smelled too. Like fresh laundry and bergamot. I never even knew what that was until I accidentally smelled it in an oil and I had to figure it out.

I kept hold of him while I walked backward to the couch, then sat down, keeping him in my lap. Wren folded his legs on either side of my hips and seemed content to stay right where I put him. For a long time, we just held each other and breathed, each of us thinking about what had happened and what was going to happen going forward. I was content to just sit in the silence with him, holding him close, and soaking it in.

Eventually, Wren pulled back to look at me, not going far but as though he had to see my face. I skimmed my hands up his body, loving the little shiver it elicited, and cupped his face. He closed his eyes for a moment, seemingly absorbing that feeling, before opening them again and focusing all that pretty blue on me.

“This is a lot, Bode.” His voice was soft, barely more than a whisper, as if he was afraid to talk too loudly and break whatever was between us. “I’ve wanted this, you, for so long that it’s going to take me a minute to really wrap my head around it.”