we were apart, we will always be a team. All five of us.”
“We weren’t going to make the same mistake this time,” Harley says.
My throat feels thick as I try to swallow, and I glance at Denver, wondering if he feels the same way. “Denny?”
He’s been quiet, not having said a word since I stepped inside this house. He’s barely even looked at me. His eyes finally lift, and as he pierces me with his aqua gaze, I’m hit with clarity and guilt and regret all at once.
Everything—the industry, Cameron, Eleven, even what Denver and I have—all of it is bigger than me and my stupid fear of failure and isolation.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt at the same time he says, “I should have asked you to stay.”
“What?” I ask.
“I didn’t want to talk about it last night because I didn’t think I could change your mind, but knowing you were going to walk out of my life, I didn’t want to run away again without talking about it first. Because …” He bites his lip and looks at the others and then back to me.
I spare a quick glance at Harley, Blake, and Ryder, just long enough to see their confused expressions, and then my gaze is back on Denver.
“Last time, I thought I was in love with you. This time, I know I am.” Someone gasps, but Denver ignores them and keeps talking. “I’m not going to give you up without a fight. That’s what I did two and a half years ago, and like Harley says, we’re all here because we’ve learned from past mistakes.”
Fuck. I drop my bag and cross the room, rushing into Denny’s arms. “I’m sorry.”
Everyone leaves him in one way or another, and here I am doing the same because of stupid fears and insecurities about him and the rest of LA doing it to me first.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I murmur into his neck. “And …” I breathe him in and hold him tight because the millions of apologies aren’t enough. So I build the courage to say the words I’ve only ever said to one other person before she ripped my heart out. But I remind myself this is Denny. My feelings for him might be new, but our bond isn’t. “I love you too.”
He freezes in my arms and goes statue still.
I pull back and cup his cheeks. “Did you hear me?”
“Say it again.”
“I love you.”
Then his mouth is on mine, and kissing him is like second nature now. I’ve memorized the feel of his lips, his commanding tongue, and the way he pushes against me just that little bit harder than anyone else would. Everything seems right with the world.
Until Blake’s voice cuts through the din. “I, uh, get the impression Denver left a lot of the story out when he told me Mason was leaving.”
We should probably deal with that.
Denver tries to keep kissing me, but I gently break away from him to face the others. I don’t go far, though. I pull him into my side and hold tight because I never want to let him go again.
Harley and Ryder blink at us and then at each other as if asking in silent question, “What are we looking at right now?”
But Blake is on the end with his arms folded. “I don’t know whether to be happy for you guys or mad.”
“Mad?” Ryder asks. “What, are you pissed you’re the only straight one?”
I love that Ryder doesn’t feel the need to question us. It’s so him. He has always been of the mind that anyone can fall for anyone, though. He’s definitely always been fluid-focused, putting sexuality on an ever-moving spectrum.
With Denver and me, it seemed like a natural progression, but when labels get thrown around, I’m uncomfortable and uneasy because of reasons I don’t understand. Societal standards maybe? The notion we have to have everything figured out being shoved down our throats?
“I’ve been hanging out with Jordan, and he’s adamant there was something going on with you two at the club,” Blake says. “I said he was crazy. Even made a bet with him. Please tell me you’re at least staying closeted so I don’t have to do his movie.”
Denver laughs. “You bet the movie role?”
“I didn’t think I’d have to take it!”
“Well, maybe you still won’t.” I turn to Denver. “He’s right, isn’t he? It’s not like we have plans to come out at all. If ever. These two haven’t.” I point at Ryder