Heartbeat Repeating - E.M. Lindsey Page 0,53

no other reason why he’s such a heartless bastard.

“We get together once a year, on the anniversary of her death.” He bites his lip a little and tries not to hear Connor’s voice—happy and adjusted, though he’s powerless against it. Especially because Connor somehow knew Avery could be more, and Alejandro is still fighting against that. “He’s been angry with me for a while because he wanted us to do it on her birthday. He wanted to celebrate her, but I wasn’t ready.”

Avery hums again, drags his fingers through his hair again, then again. Then again. Alejandro closes his eyes, and he feels the rumble of Avery’s next words as he presses in close. “Do you want to go eat? Garrett just popped his head in, so I think that means the food’s ready.”

Alejandro breathes deep and takes the out. He lets Avery go with a reluctance that almost does him in, but when he stands, Avery takes his hand and gives him a look of utter and absolute challenge.

I fucking dare you to pull away.

Alejandro lets him have it. He merely gives those fingers a single squeeze, and then he allows Avery to pull him into the dining room where there’s a small spread before them. It looks like mostly sweets and latkes, and he thinks the plate at the end is fried cheese sticks. He glances at Avery, who is staring out the window, and then he puts one hand into his pocket as he releases Avery’s.

Neither of them say a word, but Alejandro follows Avery into the sitting room and watches as he digs into the small bag he hadn’t noticed before. He pulls out a box of candles and sets one in the center and then one on the far left.

Beyond him, the window is getting darker with the setting sun, and Alejandro vaguely remembers the candle lighting happening around sunset or…just before. Just after? He wants to resolve to be a better, more attentive person, but what’s the point.

For now, he can just do this. He can just be here.

Avery produces a lighter from his pocket—it’s some cheap thing that looks like it came from a gas station register, and Alejandro is curious about it for only as long as it takes to light the center candle. And as Avery uses that to light the second one, he begins to sing. It’s fast, hurried, the words most definitely not in English.

They catch in the back of his throat and then rush to the front of his tongue. The curve and curl over syllables entirely foreign to him, but they sound like actual magic on the melody that pours from Avery in a rush.

It ends before he has a chance to process what Avery might have been saying. The lights glow against the glass, making it look like four flames are dancing. Avery steps back, and Alejandro is there waiting to wrap around him.

The moment feels charged and important, but quiet and gentle on his nerves the way things haven’t been in so long.

It’s so entirely different from what he’s used to. He sometimes misses Christmas with his family, but it’s never been soft like this, and god, he needs it like he needs air. He can’t stop himself from leaning forward and dragging his nose along Avery’s temple. He can’t stop himself from opening his lips and closing them around the shell of his ear then pressing a kiss behind it. He can’t stop his hands from digging into Avery’s hips and holding him so, so tight.

“Are you hungry?” Avery asks, breathless.

Alejandro closes his eyes. “Yes,” he says. He’s starving, in so many ways.

13

Letting Go

Avery knows it’s a little cruel to sit at the table and eat. He can feel Alejandro’s want radiating, and the fact that whatever’s going on here, he’s given in to his desire to touch and be touched. But he does need the reprieve, because this whole thing feels like there’s a massive clock ticking down to the explosion that destroys him. And while he might be ready for it—because he will survive it—he’s not looking forward to feeling all the pain that comes along with it. So, he’s going to drag out these moments. The quiet ones where there’s just peaceful silence settled between them.

He surveys the table as they sit, and it makes him smile. The dinner is unconventional and nothing like his parents would have prepared. Garrett was sweet but clueless. There’s no meat dish, just a pile