together, he couldn’t quite squash the wave of relief that rolled off him at the sight of Denver. “What are you doing here?” Laramie asked, keeping his voice low so as not to wake anybody.
“I’m not sure.” Denver took the seat next to his brother, scanning his face for signs of illness. “What about you? What’s going on?”
Laramie bounced his leg impatiently, looking away from Denver. “Nothing.”
So, it was going to be one of those conversations, where Denver had to fight for every word. He rose long enough to retrieve their bottle of whiskey and two small glasses. Once they each had a drink in front of them, he tried again. “Are you feeling okay?”
Laramie hesitated for a fraction of a second too long. “I’m fine.”
“The machine’s working, right?” They’d had a bitch of a time reassembling it after using it to smuggle contraband. “The meds Doc gave you are good?”
“Yeah,” Laramie said, and Denver was relieved to hear sincerity in his voice. “It isn’t that.”
“What, then?”
Laramie sipped his whiskey, stalling as he debated what to say. “You and Cherry Cola…”
Denver couldn’t even bother to be mad. It was all he could do to keep from smiling. “What about us?”
Laramie sighed, sounding utterly defeated, and shook his head. “Nothing.”
A single word, but he sounded so forlorn that Denver reached out and took his hand. “Talk to me.”
Laramie closed his eyes, as if looking at Denver while he spoke was more than he could take. “You don’t even notice, do you?”
“Notice what?”
“That I’m gone.”
Denver blinked, taken aback. “Of course I notice. How could I not notice?”
Laramie chuckled, but it was a choked, sad sound. “It’s funny, you know. It used to be you complaining about this to me, and I understood, and yet… I didn’t realize what I was doing to you. I didn’t realize how it felt. But now that the tables are turned?” He shook his head again. “I feel like I’m going mad.”
Denver clutched Laramie’s hand tighter. “I don’t understand what you mean. You’ve been with Ginn. You’ve been blocking me out—”
“I haven’t.” Laramie finally met his gaze. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I haven’t locked you out at all. You’re the one locking me out.”
Denver sat back in his chair, too stunned to speak. “I couldn’t. I can’t. We both know that.”
“You couldn’t in the past. But now, ever since… ever since him,” he practically snarled the pronoun, “it seems like you’ve found a way.”
Denver opened and closed his mouth more than once, fumbling for what to say. What finally came out was, “Because of Spence?”
That at least earned him the ghost of a smile. “God, now that we’re this close and feel how gooey you go inside just saying his name, I think maybe it’s better this way anyway.”
“Better what way? Laramie, I swear to you, I’ve never tried to block you out. Not with Spence. Not ever.”
“And yet you have.”
“I still hear you when we’re all in the room together. The day we left Titan—”
“But not since then.”
“Because of you. Because of Ginn—”
“No, Denver. You’re the one holding yourself apart.”
“I couldn’t have.” Right? Not without knowing, certainly. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. I tried to call you the other night. And then tonight. I was in here, and—Jesus, Denver, I miss you, you know? I really do.”
“I miss you too. Every day.”
The confession seemed to give Laramie a bit of strength. “Well, I was in here all by myself a few hours ago, thinking about how we haven’t even talked in ages, so I tried to say, ‘come have a drink with me,’ but you never heard.”
“When?”
“You were watching Pinocchio. I mean, I didn’t know that at the time, but later, I heard ‘I’ve Got No Strings’ from the hallway.”
“But—”
“The first time, I thought maybe it was just a fluke, you know. But it isn’t. When you’re with him…” His cheeks turned red, but he didn’t turn away. “I can’t reach you.”
Denver swallowed, overwhelmed by the realization. He’d never been able to block Laramie out, even on the rare occasions when he wanted to. “I didn’t realize.”
Laramie clenched his jaw but didn’t say anything.
“Is that why you hate him so much?” Denver asked.
“Yes.” Laramie sighed, turning his half-empty glass in slow circles on the table. “No.”
“Which is it?”
“I don’t hate him. Not anymore. I mean, even without quite connecting to you, I feel…”
Denver’s cheeks started to burn as he imagined what Laramie might be picking up from him.
“I feel the way he