said with a shake of his head. “Pop, for real, how’s the cabin?”
And he looked a little concerned, like he thought I was deflecting something with the jokes. Coffee in hand, I sidled up to Raven and swung my arm around his shoulder. He sighed, leaning against me as he pulled up the financial spreadsheets I’d asked him to prepare for the church meeting.
“It’s great,” I said, my voice a little lower. Jazz and Joker were busy in the kitchen now, rooting around for an easy breakfast like high schoolers in a rush. I sighed and admitted, “But it feels like something’s missing. I haven’t quite put my finger on it yet. I think I just need to get used to the quiet.”
Raven pressed his lips together, visibly turning that sentence over in his mind as his hands hovered over the keyboard. Of course he couldn’t just let the comment slide—he was like his dad. Probably trying to figure out what I meant, and what he could do to fix it.
I was so blessed to have Raven here, in the club. He was so smart—he could’ve gone anywhere with his skills, and he chose to stay here with his family. Still trying to take care of me, even though I was the parent. I ruffled his hair like I used to do back when he was a kid.
“Pop,” Raven said with a huffed sigh. “Quit it.”
“Can’t help it, kid,” I said. “You look so much like your dad.”
Raven’s expression softened.
“He’d be really proud of you,” I said, my voice valiantly steady around the tightness in my chest. “Now come on, send me that spreadsheet so I have time to review it before church.”
“Morning,” Gunnar boomed as he hustled down the stairs, his hair still damp from his shower.
Raven rubbed briskly at his eyes. “Hey, there’s coffee.”
Gunnar furrowed his eyebrows at Raven, then at me. I stepped away with a small smile, and Gunnar swooped in and wound his arms around Raven’s shoulders from behind him, then dropped a kiss to Raven’s temple.
“Spreadsheets that bad?” he teased gently.
“Yes,” Raven said with a pout, but it broke quickly into a smile. “They’re awful.”
I knew later that night, Raven and Gunnar would be debriefing our conversation, and Raven would be trying to figure out how he could improve the cabin. Or just what I meant. The thought warmed me, honestly, even though I didn’t want Raven to worry. Raven had a tendency to get trapped in looping, anxious thoughts, especially about things he couldn’t control. But now, much to my relief, he had Gunnar to break him out of those spirals. They were such a perfect fit. I’d had my hesitations when they’d first started to circle each other, but once Gunnar had gotten his head out of his ass, it was clear they were meant to be together.
“Hey, guys,” Heath said with a smile as he shouldered the door open. He was laden down with boxes from Stella’s. “Dante’s on his way in a bit, he’s just wrapping up some prep, but he wanted me to bring these over for y’all and for the meeting. He said he and Mal would be over in a couple hours.”
I glanced up at the sound of Mal’s name, like Gretel when she heard the word ‘treat.’ Then I immediately flushed with embarrassment, even though no one had noticed the way I looked up.
It was ridiculous, the effect just hearing Mal’s name had on me. Being around Mal always boosted my mood—he had such a warm, comfortable presence—and recently, I’d started to look forward more and more to the time we got to spend together. The comfort I felt around him had slowly been transforming into something warm and unexpected curling in my gut. Something that felt a lot like desire.
I wasn’t ready to tackle that feeling yet, though. How could I want someone else when I still missed Ankh so badly? Of course, I knew Ankh would want me to move on and be happy, but it didn’t feel right—not yet, at least. And wanting Mal in this way felt like I was taking advantage of his friendship. How could I know I wanted Mal for Mal, and not just because he’d been a pillar of strength for me throughout my grief? It was all so tangled up—grief, guilt, loss, gratitude, and desire.
The confusion only made me miss Ankh anew.
I took a steadying breath and refocused on the present, and the current descent of club