I gesture over my shoulder and raise my brows.
“Yeah, I get it. He’s a jagged little pill, isn’t he?”
“Watch it,” Tobias snaps, and we both look over at him. He’s completely relaxed, a gin in hand, dressed from head-to-toe in a newly-cut Armani. For a second, I get lost in my attraction, and Jeremy slings an arm across my shoulders.
“Up for a game of pool?”
“I’m going to wipe the floor with your ass,” I promise.
“Either that or she’ll tap your nuts with her stick. It’s a dirty trick.” The sound of Russell’s voice has me turning out of Jeremy’s grip, a second before Russell sweeps me into a hug.
“You ass, I only did that once.”
“Twice, my nuts were counting.”
“Not that you need them. You’ll never settle down,” I say as he glances over at Tobias.
“Well, if he’s not willing to secure you long-ter—”
“Finish that sentence,” Tobias says evenly. “Please, finish that sentence.”
Russell rolls his eyes. “Wouldn’t want you to wrinkle that suit, Hugo.”
Tobias sets his gin on the bar and discards his jacket, rolling up his sleeves, giving me a shot of arm porn. Memories surface of my time here, of days gone by as the burn starts in my throat and Eddie brings out a pitcher of beer as Jeremy racks the pool balls. Stick in hand, Tobias glances over at me and lifts his chin in question as I nod in reply while my emotions threaten to take over just as “Wish You Were Here” begins to chime from the jukebox.
It’s not perfect and not altogether the reunion I hoped for. Some of us aren’t here. But this isn’t then. It’s in my love’s eyes I see the same hint of sadness, and we hold our gaze until we’re both strong enough to break it. For the next hour, I watch the three of them drink and bullshit, chiming in here and there. For the most part, my enjoyment comes from watching the camaraderie from nearly a lifetime of knowing each other, growing up together, a foundation built long ago before me. And while some things change, love remains the same. So we drink to that. We celebrate now, the new normal even as we tiptoe around the absence of a few irreplaceable Ravens—those that have passed and those that moved onto a different present as we all will when our time comes. And our time is coming sooner than later.
But we have tonight, and it’s enough.
Buzzed from a few hours of beers with the boys, I light my red sparkler as the band marches by playing Christmas carols and catch Tobias scanning the crowd for the umpteenth time from where I stand at the edge of the street. When the sparks run out, I walk over to where he sits.
“If this makes you nervous, we can go.”
“We’re covered,” he assures me, his posture rigid as he sits back, bundled in a snowman blanket in a lawn chair we picked up on the ride over.
“Is that why you look constipated?”
“Yeah,” he says absently, and I burst into laughter and join him in the chair, kissing him in hopes of erasing the confusion from his expression. Instead, he tilts his head, returning my kiss, so he’s got one eye on the crowd. Laughing into his mouth, he pulls away and gives a sheepish upturn of his lips.
“We can’t live like this, Tobias.”
“Just give me some time to adjust,” he assures.
“How long?”
“Around seventy years,” he says matter-of-fact, and I shake my head and smile. He taps the plastic arm of the chair and I lift his fingers and kiss them in an attempt to quiet some of his anxiety.
“We’ve got eyes everywhere, so what is it that’s bothering you so much?”