Better Than People (Garnet Run 1)

Charlie lived a ten-minute drive away and aside from Jack’s directions, they were quiet. Simon did multiplication in his head in an attempt to keep out any what-ifs. He was struggling through 128 times 267—Simon wasn’t actually terribly good at math—when Jack said they were there.

The house was clearly a work in progress. A central part looked mostly completed, but to each side raw wood framed in new structures.

“Wow, he’s made a lot of progress,” Jack said. “I haven’t been here in a few months.”

He caught Simon’s hand before they got out of the car.

“Simon. Look at me, please.”

Simon looked into dark blue eyes that had become so familiar to him. Jack had a few days of copper stubble glinting over his jaw.

“No matter how things go with my brother, it won’t change anything for me. You know that, right?”

Protests crowded one another out in Simon’s head.

“I love my brother, but I—” He bit his lip. “Just, you can not talk to him and have five panic attacks and I’ll still—I won’t—”

Simon had never seen Jack at a loss for words before. He squeezed Jack’s hand and watched his eyes go soft and unsure.

“I want you,” he said simply. “All the time. I... I care about you so much. Please tell me you know that.”

Simon only vaguely registered that Jack was squeezing his hand so tight it was slightly painful. All he could focus on was that soft, needing look in Jack’s eyes. The look that said he truly wasn’t sure his feelings were understood. And maybe reciprocated.

But Simon did know. Everything in the way Jack acted around him showed him that.

“I know,” Simon said. “Me too.”

A slow grin brightened Jack’s face.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Then Jack was kissing him, tender and hot.

“Good,” Jack said fiercely, pressing their foreheads together. “That’s good.”

* * *

Jack was a large man, but Charlie was massive. He looked like the sized-up xerox of Jack—a bigger, rougher version. When he reached to shake Simon’s hand, though, his grip was firm but gentle.

“Hi, Simon. I’m glad to meet the guy who finally dragged this grouchy ass out of his self-imposed exile.”

“Hi,” Simon said. But it came out thin. His ears were buzzing and his throat felt so dry he could hardly swallow. He was too nervous. He had known he would be but refused to capitulate and now here he was, standing in front of the brother of the guy he lo—

Just as his heart began to race, the largest cat Simon had ever seen ambled into the room. It was black with gray markings, fur-tufted ears, and a huge bushy tail. It rubbed its face against Charlie’s leg and meowed, a sound like tearing metal.

“This is Jane,” Charlie said as Simon bent down and offered his knuckles to the cat.

Jane. Apparently being bad at naming animals ran in the Matheson family.

Jane eyed Simon for a minute, then deigned to butt her head against his fist.

Simon wanted to sit on the floor with her, cuddle her tight to his chest, and bury his face in her luscious fur. He didn’t think that would go over too well with Charlie or with Jane, so he stroked between her ears and avoided looking up.

“Meatloaf?” Jack asked, sniffing.

“Spaghetti and meatballs,” Charlie said.

“Yum.”

“You’d eat anything,” Charlie said lightly.

Simon thought of the horrid tuna casserole and grimaced.

“Hungry?”

The question lingered in the air long enough that Simon realized it must have been directed at him. He nodded and stood up, giving Jane a final pat to the top of her fluffy head.

On the table was a comically large bowl of spaghetti and meatballs. The things looked the size of Simon’s fist and he would’ve bet they were the same recipe that Charlie used to make meatloaf. This was clearly a man accustomed to cooking hearty food for people who ate a lot. Was this how it was when Jack was young? The two brothers sitting down to devour a huge serving bowl of food like Lady and the Tramp?

“You’re an animal person too?” Charlie asked. Simon nodded and smiled.

“When Jack was little he used to lure chipmunks inside with birdseed and try to keep them as pets.”

Simon thought that was adorable, but Jack rolled his eyes.

“They liked me,” he said.

“They liked your birdseed. And to burrow under the carpet until the door opened again and then run out and leave you thinking they’d died somewhere in the house.”

Jack muttered like he was still resentful about it.

“So what do you do, Simon?”

Simon’s heart rate picked up. He went to step one: logic.

That is a completely normal getting-to-know-you question. There is nothing to be worried about. You know the answer to this question. You’ve answered it a hundred times before. No problem.

“G-g-graphic d-design,” Simon got out, then clamped his mouth shut.

“He’s so good, bro. Hey, you should have him do a new website for the hardware store.” Jack turned to him. “You’d laugh your ass off if you saw this website. It’s from like 2003.”