Joe’s resolve breaks. Mine does too. Our bodies explode together in a desperate hug. It’s of the bone-crushing variety. Fingers clawing, bodies meshing together. So fierce and protective I never want to leave his arms. I shudder at his touch. I feel him shaking too. He strokes the back of my head. I weep until I run out of tears. Time evaporates into the atmosphere. Then I remember his shoulder is not mine to cry on.

Pulling away, I drink him in. I now know why I was drawn to Dom the first time we met. Both brothers have the same eyes. Marble blue, with gray dots.

Neither of us mentions that I stopped answering his texts and calls. That I disappeared from the face of the earth. I imagine he puts two and two together.

“I’m just glad you’re okay. Alive and safe. I wondered about that, you know,” I croak. His face turns steely again when he remembers how abruptly we parted ways. He takes a step back, putting space between us. “I’m sorry I—”

“Don’t,” he says, cutting me off. “You had a lot on your plate. And it’s for the best. We were kids. We rode the hormone train together. You got off first. Not your fault. It sucked at the time, but I got over it. I’m a big boy.”

It rips me open when he says that, even though I know it shouldn’t. Guilt consumes me. I feel horrible that Joe has to see his brother and me together. But I also feel terrible that Dom, unbeknownst to him, inserted himself into this messy situation.

“I’m happy with Dom,” I say quietly. Maybe happy is not the right word. I haven’t been happy in a long time. But existing hurts less when Dom’s around.

“Great,” he says matter-of-factly. “That’s great. Dom’s a stand-up guy. He is kindhearted and responsible and, well, the better-looking one, if I’m honest.”

My nostrils flare. Why is he like that?

Like what? Loyal to his big brother and refusing to throw himself at you?

“Look, it’s no one’s fault it happened this way.” I don’t know why I’m saying this. He knows. He knows this is all a terrible coincidence.

“No. Now that I know why you disappeared, I can’t fault you for it. But even if you didn’t have a good reason, I’m hardly crushed.” An amused, crooked smirk touches his lips. I want to die. Perish. “It’s a surprise, is all. But we’re going to be grown-ups about it, so no harm done.”

“Well. We should probably tell him about what happened . . . ,” I say.

“Oh, Ever. Please.” Joe throws his head back and laughs. “I appreciate your overactive moral compass, but there’s nothing to tell. We fucked.”