Page 44 of Code Word (The Atrous #3)

Maddox snorted. “How can you have a completely digital career but not have social apps on your phone?”

I grinned at him. “It takes a certain kind of skill.”

“It takes a special kind of social media manager,” Luke said, and they laughed.

“Anyway,” Steve said. “The song’s a hit, but the Bluke-shippers are at war over who the song is about.”

Luke looked at me and smiled. He slung his arm over my shoulder. “Let them fight.”

Steve made a face. “Well, there’s also talk about paydirt for proof. Photos, that kind of shit.”

I sighed and Luke’s hand went down my back. “Great,” I grumbled.

Maddox groaned a pissed-off sound, earning a look from me. He met my gaze and sighed. “That means people following you, your every move. You’ll probably need some security.”

“Yep,” Jer added.

Steve nodded and I let my head fall back. “Well, we had a good run at normality.”

Luke pressed his forehead to my shoulder, but he never said anything.

Wes and Amy brought Benny up from the beach. “Hey, guys,” Wes said to Maddox and Roscoe .

I put my hands out. “B-b-b-Benny and the Jets.”

She ran straight for me and I picked her up. “Unca Bake make sandcastles?”

Her vocab was much better now, but she still called me Unca Bake and I never wanted that to change. I tickled her tummy. “Best idea ever.”

Wes sighed. “She has no off button, so good luck with that.”

So we made sandcastles while Wes and Amy took a break, and everyone chilled on the patio. Before too long, I heard Luke fire up the grill, and soon afterwards, the smell of grilling meat and seared fruit made me realize the time.

“That smells like dinner,” I said, then held Benny’s hand while she stomped on our castle—the best part of sandcastle building—and Amy took her in for a bath.

I helped Luke at the grill.

And by help, I mean, I stood behind him, kissing the back of his neck while sneaking chunks of mango off the hotplate.

I don’t know where he found the recipe or the ability to make the sauce he basted on the fresh mango before he grilled it—spicy, salty, even a little sour, but paired with the sweetest mango on the planet. It was so freaking good.

We ate sitting around the patio table, fairy lights picking up the slack when the sun finally disappeared. It was just like old times, the way we talked shit and laughed.

Benny fell asleep on Wes and he took her in and put her to bed. He came back out with Luke’s guitar, sat down, and strummed a few chords. “We shoulda got some of the good Mexican tequila,” he sang.

Jeremy made a dry retching sound. “Never again. Tequila is banned forever.”

Maddox snorted. “Oh yeah, from that night you drank half a bottle of tequila straight, fell into the pool, cracked your head open, and almost drowned.”

“Don’t remind me,” Steve mumbled .

“Hey,” Jeremy said indignantly. “That was the no-going-back night. The ‘holy shit, I have feelings for a guy’ night. If it wasn’t for the head trauma, I’d never have kissed you the next day.”

Everyone laughed. “Thanks, babe,” Steve said dryly.

“Okay,” Jeremy asked. “Luke, tell us all when you first realized you had a thing for this idiot.”

I waved. “Uh, this idiot is sitting right here.”

Everyone kinda waited for Luke to answer. In the end, he groaned. “Remember Mrs. Galani’s music class in ninth grade?”

The guys all sort of nodded, but it was Wes who reacted first. He leaned forward, eyes wide. “Ninth grade? You knew back then? You knew you liked Blake since way back then?”

“Jesus,” Jeremy whispered.

“That’s like, the same as me,” Maddox said. Then he made a disgusted face. “When I kinda figured it out. Not that I liked Blake, obviously.”

“Gee, thanks,” I said.

“And you never said anything? All these years?” Maddox asked. “When the media used me being gay as clickbait, when Jeremy went through the whole Steve-sexual thing? You never said a word.”

He wasn’t mad. There was no malice in it. Just curiosity.

“Because I told myself I wasn’t. Back in ninth grade, I just thought I was infatuated with Blake because he was my best friend. He was cool, could play any instrument, was funny, hot.”

“It’s true. I was,” I said. “Still am.”

Luke’s soft eyes met mine. “I just thought it was teenage infatuation, hormones—I didn’t know. It was barely a bisexual litmus test. I was fifteen. Hell, the wind changed and I popped a boner.”

Roscoe choked on his beer, and everyone cracked up laughing .

“And then I found girls,” Luke added with a shrug. “We were on tours at sixteen, seventeen, and it was easier to pretend that part of me didn’t exist. I was with Blake every day, every night; it wasn’t like I was deprived of his attention. It was just... platonic.”

“It’s not platonic anymore,” I declared.

Luke shoved my arm. “I tried dating, and we all know how that worked out.”

I made a sad face. “Poor Vana. I never did apologize to her for looking her dead in the eye and kissing the top of your head when she told me she was leaving you.”

They chuckled, but Luke sighed. “And then the wheels fell off rather spectacularly, and we all know how that ended.”

“I dunno. I think my wheels falling off was way more spectacular,” I said, almost wistfully. “Which we were all witness to. You’re welcome.”

Jeremy put his hand up. “Um, if this is a contest on spectacular, I almost died twice, and then a psycho tried to finish the job.”

Maddox snorted. “Uh, excuse me, by definition of spectacularity, one might deduce it requires an audience, and when my wheels fell off, it was on stage in front of about ninety thousand people. I’m still the poster boy for anxiety. That deserves some accolades.”

We all laughed, and Wes handed Maddox the guitar. “Okay, you win.”

Jeremy gasped. “I almost died.” He held up three fingers. “Three times.”

“How’s your diabetes doing?” Luke asked him. “I’ve been meaning to ask.”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” he replied. “It’s amazing the difference a normal lifestyle makes. Regular meals, sleep. No crazy tours, no dance practice for eight hours a day.”

“No crazy fans trying to kill you,” Maddox said, strumming the guitar.

“No crazy paparazzi.” He strummed again.

“We can kinda go shopping now without it being too much of an issue. Don’t need security anyway.

But there’s nothing like having fans freak out in the supermarket when you’re holding a pack of toilet paper.

” Then he strummed again and sang, “I wish I was joking.”

We all laughed at that.

“We normally get groceries delivered,” Roscoe added. “It was one time.”

“We kinda get left alone now,” Wes said. “At play group and play dates, that kind of thing. One good part about being in Hollywood is that we’re not the only ones who get noticed.”

“It was bad in the beginning,” Amy said. “But they know us now.”

“It was weird trying to do normal things when we first disbanded,” Jeremy said. “Like we had to learn so much as twenty-six-year-olds that most people learn at sixteen.”

“Like cooking,” Steve said. “You’re a great cook now,” he added, looking at Jer. “Cleaning is still a work in progress.”

“It is weird,” I said. “Like buying furniture and stuff. Like actually going into the store and picking out things. Booking plane tickets.”

Luke patted my hand. “He booked economy. He’s still traumatized.”

I snorted. “True. But the good part was no one expected to see me in cattle class, so no one looked twice. I totally got left alone.”

“You also hadn’t slept in two days, hadn’t showered or shaved, and you looked possibly homeless,” Luke said.

“Also true.” I nodded. “But still. I think that’s why I love it here. No one cares.”

“Except they might start caring,” Steve said. “If there’s a paycheck for photos or videos.”

Ugh .

Back to this . . .

“Okay, so I’m only gonna say this once,” Maddox said, “and you can take it or leave it. But about going public. I know, believe me, I know. I’ve ranted at length about not giving the public and the paparazzi ammunition. And up until now, I’d stand by that.”

There was definitely a but coming.

“But?” I asked.

“But if you don’t want security?—”

“We don’t,” I said, then winced at Steve. “No offense. It’s nothing against the security team or anything like that. It’s about needing it. Being a rat in a cage again. That’s what we don’t want.”

“No offence taken,” Steve said. “I totally agree.”

Maddox nodded. “I get that. But what I’m saying is if you post the pictures the media is willing to pay for, then you beat them at their own game. Photos’d be worth nothing to the papzz and the fans who treat you like a meal ticket if you drop them for free.”

“You’re saying we should go public?” I asked. “You? After everything you went through.”

He grimaced and half shrugged. “Well, yeah. That’s kinda the point.

I get why you don’t want to. I do. But the rules are different now.

You don’t have Arlo Kim trying to spin angles for profit, apologizing publicly for ‘disappointing’ fans.

Fuck that. You guys get to choose, and if you don’t wanna go public, that’s more than fine.

But...” he hedged. “Taking control and dictating what gets released is a fuck-you to the papzz, and that’s something I can get behind. ”

Jeremy snorted and spoke to Maddox and Roscoe. “Remember when Luke posted that pic online with you two in the background? I thought Arlo was gonna have a stroke.”

Luke groaned as he covered his face with his hands. “God, don’t remind me. I still feel bad about that.”

I ruffled Luke’s hair, and then I pulled him back so he was leaning against me. I slung my arm over his shoulder, my hand falling over his heart. I gave his pec a squeeze for good measure. “I dunno,” I said. “I kinda thought we’d just post wedding pics and kill the internet once and for all.”

Luke laughed and Jeremy chuckled, but no one else did.

I didn’t. Because I wasn’t joking.

Everyone’s eyes were on me, and Luke sat up and turned to face me. “You were joking, right?”

I shook my head and looked him right in the eye. “Nope. I’d marry you in a heartbeat.”

Luke blinked.

No one made a sound.

Luke blinked again. “Is that something you mighta wanted to talk to me about first?”

“Sure.” I took his face in my hands and kissed him. “Marry me. This weekend, while everyone’s here. On the beach.”

He stared at me, eyes wide. “Blake.”

“That wasn’t a yes.”

Holy shit, that wasn’t a yes . . .

“Oh. Well, I mean, you don’t have to. I just thought... you know. Well, I... fuck.”

Luke laughed and grabbed the front of my shirt and gave me a shake. “And that’s how you’re gonna ask me?”

I was confused... “So, is that a yes?”

He laughed again. “Yes. But,” he held up his hand. “Not this weekend. You gotta put a ring on my finger for at least a year first.”

I grinned, smacked a kiss on his lips, then took the thin metal tie from the bag of limes and fashioned a quick circle, then slid it on his ring finger.

He looked at his hand, then his eyes met mine, shining and happy. “Blake,” he whispered.

“I meant it when I said forever,” I murmured and kissed him again, softer this time .

Until someone cleared their throat.

I looked up then, at the faces watching us. Smiling, shocked.

“So that just happened,” Jeremy said. Then he turned to Steve and shoved his arm. “They’re not getting married before me.”

Everyone laughed. “Holy shit,” Maddox said. “You know, I bet we could find a minister who’s not busy this weekend. Double wedding.”

Luke laughed, still teary, still looking at his awesome new ring.

He didn’t object to the idea, so maybe...

“Here,” Amy said, standing up. She went to the end of the table and held up her phone. “Photo time.”

We all leaned in, smiling to the camera.

I slung one arm around Luke’s neck, and with my other hand, I held up his hand, showing the ring.

Would we post it to let the world know? I wasn’t sure.

Maddox had a point, and I kinda got the feeling that Luke wanted to get it over with.

He wanted the world to know. I’d let him decide.

But not tonight.

Amy smiled at all of us. “Say ‘Atrous forever.’”

And this time, it felt right.

“Atrous forever!”