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Cassius

When Elton goes all out, he goes all out .

Renting a ritzy hotel pool—along with an entire catering staff—for his best friend’s birthday is a bit extra. I remember Rhys telling him he wanted something low-key, but I guess Elton didn’t get the memo. Or maybe “low-key” includes having the hotel build a stage in the center of the pool?

As I shoulder my way through the crowd, I’m thinking Rhys can’t have this many friends. It’s not that the guy is an asshole, but he’s definitely too grumpy for his own good. I wouldn’t put it past Elton to have paid extras to fill the space. He’s standing by the entrance of the pool, reminding Butch that he doesn’t have to play the bodyguard tonight. I snicker as I pass them, because there’s no way Butch is actually going to enjoy himself. Pretending that the world is just so damn cruel, Knox broods beside them, but the way he links his pinky with Elton’s while his husband goes on and on is kind of cute.

I make my way around the pool, up-nodding people I know as I pass, and smile when I see him.

My sunshine.

In one of the pavilions, he lounges back as he scrolls through his phone. His little skimpy suit shows too much, highlighting his perfect little cock nestled underneath the bright green fabric, and I resist the urge to whip off my T-shirt and throw it at him. When he sees me approaching, he immediately drops his phone and gives me his full attention, sitting up and reaching for me.

“Did you get me the drink I wanted, Cassy?” he asks, wiggling in his seat.

He scoots over and I sit beside him. “Yes, sunshine. Somehow, they had that tropical vodka you liked.”

As he takes the drink from my hand, his beautiful dual-colored eyes light up. “Ooo, yay! Thank you!”

“Just one,” I warn him as I kiss the top of his purple head. “You have to work later.”

He rolls his eyes but flushes. I know he likes how overprotective I am. But can you blame me? When your best friend is someone as precious as Skylar, how do you not want to just stick them in your pocket so they can be safe forever?

“What were you doing?” I ask as I move behind him, reaching for his shoulders to drag him against my chest. “Let me see.”

Without any argument, he shows me his phone, and I chuckle when I see he’s been looking at videos again. Chances are, if I pull out my phone, I’ll have approximately seven from him already. I rub his shoulders as I nibble on the top of his ear. “Which one was the funniest?”

“Oh! You’re going to laugh!” He scrolls back up with excited fingers. “It’s a snail on the hood of a car, but they used photoshop to make him scream.”

I do laugh at the caption: when life is just too much . I’ll have to save that one to look at on a rainy day. I sigh contentedly, lying back and bringing him down with me, and just enjoy having him in my arms. “How are you holding up?”

I shouldn’t ask, but Skylar seems relatively okay, considering the circumstances.

James or Jim or whatever the fuck his name was broke up with him a few days ago.

I’ll never say this to Skylar, but I’m glad that asshole broke up with him. That guy was a royal piece of shit, constantly talking down to my best friend, making him feel like he isn’t good enough. He never appreciated how special Skylar is—how perfect—and every moment I spent watching whoever-the-fuck-he-is shit on him was like a stab to the heart.

Of course, when Skylar got the breakup text, he freaked out. I hate that him crying his eyes out after a breakup isn’t a rare occurrence. There’s been man after man who has let him down. Too many men who have used him, discarded him, and treated him like trash. Men who fell for how fascinating he is but were too stupid or insecure to appreciate him. I don’t know why, but it’s always Skylar’s luck. He chooses men who will only break him until he’s nothing left but shattered pieces to glue back together.

And every day is torture waiting for him to choose me.

“I’m okay,” he whispers, but even though I can’t see his face, I know that’s a flat-out lie. When I don’t answer, he turns his head and tries his hardest to smile. “I’m being serious. All is good.”

I grunt. The latest fucker told Skylar he loved him. I knew it was a load of shit the second I heard it. There’s no way that man loved him and treated him the way he did. The guy loved the idea of Skylar. Like a possession to keep. A flower to display until it withered into nothing. Either way, I know deep in my gut that no one will ever love Skylar the way I do. Wholly. Without conditions. Without restraint.

I just wish he would love me back.

But I’m a coward. I don’t dare tell him that I love him as more than a friend, more than a chosen brother, more than myself. I’d do anything for Skylar, including loving him at a distance until he finally realizes I’m the one for him.

“Is this thing on?”

Both Skylar and I look toward the stage in the pool. The band that was playing isn’t there anymore, but Rhys is. He’s standing uncomfortably, holding a microphone, and looking like he wishes he could be anywhere else.

He clears his throat before speaking. “Well, thanks everyone for coming. I didn’t realize Elton was going to do something…like this .”

“What’s that supposed to fucking mean?” Knox shouts, very growly as he defends his husband’s honor.

Rhys glares at him, but continues. “Anyways, thanks to everyone who’s here. This past year has been absolutely crazy, and I wanted to take this opportunity to thank the person who got me through it.” He turns and looks at Everest, who’s standing at the edge of the pool. “Baby, thank you for everything you do for me. I really couldn’t get by without you.” He gulps, and even from here, I can see him flush. “Which is why I need to ask you something.”

Everyone gasps when Rhys gets down on one knee and pulls out a little box from his trunk pocket.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!” Skylar shouts as he jumps out of the seat. “He’s proposing, Cass!”

“I see that, sunshine,” I mumble, gently yanking him back beside me.

“You’re everything I want, Everest,” Rhys says, and fuck me, there are tears in his eyes. “I love you more than words could ever describe. I know we’re both still young, but if those crazy fuckers”—he shoots Knox and Elton a look—“can get married, so can we.”

“I got you, bro!” Elton shouts as he jumps up and down, his excitement barely contained by Knox’s hand around the back of his neck. “Fuck yes, Everest! Say yes!”

Skylar throws in his two cents. “He hasn’t even asked yet! I think—” He’s cut off as I place my hand over his mouth. Those mismatched eyes of his throw me a deadly glare, but I shrug. When I take my hand away, his voice has dropped to a whisper. “If Rhys didn’t want audience participation, he should have asked in private.”

Well, he has a point there.

Rhys doesn’t look a bit flustered at everyone’s commentary, looking only at Everest, and smiles. “Everest Hill, will you marry me?”

Everest, with tears in his eyes, nods shakily. “Yes, Rhys. I’ll marry you.”

The partygoers erupt in a loud array of hoots and hollers. Claps ring around us as Rhys jumps into the pool and swims toward the edge. He pops up right in front of Everest and reaches out a hand to show him the ring. With one hand over his heart, Everest lets Rhys put the ring on his finger, then screams when his now-fiancé drags him into the water.

I join in on the celebration, clapping loudly, but stop short when I hear a sniffle.

Oh, fuck no.

Skylar is clapping, but my poor sunshine can’t hide the tears in his eyes that are definitely not tears of joy. Shit, I knew he wasn’t over the breakup. Thinking quickly, I stand and drag him along with me, rounding the back of the pavilion so we’re hidden from everyone else. There’s no way I’m letting anyone see him cry.

“Sunshine.” I try to wipe away his tears. “It’s okay?—”

“It’s not okay, Cassius!” he sobs, dropping his face against my chest. “I’m so happy for them, but I’m so sad. I don’t know what I did wrong for him to break up with me.”

I suck in a subtle breath. Soothing him as best as I can, I rub his back, scraping my nails lightly against his skin in the way I know he likes. Still, it does nothing. His wails only grow louder, and I’m powerless to stop them.

“Why would he break up with me?” With tears trailing down his cheeks, he pulls his head back so I can see his puffy, wet eyes. “Is there something wrong with me?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” I snap rather harshly, which only causes him to cry even harder. I curse myself and drop my voice to a whisper. “The guy was an asshole. You deserve better.”

“Cass, I…” He starts scratching at his arms. It’s a tic of his he doesn’t even realize he has. He rakes his nails down his skin until it’s red and raw, tender with the way they cover the scars underneath.

I hate it when he does that. Taking his wrist, I stop his movements. I drop my lips against the white scar on the inside of his arm, then trail my mouth up over every raised surface, until I reach the crook of his elbow. “Don’t do that, sunshine.”

A little calmer now, he sniffles. He likes it when I kiss away his pain. Kiss away the memories of how we grew up.

If only the butterfly kisses would mean more to him.

“I thought he was different,” he mumbles. Peeking up at me, those beautiful dual-colored eyes shine with pain. His hands start to wander the way they do when his heart is broken. Over the little tattoo of a sun on my chest, down my sides, over my hips. It’s torture. “Why didn’t he want me?”

I know I should keep my hands where they are, but I’m so weak for him. He’s touching me the way one would touch a lover—gentle and tender—but he doesn’t mean it that way. We’ve been like this since we were kids. Always touching. Always together. Never apart. Like we share the same breath and would die without the other.

“Because he’s an idiot,” I murmur, threading my fingers through his purple hair and scratching at his scalp. “You’re too good for him.”

“Do you think I’m a whore?” he questions with a tremble in his lower lip. “That’s what he said. I didn’t think that shirt was slutty. I didn’t mean to hit on anyone. I just wanted to look nice.”

Fuck me . I love him so much. I shouldn’t, but I do. The innocent love he has for me shouldn’t be tainted by my wants. Still, I can’t resist. It isn’t unusual for me to cup his cheeks like I do now or to bring his mouth inches from mine. “You looked beautiful.”

He sinks into me, our mouths open and breathing each other in. Our noses brush, back and forth, a touch of affection.

“I’m sad,” he admits as another tear tracks down his cheek. “I thought he was the one.”

A knife splits my stomach from root to tip. I’m the one . I want to scream it. To beg him to love me the way I love him. But I have to bide my time. He’ll be mine. He’ll choose me. Skylar doesn’t do well when pushed, so I’ll wait.

I’ll let him take and take from me until I’m stripped bare, and I’ll come back every time for more. But I don’t blame him because he doesn’t understand what he’s doing to me. I know everything about him. Every fear and every insecurity and every tell.

“There’s”—a kiss to the corner of his jaw—“nothing”—my lips land on his cheek—“wrong with you.”

I do what I do every time he needs me. Even though it kills me. Even though it fills me with false hope. Even though it costs a bit of my heart every time.

I smash my lips against his and let him fucking take.

Take and take and take.

Because I’ll give him all of me until there’s nothing left, and even then, I’ll find bottomless depths for him.

My sunshine.