Page 7

M isha drove like someone who'd learned in Paris traffic, which meant we made it to Columbus in record time. Leo sat pressed against me in the backseat, my arm draped around his shoulders as he scrolled through social media. I buried my nose in his hair, breathing in my shampoo on his skin, satisfaction curling in my chest at how thoroughly he smelled like me.

The territorial part of my brain that catalogued all my possessions had long ago filed Leo under essential . But this wasn't just about possession anymore. That much had become clear last night when I'd felt something shift inside me, something I was still struggling to name.

He was paying more attention to his phone than to me, and I felt an unfamiliar twinge of something that might have been insecurity. I plucked the device from his hands mid-scroll, earning a small sound of protest.

"You can have it back when you learn to pay attention to what matters," I murmured against his ear, sliding the phone into my pocket.

He shivered but didn't argue, just looked up at me with those dark eyes that always seemed to see right through me. "And what matters right now?" he asked, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

The question caught me off guard. Leo rarely challenged me like this. Not before last night, anyway. But something had changed between us. The shift was subtle but unmistakable, a new confidence in the way he met my gaze, in the slight lift of his chin.

"You," I admitted before I could think better of it. "Us. Whatever this is becoming."

His expression softened, and he leaned into me more fully, his head resting against my shoulder. "I'm right here," he said simply, then added with a hollow laugh, "Not like I have anywhere else to go, anyway."

I winced. I'd almost forgotten the brutal reality that had brought us here in the first place. Someone had tried to burn Leo alive. Had destroyed everything he owned. Had taken his home, his possessions, his safety.

My arm tightened around him, something fierce and protective surging through me. "You'd always have a place with me." I brushed my thumb across his cheek, noticing the dark circles under his eyes that spoke of too little sleep and too much trauma. "We're going to find who did this, Leo. And they're going to pay. I promise you that."

His eyes held mine, searching for something. "I know. That's what scares me a little."

"What does?"

"How far you might go." He didn't look away, didn't flinch from the darkness he knew lived inside me. "How far I might let you go."

The honesty in his voice made something twist in my chest. He saw me—really saw me—and wasn't running. Instead, he was worried about what we might become together, the damage we might do in pursuit of vengeance.

I kept him pulled tight against me, one hand idly stroking his throat, marking time by the steady beat of his pulse under my fingers. He melted into my touch exactly as I'd anticipated, his body responding to me in ways that satisfied something primal in me. A need to claim, to protect, to control what belonged in my orbit.

But there was something else now, too. Something that made me want to be gentle with him, to earn the trust I saw in his eyes rather than simply demanding it.

Thank fuck he finally let himself want me. Two years of watching him hold back, of seeing him wrestle with the desire he thought he had to suppress… It had been exhausting. Now I could touch him whenever I wanted, could feel his pulse jump under my fingers, could watch him try not to squirm as I traced patterns on his skin. But I was increasingly aware that my own feelings were more complicated than I'd initially thought.

Last night had shown me that. The way my body had responded to him, the unexpected arousal I'd felt watching him come against my thigh… It was forcing me to reconsider everything I thought I knew about myself. About what I was capable of feeling. I'd told him I was asexual months ago, believing it with absolute certainty. Now I wasn't sure of anything except that Leo made me feel things I'd never thought possible.

"Earth to Xavier." Misha's voice pulled me back to the present. "We're here. Want to text your sibling, or should I?"

"I got it." I pulled out my phone, already dreading Xander's response. My most dramatic triplet had strong opinions about fashion, and none of them aligned with Leo's preference for comfortable, practical clothes. But Xander would lose his shit if he found out we went shopping without him.

I had the monthly stipend from Algerone burning a hole in my account, ready to be spent on whatever Leo needed. My biological father might be a psychopathic crime lord, but his guilt money spent just as well. Whenever I needed extra funds for my hunts or for taking care of what mattered to me, Algerone was only too happy to provide. Our relationship was transactional at best and toxic at worst, but I had long ago decided to use whatever resources he offered without letting it mean anything.

Sure enough, Xander burst out of his ranch house like he'd been waiting by the door. Probably had been knowing him. The modest single-story home with its weathered brick exterior and slightly overgrown lawn was quintessential Columbus suburbia, the perfect cover for an operative of Xander's caliber. The only hint of their true nature was the state-of-the-art security system I'd helped install last month, and the reinforced front door. Today they were wearing a flowing maxi dress that probably cost more than my bike, paired with combat boots and enough silver jewelry to set off metal detectors.

"Finally!" They yanked open the passenger door and slid in, careful not to catch their dress in the door. "Tell me we're starting at Easton. I have plans ."

"Jesus, Xander," I said, eyeing the excessive silver jewelry adorning his neck, fingers, and ears. "You planning to set off every metal detector in the mall?"

They shot me a wicked grin, fingers absently toying with one of their chunky rings. "You like? These are Swarovski." They tilted their head to show off an elaborate ear cuff that I knew concealed a lock pick set.

"Right," Misha snorted from the driver's seat. "And I'm sure those rings aren't basically brass knuckles."

"They're fashion that functions," Xander replied with mock offense. "Don't be jealous that I can accessorize and assassinate in the same outfit." After a few minutes, Xander turned in their seat to study Leo and me, their eyes missing nothing. "When were you going to tell me about..." He gestured between us with perfectly manicured nails.

Leo tensed.

I kept my face carefully neutral. "There’s nothing to tell."

"Bullshit," Xander retorted cheerfully. "You've been watching him like he's the last piece of tech on earth for two years. I want details."

"I don't watch people," I said automatically, even as I felt something hot and uncomfortable crawl up my neck.

"You absolutely do," Misha chimed in, catching my eye in the rearview mirror. "It's been physically painful to witness."

Leo shifted beside me, and I could sense his curiosity. "Has it really been that long?" he asked quietly, just for me.

I swallowed, suddenly exposed in a way I hadn't anticipated. "Shut up and drive, Misha."

The mall was already busy despite the early hour. Leo pressed closer to my side as we walked in, shoulders hunched slightly, like he was trying to disappear into the hoodie he'd borrowed from me. I kept a hand on the small of his back, both protective and possessive.

We hit Nordstrom's at Xander's insistence, and Leo stood by while Xander and Misha piled clothes in his arms. I watched him, frowning at the tightness around his eyes, the way his fingers fidgeted with the hems of shirts. All signs of his discomfort.

"Too much?" I asked quietly, as Xander debated the merits of different cuts of denim with Misha.

He gave me a grateful look. "A bit. I'm not used to this much attention."

I nodded, understanding immediately. "Go try those on," I said, gesturing to the small pile he'd accumulated. "I'll handle Xander."

Relief flooded his face. "Thanks."

I waited until he disappeared into the dressing rooms before turning to Xander. "Ease up. He's overwhelmed."

Xander raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Wow. You've really got it bad, don't you?"

I didn't answer, which was answer enough.

"So what exactly is happening between you two?" Xander asked, their voice dropping to ensure our privacy. "Because last I checked, you weren't exactly into... well, anyone. You literally told the entire family you were asexual at Thanksgiving three years ago."

I shoved my hands in my pockets, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. "It's complicated."

"I've got time," Xander said, leaning against a clothing rack and dramatically examining their nails. "Uncomplicate it for me. Use small words so my tiny, fashion-obsessed brain can follow."

I shot them a glare, but Xander just smirked, completely unimpressed. They'd been immune to my death stares since we were six and I tried to intimidate them into giving back my stolen Halloween candy.

"I don't know what it is," I finally admitted, the words feeling foreign in my mouth. "Last night was... different. We were in bed together after the fire, and things happened. Not sex, but... something.”

“You’ve done stuff with people before,” Xander pointed out.

“Yeah, but that was like… kinky stuff. This was…” I shrugged. “I don’t know. Sweet.”

Xander cocked his head to the side and stared at me like I’d grown a second nose. “Oh my God. You totally had vanilla sex, and it weirded you out!”

“It wasn’t…” I lowered my voice to make sure it didn’t carry thorough the store. “I told you it wasn’t sex .”

But Xander was having none of it. They pretended to pull out their phone. "Hello, CNN? My brother's dick finally woke up after twenty-three years and get this… Vanilla is his kink. Yes, I'll hold for the breaking news team."

I rolled my eyes. “You’re the worst.”

“I try ,” Xander said, rearranging a stack of overpriced beanies like they had a vendetta against wool. “But explain this—how do two emotionally unavailable code gremlins spend two years sleep-deprived and not realize they're in love? You guys have been orbiting each other like two confused roombas with unresolved sexual tension.”

I winced. “It’s not like that.”

Xander snapped their fingers. “Classic deflection. You’re flustered. You never get flustered. Not unless someone’s messing with your code. And Leo? He’s got that ‘I accidentally saw my best friend naked, and it changed me’ energy going on.”

I coughed. “He did not see me naked.”

“Okay, but like... something happened,” Xander said, squinting at me like they were loading a mental spreadsheet of clues. “Did you two cuddle? You cuddled, didn’t you? Oh my God, is that what this is? Emotional aftershock from platonic spooning ?”

“It wasn’t spooning,” I said too fast.

Xander blinked, and a slow, evil smile spread across their face. “Okay. Now I’m interested.”

“I didn’t mean—” I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Look. We were both wrecked, okay? The fire, the smoke, the adrenaline crash. We were lying there and… it just felt safe. Close.”

Xander gasped. “You cocooned . You did that weird burrito blanket wrap thing you used to do with stuffed animals.”

“I didn’t cocoon.”

“You so cocooned.” They wiggled their fingers like jazz hands. “And let me guess… there was deep eye contact. Lingering touches. A brush of fingers that accidentally became hand-holding and now you’re having a full-on identity crisis.”

I looked away.

“Oh my God ,” Xander whispered, scandalized. “Did you hand-hold your way into a sexual awakening?”

“Xander.”

“Wait, don’t tell me,” they said, holding up a hand like they were conducting an orchestra. “Let me guess. There were soft noises. Tension. A gaze that lasted one second too long. Maybe even a forehead touch—”

“Okay, enough ,” I hissed. “This isn’t a fanfic.”

Xander grinned, absolutely delighted. “But it should be. Your repressed yearning arc is gold. Honestly, if I didn’t love Leo so much, I’d write it myself.” They flicked my arm with perfectly manicured nails. "So, what's the real problem here? That you got hard for the boy you like? Or that it’s Leo and you’re freaked out over losing your bestie?"

I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated that Xander could cut straight through my bullshit as always. "Both? Neither? Fuck, Dee, I've built my entire identity around being ace. Made peace with it. And now..."

Xander made a disgusted sound and tapped the back of my head.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“For being a dumbass,” he said simply. “Sexuality and your understanding of it can be fluid. For example, I used to think I was straight.”

I arched an eyebrow.

They sighed dramatically. “Okay, so that’s a lie, but I did think I was cis. Once. Maybe twice. But that’s not the point. The point is, you’re allowed to redefine yourself as often as you want. There are lots of identities even within the ace umbrella, my bro.”

“I know that. It’s just…” I dragged a hand down my face, frustration building again. “It didn’t just feel good. It felt… right. Like I’ve been waiting for it and didn’t know.”

“Aww.” Xander smirked, leaning back. “Xavier got the Boyfriend Feelings Patch.”

I shot them a look. “We didn’t even have sex.”

“Didn’t say you did.”

“It was… him. Touching me, being with me. He... he came on me, and I—” I hesitated, unsure how to say it. “I let it happen, Xander. I was holding him. I didn’t make him beg or... or do any of the shit I usually do. I just... held him while he... let go and that was… That was enough for me.”

Xander’s eyes widened. “Oh, that’s adorable! You, Mr. ‘I’m-the-Alpha-top-in-every-scenario’ got undone by a sweet, cuddly gamer boy and you can’t admit it because that’d make you soft !”

I scowled, but there was no denying the warmth spreading in my chest. “Shut up. It wasn’t like that.”

“It was exactly like that,” Xander teased, grin widening. “You’re just too much of a control freak to admit you’re into the vanilla side of things. I mean, Leo’s not even begging for you to fuck him, but you’re still letting him have his way with you emotionally. That’s cute, man. You’re so whipped .”

“ We’re in public, ” I hissed, my voice too sharp.

Xander leaned back, arms crossed, clearly loving the discomfort they were causing. “I mean, you can deny it all you want, but I see it now. You’re into him more than you thought. And that soft stuff? That’s your kink now, Xavier.”

"I hate when you're the reasonable one," I muttered.

"I know," they replied smugly. "I savor these rare moments when I'm the emotionally intelligent triplet. Don't worry, I'll go back to being a chaotic disaster as soon as this conversation is over."

"It's just..." I hesitated, finding it hard to articulate the storm of emotions churning inside me. "I'm scared, Dee."

The admission cost me, but Xander just nodded, understanding without me having to explain further. We'd always had that—an almost supernatural connection that let us communicate without words.

"Duh," they said, flicking my forehead. "Of course you are. You're stepping into the unknown. But Leo's worth it, isn't he?"

I looked toward the dressing rooms where Leo had disappeared. "Yeah. He is."

"Good," Xander said, patting my chest. "Now go get your man before I decide he'd look better in my collection of skintight clubwear instead of these boring button-downs."

Before I could respond, I caught sight of Leo emerging from the dressing room, looking uncertain in a deep blue button-down that fit him perfectly. The color made his skin glow, emphasized the breadth of his shoulders in a way his usual baggy clothes never did.

Something possessive and proud unfurled in my chest at the sight of him. Mine, my brain supplied automatically. But there was something else too, a warmth that had nothing to do with possession and everything to do with the shy smile he gave me when he caught my eye.

"What do you think?" he asked, adjusting his glasses nervously.

I crossed to him in a few strides, my hands moving without conscious thought to straighten his collar. "Perfect," I said, my voice rougher than intended. "You look perfect."

The flush that spread across his cheeks was fascinating. I'd always been good at reading people, at finding their weaknesses. But with Leo, those reactions weren't data points to be exploited. They were treasures to be collected and safeguarded.

"I'll go change back," he said, starting to turn away.

I caught his arm. "Wait." Without asking, I slipped my hand behind his neck and pulled him close, pressing my forehead against his. "I like seeing you like this," I admitted, the words barely audible. "Confident. Happy."

His eyes widened slightly, surprise giving way to something warmer. "Even if I'm not in your clothes anymore?"

"You can always borrow my hoodie," I promised. "But I like seeing you in things that make you feel good about yourself, too."

He looked at me like I'd given him something precious, and maybe I had. Permission to be himself, to want things for himself—not just what I wanted for him.

"Get a room, you two," Xander called, reminding me we weren't alone.

I stepped back, but kept my hand on Leo's lower back. "We're getting that shirt."

"And the other five I picked out in different colors," Xander added, appearing beside us with an armful of additional options. "Plus these jeans that will make his ass look fantastic."

Leo looked slightly overwhelmed again, and I squeezed his hip reassuringly. "Go ahead. Try them on. I'll be right here."

He nodded and disappeared back into the dressing room, this time with Xander's selections. Once he was gone, I turned to find Misha watching me with undisguised amusement.

"What?" I demanded.

"Nothing," he said, holding up their hands in mock surrender. "Just never thought I'd see the day when Xavier Laskin turned into a lovesick puppy."

"I am not—" I started, then cut myself off when I realized how defensive I sounded. "Whatever. Fuck off."

Misha just laughed. "It's cute. Terrifying, but cute."

I flipped them off and leaned against the wall outside Leo's dressing room, trying to sort through the riot of emotions I'd been experiencing since last night. What if I wasn't asexual after all? What if I was... what had Leo called it? Demisexual? The word felt too neat, too categorical for the complex tangle of feelings I was experiencing. But it was the closest I'd found to describing this strange new reality where my body responded to Leo in ways it had never responded to anyone else.

The door opened and Leo emerged wearing dark jeans that hugged his thighs in ways that made my mouth go dry. He'd paired them with one of the deep green button-downs Xander had selected, the color bringing out flecks of gold in his brown eyes.

"Well?" he asked, turning in a slow circle that gave me a perfect view of how the jeans emphasized the curve of his ass. "Xander said these make my butt look good, but I think they're too tight."

"They're perfect," I said, stepping closer, unable to resist reaching out to adjust his collar again. "You look... edible."

“Ok, if you say so,” he said, blushing again.

As he closed the dressing room door behind him, I leaned against the wall and tried to make sense of the unfamiliar sensations coursing through me. Desire, yes. But also tenderness. Fear. Hope. A complex cocktail of emotions that defied easy categorization.

For someone who prided himself on control, on understanding every variable in any given situation, this uncertainty should have been terrifying. And it was, in some ways. But there was also unexpected freedom in it. In admitting that I didn't have all the answers. That Leo and I would have to figure this out together, one step at a time.

I pulled out my phone, ignoring another knowing smirk from Misha, and opened my notes app. Created a new list titled "Leo" and began typing:

Likes wearing my clothes

Responds well to physical touch

Needs reassurance about his body

Wants clear communication about boundaries

Deserves better than I know how to give

I stared at that last item for a long moment before deleting it. That kind of self-doubt wasn't productive. Instead, I added:

Deserves my best effort

Deserves honesty about what I'm feeling

Makes me want to be better

Leo emerged from the dressing room with his selections, and I quickly pocketed my phone. He caught my eye and smiled, his earlier nervousness replaced with something that looked like quiet confidence.

"Ready?" I asked, holding out my hand.

He took it without hesitation, his fingers intertwining with mine. "Ready."

I pulled out the black credit card Algerone had given all three of us, a constant reminder of the complicated relationship with my biological father. I might despise everything he stood for, but I had no problem using his resources to take care of what mattered to me.

"You guys are actually disgusting," Misha observed as we made our way to the checkout, but he was smiling. "Both of you."

"Don't you forget it," I replied, squeezing Leo's hand.