Page 38 of Summer Skin

A LITTLE OVERan hour later, there’s a knock on Aven’s bedroom door. It’s Chase, a writing notebook tucked close to his chest, hovering in the doorway like a vampire who needs an invitation to come inside. “Hey,” he says, a little quietly, and he looks like he’s maybe a second away from an honest-to-god toe scruff.

“Hey, yourself,” Aven shoots back. “You wanna come sit down?”

Those must be the magic words because Chase hurries over to the bed, scooting close, until he’s practically on top of him, tugging on Aven’s hoodie until his arm drapes over Chase’s thigh.

“Okay, so,” Chase begins, “I wanted to show you something.”

He slides the notebook over, a blue hardback, and, as always, Chase has slapped a sticker on the front. This one features a sandy beach under the sun.

“What is this?” Aven asks, running his fingertips over the soft faux leather.

“Open it,” Chase tells him, nudging his side.

Flipping the cover over, he sees Summer Songs for Aven scribbled across the first page.

“Remember the island where we’d always have summer skin?” Chase asks, and yeah, Aven does. The sunny, make-believe island they’d created where nothing mattered but their love. “This was my version of that.”

Avenleafs through the book, pages and pages of love songs with dates jotted down, going years back.

“These are all songs you wrote for me?”

“For you, about you … it was my way of loving you after I left.”

“There are hundreds of songs in here, Chase.” He fans through the pages, a little in awe. No one’s ever … no one’s ever. Goosebumps take flight across his arms.

“Well, I mean, it’s five years’ worth.”

Aven flips to the last filled-in page, noting the date on top. “You wrote this one today.”

“I did,” he admits quietly.

“You’re still writing me songs?”

“I’ll always write for you.”

Oh dear. And here Aven’s already cried once tonight.

“Baby,” he says, fighting the tears in his throat, and Chase makes a soft noise in response, his fingers lacing with Aven’s. “Will you play me one?”

“I’ll play any of them you’d like,” Chase says, his eyes searching Aven’s face. “But first can we finish what we were talking about earlier? That thing you said about what it means to be open with each other while I’m away?”

Aven nods.

There’s a long silence, and then, “I came back for you. To see if there was any way you’d ever forgive me. I came back to be yours again. Whatever you need to make this work? That’s what I want.”

Aven’s brow crinkles. “Whatever I need? What about what you want? You’ve got more confidence in your right pinkie than you had the entire time we were in high school, but you still won’t talk to me whenever there’s any sort of conflict. I don’t get it, what are you afraid of?”

A hurt expression crosses Chase’s face, but a massive nope to that, if they’re going to make this work, he needs Chase to feel comfortable expressing himself.

“I’m afraid …”

A pause.

“Come on, babe,” Aven tells him, squeezing his hand, “I want to hear.”

“A part of me still worries I’m not good enough for Aven Sinclair.”

“Oh, Chase.” Aven’s grip on him tightens. “Who told you that? Who made you feel that way?”

“I know what your family saw when they looked at me.”

Fuck that. He’ll never let Chase feel unworthy. Because he’s not.

He’s never been.

“You were always good enough for me. Better than me, by miles. I don’t care what anyone besides me saw, Chase. And what I saw was someone who … someone who was everything I’d ever wanted. Someone who made me feel loved.” He scoots closer, seeing tears shining in Chase’s eyes. “Look at me, look at me, baby.”

Chase sniffs, and turns to Aven, meeting his gaze.

“There’s no one in the world who fits better with me than you,” Aven tells him. “There never has been and there never will be. You get that?”

Chase searches his expression, a soft smile slowly growing. “I’m getting there. And you’re right about learning to be honest about what I’m thinking. But it’s not exactly easy for me, you know? Growing up, it wasn’t okay for me to say what I needed.”

“You can tell me anything, Chase. Everything.”

They curl towards each other, and Aven kisses across his hand, one knuckle at a time.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about something you asked me the first time we hung out,” Chase says, nearly a whisper. “You wanted to know where home was.”

“Huh,” Aven says, stroking a hand through Chase’s hair. “I don’t remember, what did you tell me?”

“I said I didn’t have one.”

“Mm.”

“But I want one. With you. Someday, I want a home with you.”

Someday. Aven wants that too. But it hurts to think of all the years stretching between someday and now. The agony of being separated again.

“Just a few more years,” Aven promises, “and we’ll have that.”

“How can we be sure?”

“Because I love you and I can’t imagine I’ll ever stop. Whatever version of you exists at that age, I’ll love him too. I’ve thought about that, you know? Like, now? It isn’t that I’m still in love with who you were. It’s that I fell in love with you all over again.”

A dizzying grin lights Chase’s face. “You said it first this time.”

“Said what?”

“That you love me. I’ve been waiting for you to say it.” Nuzzling in, he presses a kiss to Aven’s mouth. “And I love every piece of who you are, too.” He taps a thumb on the notebook sitting beside them. “I brought this up here because I wanted to show you that I’ve never stopped loving you. Not even when I was certain our relationship was six feet under.” He slips a leg between Aven’s, tangling their feet together. “I want us to make this work.”

“We will,” Aven replies, as certain as he’s ever been.

Chase may have needed to go out there and find his own confidence, but Aven needed to grow up too. To stop being the boy whose parents paid for everything, who expected everything to turn in his favor. And he may live in a run-down house with three other adults, and might buy off of the dollar menu a little too often, and dress in worn-out jeans, but he’s earned all of this on his own. Through his music, and that’s something he needed to learn. Something that will only make him more of an understanding partner to Chase. A better partner.

His hands search for Chase’s hips. Tugging him closer, he closes his eyes, nudging his nose into the crook of Chase’s neck and breathing him in. Here, in the arms of the man he loves, he can pretend for a little while longer that this could be their every night. That this is their home.

Their life.

Together.