Page 41 of The Bro Date (Best Bros Forever #2)

Toby

O ur apartment in Brooklyn is seven hundred and fifty square feet with one bathroom and a cute little balcony.

We have a tomato plant that’s thriving out there, too.

Miss Edna, our next-door neighbor, gave it to us as a welcome-to-the-building gift.

You should see her porch; it’s an urban garden like I’ve never seen before.

Our bedroom, living room, and kitchen are all in the same area, so there really isn’t any privacy, but it’s perfect. It’s ours.

We’ve been in Brooklyn less than a week, and we both already love it, seeming to fit right in.

The city is bustling and truly never sleeps, filled with artists hungry for work and amazing food joints on every block.

Glenn set Shane up with a job at a swanky new French bistro on Fifth Street called La Belle.

I’m not talking to my parents right now, so as far as I know, they aren’t even aware I’m in New York.

But they haven’t stopped the direct deposits into my account every month.

Bo and Gran made it very clear that I could always reach out to them for help if my parents decide to take things further and cut me off financially.

I’d only do that in a last-ditch effort because they’re retired, and I don’t want to take any of their hard-earned retirement money away from them when it has to last.

My phone buzzes while I organize the orchestra’s supply room. It’s not the most glamorous part of my internship, but if it’s what they need from me, then I will alphabetize the cleaning products and rearrange the toilet paper every day if it means I get a chance to practice on stage with them.

I check who’s calling before I answer and see that it’s Shane. “Hey, babe,” I say with a smile.

“Wanna meet in the park for lunch?” Shane asks, the sound of clinking dishes and people shouting in the background nearly overpowering his deep voice. “I miss you.”

Brooklyn Bridge Park is our go-to meet-up spot. Shane always packs the food, and we lie out on a blanket, enjoying the sun and a little slice of nature in the middle of the city. Afterward, we walk along the water and take in the expansive views of the Lower Manhattan skyline.

“I miss you too. That sounds great,” I say, setting the last roll on top of my toilet paper pyramid.

“I’ll bring lunch. Meet me at our bench at noon.”

“Okay. See you then. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Shane ends the call, and I slip my phone back into my pocket, wishing lunch would hurry up and get here.

Two hours of organizing sheet music later, and it’s finally time for lunch.

I grab my messenger bag and rush out of the door and down to the subway station a block away.

It was a little daunting to manage at first, and I had to call Shane to come find me on more than one occasion, but I’ve gotten the hang of it now.

I’m at the park before I know it, smiling as a panoramic view of the East River and Lower Manhattan comes into view. The midday sun sparkles on the water’s surface while cars zoom across the bridge, completely oblivious to this little slice of heaven down below.

I see him as I get closer to the water’s edge.

My boyfriend.

Dressed in all black and still wearing his chef’s coat, Shane is perched on our favorite bench, facing the water.

“Hey,” I say, ghosting my fingers over the back of his neck as I walk around and join him on the wooden bench, giving him a quick peck.

“Hey. How was your morning?” he asks, digging into the brown paper bag he brought from La Belle.

“Can’t complain. I’m in New York,” I respond with a smile, accepting the wrapped sandwich he hands me. “You?”

“Busy, but same. I’m really happy, Tobes. The happiest I think I’ve ever been.” He rests his hand on top of mine, squeezing gently.

“Me too,” I murmur, biting back the tears and facing the extraordinary view in front of us. “Me too.”

I hold up the handmade sign with Tate and Daija’s names on it, bouncing on my toes in the middle of the airport.

I’m so excited, I can hardly contain myself.

Shane surprised me by having my best friends visit for the weekend.

“Ahh! There they are!” I shout, holding the sign above my head and waving it to get their attention.

They squeal when they see me, running over with their luggage flying behind them.

“ We missed you! ” they both shout in unison, enveloping me in a group hug.

“I’m so proud of our baby gay,” Tate says, pressing a hand to his heart. “All grown up and in the big apple with his boyfriend.”

“Our little hatchling has flown the coop,” Daija teases, wiping a fake tear off her cheek.

Warmth fills my heart and my face.

“Sooo,” Tate drawls with a mischievous little smile. “Do you still use your fake ID? Because you know we would fuck shit up in NYC, honey.”

Shane side-eyes the three of us, and we burst out laughing. “Absolutely not,” he growls, folding his arms across his chest and furrowing his dark brows. “I’ve got a reservation at a respectable cocktail lounge in SoHo.”

Tate loops his arms through mine and Daija’s, smiling up at Shane innocently. “Well, that sounds like fun, too.”

We take an Uber back to the apartment since Tate and Daija have luggage with them.

It’s a tight fit, but they’re staying with us both nights and sleeping on the couches.

I give them an extremely short tour, and then we start the logistical nightmare of four people getting ready to go out for the night. It’s not ideal, but we make it work.

I step out of the bathroom, freshly showered and completely dressed.

“Fit check!” Tate yells way too loudly, making Shane glower at him.

“ Oh my God! ” Daija squeals. “The outfit is giving, and the body is tea!” She twirls her finger, indicating I should do a little spin.

I indulge my friends and turn around slowly, showing off how great my ass looks in these tight white jeans.

My linen shirt is unbuttoned at the top, revealing smooth, tan skin.

I make eye contact with a dark, possessive stare, and electricity crackles along my skin, fueling the desire growing inside me.

“Alright, you two! No hanky-panky tonight when we’re all sleeping in the same room,” Tate teases with a snicker.

“Oh, shut it,” I say weakly, swatting at him with a laugh. “Wouldn’t you like that?” I tease right back.

“Babe. You know I would. That’s some dream porn right there.”

“ Oh my God! Tater tot! Stop it!” Daija laughs, shaking her head.

She’s sitting on her heels at the kitchen table with a portable makeup mirror, painting on the perfect winged liner.

She’s wearing a bright red romper with gold necklaces, bracelets, and beads throughout her braids.

She looks incredible as usual. Jake would die.

“You look beautiful, Daija. You should send Jake a pic,” I say, effectively changing the subject from Shane and I fucking.

“Ohhh. Yesss,” Tate agrees. “Lemme take it.”

“Fiiine. One sec,” she mumbles, peeling off her lip tint and applying the gloss. “There. All done.” She smacks her lips, slips into her stilettos, and hands her phone over.

“Pose for me!” Tate hollers.

I quickly slide the curtains open, a burst of sunlight brightening the room, and an incredible view of the city filling the backdrop.

Daija poses a few different ways while Tate snaps a million shots.

“One of those will be good,” he proclaims, handing the phone back. “You’re gonna make that poor boy nut in his shorts.”

The entire room erupts into raucous laughter, even Shane.

I have a feeling tonight's going to be one to remember.

“It’s been an absolute blast this weekend,” Daija says with a frown and a hug. “Shane, thanks for planning everything.”

Tate sighs. “What she said. I never want to leave. This gay was made for the city.”

“Thank you guys for coming. I had so much fun.” I don’t know why I feel so emotional when we’ll see them back at school in another month. Shane throws an arm around me, pulling me into his side.

“Sure you don’t want us to ride with you to the airport?” Shane offers, always in protector mode.

“We’ll be okay. Thanks, though,” Daija says with a sweet smile, wheeling her suitcase across the sidewalk and over to the waiting car. “I really do love it here. The vibes, the atmosphere, the people. Everyone we met was so inspiring.”

“I just thought of something,” Tate suddenly says. “You know what the perfect future would be?”

“Are you plotting ways to move to New York?” I ask with a smirk.

“ Duuuh. ” He rolls his eyes and fluffs his curls. “So, I have a plan. A business plan. Get this—a one-stop shop wedding service. Daija and I will be the event planners, Shane the caterer, and Toby will provide the music. Think about it! It’s perfect. ”

I glance around and see the wheels turning in everyone’s heads.

That’s actually not a bad idea at all.

We developed such a comfortable routine here that our tiny little studio in Brooklyn feels like home now. The only reason I can stomach leaving and going back to Crescent Bay is because we’re moving into our new apartment off campus as soon as we land.

We left our vehicles at the house while we were in New York, so we took an Uber from the airport to our new apartment and stopped at the leasing office to pick up the keys.

Jake and Spencer are coming over later to bring our boxes and one of the cars.

I don’t care if we won’t have our new furniture delivered for two days; we can sleep on the floor in a pile of blankets for all I care.

I’ll be happy as long as I’m with Shane.

“Home sweet home,” Shane whispers into my ear, wrapping his arms around me from behind as we step into the foyer of our brand-new and completely empty apartment.

“ Home sweet home, ” I repeat softly, my smile slowly growing as I peer around at our future. “I love you,” I tell him earnestly

“Love you too, butterfly,” he murmurs, and it still feels like a dream to hear it back from him sometimes.

My best fucking friend.

Forever.