Page 7 of The Sunday Brothers Novellas

“Oh, John, thank goodness you’re home.” My across-the-hall neighbor pulled her door wide as I clomped up the steps to my own apartment like she’d been lying in wait for me. “What is going on with Teagan?” she demanded.

I’d lived across from the woman for nearly two years, and we’d never exchanged names.

But then last winter Teagan had heard her playing “Turn It Off” from the Book of Mormon soundtrack at full volume.

He’d gasped like a Broadway refugee who’d found someone to speak his native tongue and pounded on her door, and now Monica—who was thirty-three, an Aquarius, had three cats of varying temperaments, worked as a labor and delivery nurse, and was seriously considering dying her black hair platinum blonde but wasn’t able to commit—came over a few times a month for what T called “Charcuterie and Show Tunes.”

“Teagan?” I repeated, frowning down at my phone. He still hadn’t answered me. “He seemed fine a little while ago. I think he’s on a Zoom call now. Why?”

“Because.” Monica looked left, then right, then grabbed my arm and drew me into her living room, which was the mirror image of mine. “Because,” she whispered, “we walked in together when he came home from work, but he seemed… off.”

“Okayyyy. Off like when they ran out of oat milk at Campus Connections? Or off , like when Shawn Mendes and Camilla Cabello broke up and he thought he had a chance with Shawn?”

“Neither.” Monica wrinkled her nose. “Worse. Like… like I asked him how his date went last night, and he bit his lip and looked down at his phone and got all gooey-eyed and dreamy. And I was like, ‘Hey, yo, talk to me here!’ And he blinked a bunch, like he was coming out of his own little world, then he said something about how ‘big things’ might be happening, but ‘I’ve gotta talk to John first before I tell anyone else.’”

I shrugged. “He mentioned big news to me, but I have no idea what it could be. He seemed happy about it, though. I don’t think it’s anything bad.”

“Well, there’s bad, and then there’s bad , isn’t there?” Monica mused, which was the kind of statement Teagan would have totally understood on a level I did not . She lowered her voice and said significantly, “He went on a date last night.”

“Yeah, I know. He goes on lots of dates.” Twenty-three. Exactly. “So?”

“Soooo, it was with the guy from the seminar on technology in education last week.”

“Was it?” I said nonchalantly. “I didn’t get details.”

No details other than the fact that the guy’s name was John, just like mine, that Teagan had been gone precisely two hours and fifty-three minutes, that he’d driven his own car, that he’d brought me home some leftover chicken scampi that reeked of garlic, and that he’d looked tired but not disheveled- tired when he’d plunked down beside me on our sofa to watch the news, which had allowed me to finally draw a deep breath.

Any more details would’ve made me a full-blown stalker.

“Well, I’m worried that maybe…” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “It went well.”

I blinked at her uncomprehendingly.

She nodded. “Right? You see what I’m saying here?

So I called Fern immediately, of course—Teagan gave me her number for emergencies, and this fits the bill—and she agreed that we’re at Threat Level Scarlet.

She’ll be here any minute for something I’m calling Margaritas and Mischief Night.

It’s kind of a Teagan-inspired name, which I thought was fitting.

Mrs. Graziella is bringing up some lasagne in half an hour, too, and don’t you worry, because we’re not leaving until we’ve made a plan to handle your situation.

Oooh ! Maybe we can lock Teagan in a room until you have a chance to correct things. Something like that.”

“Lock him in a—? What the heck are you talking about?” I demanded. “Monica, what do I need to correct?”

Monica heaved a frustrated sigh, like I was the one being dense. “This situation that you’ve allowed to occur, obviously! I mean, it’s bad enough that we’ve all been watching you guys do this weird hide-your-feelings dance for yearrrrrs ?—”

“Less than a year,” I corrected. Then belatedly added, “Not that I have… feelings.”

“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes. “Sorry to crush your illusions, but you are the worst feelings-hider in the world, second only to your roommate. The tension has been driving all of us crazy for months, waiting for you to sort your shit.”

Wait, what? “Who’s ‘all of us’?”

“Um. Let’s see. Me. Fern. The Graziellas.

Mr. Sincero from 2 B. Kasim from the market.

Pauline and Jen from the bakery. Um, Stephen and Carl, the ones with the mini schnauzers Teagan liked to pet whenever you guys went for coffee on summer weekends.

” She tapped her lips. “I’m probably forgetting some. Teagan knows a lot of people.”

He really did. He had a magnetic personality that drew people in. But not a lot of people knew Teagan . I loved knowing that I did. I actually felt kind of… almost… possessive about it. About him. Which was wrong on all sorts of levels.

“Anyway. Mrs. Graziella said to let you two work things out in your own time, but I’m afraid that’s no longer an option here, John. It seems like he really likes this guy.” She cast a worried look in the direction of my apartment. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

I clutched my coffee cup more tightly in my hand. “What can I do? I mean, it’s… good. It’s… great. That he… that he likes someone,” I managed to choke out.

“Other-John,” Monica reminded me sadly.

“Right. Yes. Other-John,” I agreed grimly, like the bottom wasn’t falling out of my world. “Teagan deserves to be happy.”

“Sure he does.” Monica grabbed my arm. “But he deserves to be happy with you . No one else can love him like you can! And this whole clusterfuck is your fault, because you haven’t told him how you feel.

He might like Other-John, but the original is always the best.” She laid her hand on my arm.

“Go be the original-John, John. Just talk to him.”

For a long moment, I stared at her, my muscles too frozen to move. Downstairs, I heard the main door to the building open and close with a click and Tito barking excitedly.

My first thought was I don’t even have a week to sort this. I have to do it now.

Just talk to him … God, she made it sound so easy. Like it wa s just a matter of being determined enough. Like there weren’t very real stakes.

I had no numbers to run, no formulas to input, no lucky charms to stuff in my pockets. I wasn’t sure how to even begin.

“I’ve gotta go,” I blurted, taking out my keys. “I promised T I’d be home. I’ll… I’ll let you get back to your… mischief.”

I strode across the hall, let myself inside, set down my belongings, and leaned back against the door to catch my breath.

The apartment smelled like a fall candle Teagan must have had burning somewhere, and the dust motes twirled lazily through the late-afternoon light filtering through the wide-open curtains at the window.

From Teagan’s room came the sound of his sweet voice chatting animatedly, and a plate of muffins sat under a glass dome on the kitchen counter.

But it wasn’t until I walked down the short hall toward Teagan’s bedroom and found him sitting at his desk, his long hair tied up in a knot and his legs pretzeled beneath him, that I could really draw a deep breath.

Teagan’s gaze shot to mine as I hovered in the doorway, careful to stay off-camera, and the polite smile he’d been giving the person on the screen warmed a fraction. Became something special. Something that was mine .

Or maybe I only had it temporarily. Until he moved on to this Other-John.

I gulped nervously and choked on my own saliva. Teagan looked concerned.

“Patsy, can you hang on while I mute you for two seconds?” he asked the person on the screen. He clicked a button, then looked at me. “You okay, Johnny?”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Dear God, he was so beautiful.

“Okay. Well…” He bit his lip—that full lower lip I fucking dreamed of feeling on my dick—almost nervously. “I’m go nna need like ten… maybe fifteen more minutes here, and then I’m gonna jump in the shower and get ready.”

“Ready?” I was way too distracted to hold a conversation.

“Yeah. To go out.” He grinned. “Things are looking really good. But I…”

“Teagan?” The woman on the Zoom call prompted at the same moment that a phone began quacking somewhere in the living room.

“Shit,” Teagan muttered. “That’s my alarm to start getting ready. I have like fifty-seven things to tell you, and I will , I promise. Wait for me?”

“I… I’ll go shut off your alarm.” I hooked a thumb toward the living room, and he gave me a wide, grateful smile.

“Ten minutes,” he reiterated. “Maybe fifteen.”

Right. Yeah. Great.

Fifteen minutes to figure out a solution I hadn’t been able to come up with in a year.

Fifteen minutes to find a way to convince Teagan that, yes, I had romantic feelings for him, but I could handle them.

That things between us didn’t have to change.

That he wasn’t the sole reason I was staying in Boston.

That I hardly ever jerked off at night thinking about the curve of his ass when he leaned over to take bread out of the oven and that I hadn’t had to add ten minutes to my shower time every morning because the green-grass scent of his bodywash had a very consistent effect on certain parts of my anatomy.

What could go wrong?

I found Teagan’s phone sitting on the charger by the sofa, and I wiped my damp palms on my pants before I picked it up and hit Stop to silence the alarm. On the lock screen were the unread texts I’d sent Teagan on the way home.

JOHNNY

Sorry! Marie needed to talk to me urgently. I’m for real leaving now though. What’s the big news? Is there a puppy available at the shelter? Because I’m still not sure our place is big enough.

For half a second, I wished I could unlock the phone and quickly delete all reference to Marie, but I told myself it was too late for that anyway. I needed to move forward and come clean. I needed to…

The name on the message underneath mine snagged my attention, and I read it before I’d consciously decided to.

JOHN D

It’s only been one day, but I already miss you.

What the fuck?

I scrolled further, to the bottom of an extraordinarily long text string, and started reading.

JOHN D

Last night was so magical, Teagan.

The connection between us was unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

The way you listened to me like you really cared what I was saying…

The way you immediately understood me and encouraged me to follow my dreams…

The way you finished my sentences.

The way you looked when you blinked your bright blue eyes at me.

I scowled. Teagan’s eyes were gray-blue. Changeable as storm clouds. Idiot.

JOHN D

You dazzle me.

You inspire me.

The way I feel about you is so huge and overwhelming.

It feels like… it feels like LOVE, Teagan. And I know that’s crazy, and it’s probably too soon…

But you deserve to know, and I couldn’t wait another minute before telling you.

I need to see you tonight.

Please, baby.

I clutched Teagan’s phone so hard the glass squeaked under my hand, and I forced myself to put it down gently.

Baby. He’d called my Teagan baby .

Every word that Other-John had written was one I could have said.

But it turned out I didn’t have even fifteen minutes to sort my shit and come clean.

I was already too late. I’d missed my chance to tell Teagan how I felt, and he’d already found someone else.

Someone who’d made him… what had Monica said?

Gooey and dreamy? Someone he’d told Mrs. Graziella might be the one .

So many other things started slotting into place, too. Postponing our Netflix Night? Needing to talk to me about his once-in-a-lifetime, unexpected good news?

In the other room, Teagan laughed lightly, happily, and my stomach flipped with genuine nausea.

In just a few minutes, Teagan would come out here and talk to me about his magical date and his true love, and because I was his platonic best friend John, he’d expect me to listen and smile supportively.

I would have to show him how happy I was that he was happy, even while my heart was breaking.

And I… couldn’t. I just couldn’t.

Later, after the shock had worn off, after the buzzing in my brain slowed down, after the panic had subsided, maybe after I’d accepted the job at Hannabury, I’d be able to be the best friend he deserved, but I knew that right then I would only ruin his excitement with my own disappointment.

I typed out a quick text on my own phone, and by the time Teagan’s phone quacked to signal that he’d received it, I already had my keys in my hand.

I let the door slam shut behind me.