Page 111 of The Hopelessly Bromantic Duet
“Problem solved,” I say.
I tell him I need tea before I solve any bigger dilemmas and go inside the house to put on the kettle. While I wait for it to boil, I grab my phone, touching base with Holly and Kenta about our meetings, then I click to my texts. Olivia tells me to get a job in New York before she dies from missing me, my brother teasesthat he liberated all my books from my flat, and William shares details of his show with both TJ and me.
Hmm. Do I want to go? William is a big fucking deal too, just like TJ, and I’m the guy who’s trying to catch up to their level of success. But as TJ said, comparison is the thief of joy. So what if they’re both a little further along in their careers than I am?
TJ always did like William’s music, so I suspect he’ll enjoy going. After I pour the tea, I head back to the deck, calling, “What’s the verdict, stud?—”
But he holds up a hand then points to his phone as he speaks into it. “Yes, of course. I love Amsterdam. If they want me there for the book show, I’ll go.” There’s a long pause. “I’ll believethatwhen it happens.” Another beat. “Just like you taught me, Mason.”
When he hangs up, the wildly curious center of my soul is dying to ask what that’s all about. But it’s not my business.
“That was my agent,” he explains. “A lot’s been happening.”
No one in the whole world can downplay like TJ Hardman. “Sounds like it. Is your publisher sending you to Amsterdam?”
“Potentially. There’s a book expo in a month. A big trade thing. My Dutch publisher is talking about me doing a meet and greet.”
You should stop by London, I want to say. But more than that, I want it to be his idea. Or to ask me to join him for the weekend. I’d go. In a heartbeat. So, I wait for him to connect the dots. Let him be the impulsive one for once.
Instead, he glances at the phone screen. “You were asking me about this text, I think?”
I shift back to that topic. “Do you want to go? You always liked his music.”
“I did. I still do.” Then he scratches his jaw like he’s about to say something, but maybe he thinks better of it. “But do youwant to go? I know he’s a good friend,” he says carefully, maybe a little unsure of William’s role in my life.
“We should. I think he’ll appreciate it. He seems a little different than when I lived with him in London. Lately, I get the sense he’s struggling with something.”
TJ blinks. “You. Lived. With. Him?”
Oh, fuck me. “You didn’t know that?”
“Um, you and I weren’t in touch for seven years, dude.” His tone hints he’s about to cross his arms and shut down.
I step closer. “But you talked to him, so I figured it came up at some point.”
“We texted now and then. That was all.”
“He lived with Olivia and me for a bit, but that was a couple of years ago,” I explain quickly. “Does that bother you?”
He hesitates. “It shouldn’t,” he says, but it’s clear it does and he sounds as frustrated as he did that rainy night at Wiseman.
“Why though? Why does it bother you?”
“He lived with you. He got to see you.” TJ sighs heavily, then does it once more as if he’s trying to get a handle on his emotions. “He got to see you over the last seven years. I didn’t get to see you at all.”
I set my mug on the railing then close the distance between us, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. “He’s not you. Just know that.”
TJ exhales in obvious relief as he jerks me up against him. “And I get to see you now.”
“Yes, you do.”
“We’ll go, then. It’s important. We’ll show him our support.”
It’s settled.
More importantly, we’ve navigated that little speed bump. I take that as a good sign for us.
TJ tells me he wants to teach me pinball, so that night, he takes me to an arcade a mile away.