Ryan and Ka were in New Orleans for part of the summer. They’d bonded with Naomi over boudin balls and beer at Lisette’s wedding, and now hung out with her at Aire Noire if they weren’t with me on a job site or with friends from high school.

    Ka twirled around on a velvet stool as she told Naomi all about how she was getting ready to audition for Swan Lake back in New York, while Ryan peppered Kadisha with questions about social work and criminal justice reform.

    I refilled sses of iced tea and…yeah, I felt it.

    Home. Not the house-on-a-lot kind. The kind you find in people.

    “Okay, but hear me out.” Ka held up a garment no sister of mine should ever wear. “You let me wear this corset on stage at Juilliard, and I promise to send you professional photos and free marketing.”

    Naomiughed, warm and surprised. “I’m not sure the NYU Arts Council is ready for French Quarter burlesque.”

    “Oh, they’re ready.” Ka winked. “They just don’t know it yet.”

    “You’re not wearing that.” I put her iced tea in front of her.

    “Please, your girlfriend owns a lingerie store, and you’re a prude?” Ka gave me a dry look, not even trying to hide her irritation. “I’m positive that Naomi here has modeled some of these for you.”

    Naomi blushed and waved a hand. “I need to check on something in the boudoir.”

    “See.” Ka flung an usatory hand at the retreating Naomi.

    “Keep at it and we’ll transfer you to an all-girls Catholic school,” I threatened.

    “Like a Catholic school will take her,” Ryan interjected.

    Ka drank some iced tea and snickered. “You’ve been checking out the lingerie…probably to make sure all the girls you date will be outfitted from here.”

    “Doesn’t matter since you’re not wearing them,” Ryan retorted.

    “You men are hypocrites,” Kadisha announced. “Y’all want to see your girlfriend’s showing tits and ass…well, I got news for you, Ka is gonna be someone’s girlfriend.”

    “Please, don’t say such things.” Ryan put a hand on his heart. “I’m going to have a cardiac incident right here and now.”

    While they bantered, I went to find Naomi, who was cleaning out a fitting room.

    My family adored her. Actually, it was more than that. They saw her and instantly liked her, made her one of us.

    “Please don’t ever tell me what Ka buys from here.” I wrapped my arms around Naomi, who went on tiptoe and kissed me.

    “Deal.”

    “They like you.”

    She seemed overwhelmed from time to time because of how everyone in my family just epted her and dragged her to all kinds of family nonsense.

    Her cheeks went pink, her eyes a little ssy, like she didn’t quite believe how my family felt about her. “They do?”

    “Yeah, baby, they do.”

    She smiled shyly, and when she returned to the register, I hung back, watching my siblings orbit around her, watching her soak in the moments I should’ve given her from the very start.

    It hit me then—she hadn’t said she loved me to get my attention, she’d told me because she wanted to belong.

    In the evening, when we went to dinner at Pluck, her favorite wine bar, I said as much to her.

    “It’s just…so strange,” she confessed as she looked out of the window.

    “What is?”

    She turned to look at me. “That…they just…you know….”

    “ept you?”

    “Yes,” she eximed.

    I frowned. “Why wouldn’t they?”

    “There’s…you know how I grew up.” Her voice was soft, careful, like she was walking a tightrope inside her own heart.

    “I do.”

    “I used to make myself small,” she borated. “All the time. After my parents died, when I lived with my aunt and uncle. I was this…unwanted thing in their house. Too loud. Too sensitive. Too much. So, I learned to hide it all inside. My wants. My heart. My voice.”

    My breath hitched.

    “And when you left—when you acted like I was just…a warm body, something fun to pass the time with—I went right back to that ce. That tiny, pathetic version of me. And it scared me.”

    I reached out and took her hand in mine, squeezed.

    “So…it’s just so strange that your family is like all in and….” She shook her head as if still puzzled.

    “I’m sorry, baby. For every time I made you question your worth. For every second, you felt like you weren’t enough. You were too much in all the best fucking ways, and I didn’t know how to be a man who deserved you.”

    She searched my face. “And now?”

    “Now,” I said, taking a breath, “I’ve been going to therapy every week. And I’ve learned that I used my grief like a wall. I didn’t want to lose anyone else, so I never let them close enough to matter. But you mattered. You broke through. And when I lost you…fuck, Naomi, my life went from feeling good to feeling empty.”

    She lifted our hands to her lips and kissed the back of mine.

    I disentangled from her touch, leaned forward, and cupped her face.

    “I’m not trying to fix the past. But I’m building every day now to be a man you can count on.”

    She turned her face and kissed the palm of my hand. “I know. And thank you.”

    “Well, look who’s here,” a voice called.

    Naomi squealed and hugged Jonah. I rose and shook hands with him, reluctantly.

    “It’s been ages,” Naomi said.

    The smug asshole smiled. “Busy, busy.” He pulled up a chair to our small table and took a seat, uninvited. “You know, Gage, I didn’t think this was your kinda ce. I don’t think they have a single beer on tap.”

    I arched an eyebrow while Naomi chuckled softly.

    “I go where she goes.”

    Heughed. “Good answer.” He turned to Naomi, taking her hands in his. “You’re lookin’ good, darlin’.”

    I hissed.

    Naomi let out a peal ofughter.

    “Stop being mean, Jonah.”

    “Why?” Jonah smirked. “He’s so fuckin’ jealous and easy, he’s almost beggin’ for it.”

    “Just stop touching her,” I retorted.

    He leaned back and held up both his hands, palms out. “I’ve moved on, man. You think I was gonna give up international yboy status for a woman who clearly never stopped loving you?”

    “International? Aren’t we stretching the truth,” Naomi mocked.

    Jonah looked at me, his eyes serious. “She looks happy.”

    “She is happy.”

    “She is sitting right here!” Naomi raised her hand as if she were in a ssroom.

    “Don’t fumble it,” Jonah advised.

    I nodded. “I’m not nning on it.”

    “Good. Looks like you’re less of an asshole these days.”

    I grinned. “Therapy. Bourbon. Guilt. You know. Growth.”

    Jonah didn’t stay for a drink. He’d onlye in because he’d seen us as he’d been walking down the street. He had dinner reservations at Restaurant Herbsaint next door.

    We watched him disappear up Girod.

    Naomi picked up the menu. “So, should we order a bottle of wine?”

    “Yeah, let’s do that.”

    For the rest of the evening, we were like any other couple—eating good food, drinking fabulous wine, and being at ease with one another.

    It was fucking awesome.