Noaz (Van Doren #2)

13. Briar

13

brIAR

There’s no hurry to pack. All I truly have is confined to my bedroom and the majority of the furniture will stay here. I bought the desk and chair a month or so after my arrival, so I had somewhere to do schoolwork, but otherwise, the house came furnished.

However, it feels like not packing and being productive in terms of my move is procrastinating. I could be working, but… I set my own hours and I can’t seem to concentrate, anyway. I’ve been stuck on the same paragraph for what feels like a week.

So we’re packing my room. Noaz is sitting on my bed with the contents of my shirt drawer as they roll each individual item and place it in the box. One thing I’ll say is that while I moved out here with two suitcases, a duffle bag, and my backpack, I’ve acquired a bunch more clothes and other random shit. While I’m leaving with more than I came with, Noaz manages to fit my entire wardrobe into a box by rolling each item.

While they do my clothes, I focus on my desk and things in my bathroom. We’ve already pulled out a week’s worth of clothes and set them aside. I’ve noted the essentials in my bathroom and kept out a single towel, hand towel, and bath rug. Everything else is getting packed.

Honestly, I’m not sure where half this stuff came from. Per our agreed upon house rules, I never had any girlfriends over, so where would I have gotten this herbal shampoo that smells like roses? It’s half empty, so clearly it’s been used. Was it here when we moved in? Weird thing to leave, but I suppose it’s possible.

“Briar?”

I set the shampoo on the counter and head back into my bedroom. Noaz isn’t on the bed anymore, so I hunt them down in my closet. They have my boxing gloves in their hands and look up at me when I step into the doorway.

“These are yours?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a boxer,” he recalls.

I shrug. “I’ve boxed since I was a kid, but it’s only ever been a passion hobby.”

“Do you still box?”

“Sometimes. There are bags at the gym, and occasionally I’ll bring them with me. It’s the lack of convenience that makes me forget. I was a member of a dedicated boxing gym in Anaheim, so my gloves stayed there in my locker. I couldn’t find the same kind of gym here.”

“Do you miss it?”

I reach for the gloves and stick my hand in one, nodding absently as I do. “Sometimes.”

Noaz nods. “Maybe there’s a gym close to the Estate.”

I kiss their cheek. “Maybe. Not a big deal. ”

Noaz hums and nods.

As I turn, I see Brek walk by my bedroom. “I’ll be right back.”

“’Kay.”

Dropping the gloves on my desk as I walk toward the door, I head to Brek’s room. He’s lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. For a minute, I watch him, waiting for him to acknowledge me, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t notice I’m here at all.

Stepping into his room, I stop at the side of his bed and gently kick the foot that’s resting on the floor. His eyes turn to mine and he smiles. It’s not the kind of smile we grew up sharing. This one looks tired.

“Everything okay?”

Brek sits up. “Yep.”

“You don’t have to move with us.”

He rolls his eyes. “The alternative is staying by myself, which I can’t afford. I’d have to find a room for rent and I doubt I’d enjoy that either.” He shakes his head. “I’m happy to go.”

“I can tell.”

Brek smirks. “I am. Swear.”

“It’ll be good for all of us.”

He hums, though I’m not sure he agrees. “Oh, I got something for you.”

I take a step back as Brek gets to his feet. He’s still dressed as if he’s headed to work, which I suppose is where he’s likely come from—slacks with a polo shirt tucked in and a black leather belt. It’s so very different from how he usually dresses, which consists of jeans and an open shirt on top .

Brek stops at his dresser, opens a drawer, and I hear him rustling around. When he turns around, he’s gripping something into his hand and stares at me, his cheeks slightly pink. “I’ve just realized how corny this might be.”

“Whatever it is, it’s not corny.”

Obvious doubt colors his face, but he holds out his hand to me. I’m surprised when he drops a bracelet onto my palm. A leather cord knotted around an infinity symbol. When I bring it closer to my face, I can see the six of our names engraved on it.

“I know I’m kind of a pain in the ass,” Brek says, “but it just feels like everyone is growing up and moving on with their lives while I’m standing still. You’re moving on and I’m kind of static. I ordered one of these for myself weeks ago because I know in my chest and head that you’re all the same people. We’re still best friends and nothing will change that. Since you’re getting married, I thought maybe I’d get you one too.”

What might be easiest to see is how Brek throws grumpy tantrums. He does. But he’s got some issues that he’s been working on his entire life. In a lot of ways, the six of us have been each other’s therapists. That one steady thing in life that’s allowed us to deal with all the shit constantly taking swings at us.

Haze has always been the most obvious of our group to need the support. His abusive family, while not abusive to him, definitely left behind some mean blows internally. He’s still bruised from it. Still working on moving past it and healing.

But Brek had a shitty home life behind all the gold and marble. The single child of a rich family and he’s simply never been good enough for them. And they’ve made their disappointment clear in every step of his life. Praising his three-year-old cousin for learning to ride a bike without training wheels over his accomplishments in college .

For years, we’ve done our best to make sure Brek feels valued. To make sure he understands his 3.9 GPA is fucking amazing. To make sure he understands that he’s very intelligent, regardless of whether he’s ‘the best’ at something.

Fuck his family.

I reach for Brek and yank him to me, wrapping him in my arms. He’s a bit taller than me, but I hug him tightly all the same. “Nothing between us changes, Brek. You know that, right? You are and always will be my best friend. We’ll talk and see each other often. I will never survive without you being a part of my life.”

Brek sighs. “Yeah, I know. I admit I’ve been kind of shitty lately, especially to Oakley. I guess a part of me thought that me and Oakley would end up together.”

I chuckle. “Yeah?”

He nods, shrugging at the same time. “I don’t know why I thought that, but it’s always just… been there. Like a future promise, which is fucking stupid since there’s never been anything between us, and we’ve never made some kind of ‘ if I don’t have someone by the time I’m thirty, we’ll get married ’ pact. I can’t even remember how long I’ve been thinking it, but it was long enough that I don’t remember ever thinking differently.”

“I didn’t realize you were into guys,” I say, trying to move him away from dwelling on Oakley too much.

Once again, Brek shrugs. “I’m not. Or maybe I am. I don’t know.”

“You’ve always talked in terms of girlfriends.”

He nods. “Yeah.”

I’m not sure where to go with this, so I don’t push him any further. For a silent moment, I continue to hold him tightly. “I promise, Brek. Everything will be good. I know you’re going to be happy. Sometimes I think you need to just let yourself be happy without hanging on so tightly.”

“I know. About the hanging-on thing. Not so sure about the happy thing.”

Chuckling, I take a step back. “Just so you know, in case it’s never been said to you, you can like guys or girls. Both or neither. I think you already know that, but I want to make it clear it applies to you, too.”

Brek smiles. “Thanks. Should I make sure you understand that for yourself, as well?”

I smirk. “I’ve learned I’m into people, not body parts.”

He laughs. “I love that.”

“I’m going to go back to packing. Thanks for the bracelet. It means a lot.”

“You’re not leaving for two weeks, right?” he asks. I can hear the worry in his voice, even as he tries to hide it.

“I’m not leaving for two weeks,” I confirm. “But we have some short trips planned between now and then, so it makes more sense to pack up now instead of waiting till the last minute.”

He sighs, nodding. “’Kay.”

I clap his arm gently. “Everything is going to be great. Promise.”

Brek is smiling as I leave his room, it’s the kind of smile that almost has me convinced he might believe me. I slip the bracelet on my wrist as I walk back to my bedroom. Noaz is sitting back on my bed with another pile of clothes. They look up with a smile.

My heart skips as it does every single time I see them. Crossing the room, I bend down to press my lips to theirs. “I get to kiss you for the rest of my life,” I murmur.

I receive a shy smile in return. “Everything okay?” Noaz asks.

Glancing at my bracelet, I nod. “Yes. I think it’ll be fine. I think what Brek wants is for us to remain how we’ve always been. It’s comfortable and reassuring. In fact, I don’t think that’s what he wants. I know that’s what he wants. He’s said so many times over the years. But it’s not what he needs, and it’s not how life works. I think he’s finally realizing that.”

Noaz nods. “He can stay with us for a while if he wants to.”

“Sounds like he’s going to be staying in the big house with Jalon and Voss. Levis and Honey Bee will be staying there until Brek settles in. We all think it’s best if Brek remains surrounded by people. Silence isn’t kind to him.”

“He’s had a rough life?” Noaz asks.

I shrug as we continue to roll clothing. “In a sense.”

We’re quiet for a minute. The only sounds are of us putting articles of clothing into the box.

“You know, I sometimes wonder if maybe that’s what my brothers and nephew ought to do,” Noaz says.

I look up. “What do you mean?”

“Last night, the entire decision about whether everyone would move home was solely dependent on where Loren decided to be.”

I nod. “I’ve gotten the impression they don’t leave him alone for any long periods of time.”

Noaz shakes their head. “No. And I get it. Their mother was a piece of shit, so they all kind of overcompensated to make sure Loren didn’t feel the need to become fake so he could pretend to be what he’s not. But he’s a sociopath—you know that, right?”

“Mhmm.”

“You understand what that means?”

I pause. “Lack of empathy and a sense of what’s right and wrong.”

“Tons more than that, but neither of those is the reason he’s not left alone, Briar.”

A minute passes as I stare at Noaz. “Is Oakley safe?”

Noaz grins. “Oakley is the safest person in the entire world. But you’re hitting on their concerns. Sociopaths have a tendency toward violence. Since they lack empathy and their sense of right and wrong is skewed, it’s not something they have any reservations about acting out.”

I sit back.

“But in not quite the same parallel, Loren is twenty-five, married. And the likelihood of him doing something to compromise being with Oakley every second of the day is slim. I’m not going to say he’s tame now, but he’s definitely going to be forced to think things through before acting. I think it’s time to let him be an independent adult.”

“Have you suggested as much?”

Noaz laughs. “No, and I won’t bother. My brother and nephews are nothing if not obsessively protective and loyal to each other. Besides, their hovering isn’t because they’re overprotective. It’s a concern for the realities Loren can create.”

“Oakley is safe, though,” I reiterate.

“More than safe, Briar. Promise. ”

I let these thoughts percolate in my head as we continue packing my clothes. Honestly, I didn’t know I had so many clothes. Where did they all come from? Have I even been shopping since moving here?

A knock on my door makes us both look. Honey Bee is standing in the doorway with her hand over her eyes.

Sighing, I say, “We’re not going to be naked with the door open.”

“Yeah, well… better safe than scarred for life.” She drops her hand and gives us a beaming grin. “I want to run some wedding ideas by you and I promise, I won’t bother you again concerning this unless it’s dire.”

I nod. “Okay. Let’s see.”

Honey Bee beams as she comes into the room, and holds up a thick ass binder she’s been hiding behind the wall. With my rolling chair, she plops down in front of us and I push the box aside.

“We’re starting simple,” Honey Bee says. “Just to warm you up. Color palette.”

We have three options on the first page. One is a cool combination of pearly white, icy gray, a very cool gray blue, and then a nice dark charcoal. The next are a mix of creams with a very muted, calming blush. The third is more traditional with white and some brighter colors.

Noaz and I exchange a look. They point to the first and I nod. That’s definitely my favorite too.

Honey Bee sticks a sticky note over it and changes the page. “These aren’t examples of specific items I’m considering. This is solely for aesthetics. I want to see what your tastes are.”

There are four different squares with a few pictures in each. The ceremony space, the reception space, and then a spattering of centerpieces. They range from outlandishly ornate and expensive, to brazenly bright, and everything in between.

I watch Noaz’s expression from the corner of my eye. They’re cringing for the most part, which only makes me smile. Once again, they choose the one that’s serene with quiet elegance.

Honey Bee places a sticky note.

The next page is menswear, with a whole slew of options from a tuxedo to board shorts and a tee. Noaz’s eyes get wide. They take their lip between their teeth as they study the page, then they look at me. “Which do you want to see me in?”

“Oh no,” Honey Bee says, shaking her head. “This page is for Briar. You’re next, Uncle Noaz.”

Noaz’s small smile is amused as they incline their head. I turn the question back on Noaz, though. “I’m honestly indifferent to this. What do you want to see me in?”

Noaz studies the page for a minute and chooses something that’s definitely in the same theme as the options we’ve already picked. It’s three steps down from being a tuxedo. No tie, but still crisp and clean. Honey Bee adds her sticky note.

The next page, which has an extension on either side that she unfolds like a butterfly’s wings, is filled with a bride’s catalog, but there’s a wide range of styles and not a single female model in the pictures. There are also swatches of color on the pages, ranging from your typical white to gray, blue, black, pink, and purple.

There are pantsuits, dresses, and two pieces. Both refined and understated, as well as over-the-top princess bride dresses.

“This more along the lines of what you imagined?” Honey Bee asks.

Noaz nods. “Yeah,” they murmur. “Thanks. ”

Honey Bee smiles softly. “Close your eyes, Briar. This is between Uncle Noaz and me.”

Smiling, I take Noaz’s hand then close my eyes, bowing my head so I’m not tempted to look. Minutes pass and I’m not prompted to open my eyes again until the pages are tucked in and turned.

I can see the glassy look in Noaz’s eyes and know that meant a lot to them.

We finish going through a few more pages before Honey Bee closes her binder. “Okay, email me your measurements so I can order your garments. The only thing I need you involved in is a single fitting three days before the wedding. Okay?”

“Sounds good, Honey Bee,” I say.

She nods. “This is going to be stunning. I promise to give your credit card a workout.” With a wink, she leaves us.

“I didn’t realize you gave her a credit card,” I say.

Noaz shrugs. “How else was she going to plan this?”

Fair enough. “We’ll have to talk about finances, eventually. I just graduated, so my debt is far larger than my income at this point.”

Noaz shrugs again. “When I tell you I have enough money to buy the state of Arizona, I mean it. I’m not concerned.”

While I’m pretty sure they’re joking, I smile and bring them to my side. It’s all moving quickly, but my overall emotion is still just a sense of right .