Page 31 of Don't Call Me Brother
I scroll down and read the next email. “ ‘Happy for you both. The company has always been progressive, glad to see it in action.’ Signed by someone in logistics.”
Rowan hums happily and rests his head on my shoulder, one arm draped across my stomach. “That one felt genuine.”
We keep going like that… taking turns reading the messages, sharing the ice cream, occasionally feeding each other a spoonful when the other is too busy reading. Some emails are warm and sincere. Some are clearly polite corporate-speak. A few are borderline sucking up, the kind that make us both snort with laughter. But even those feel… nice.
Rowan licks a stray drop of caramel from the corner of my mouth, then kisses the same spot gently. “I can’t believe we did it,” he whispers against my skin. “We told everyone.”
I turn my head and catch his lips in a slow, sweet kiss that tastes like salted caramel and relief. When we pull apart, I rest my forehead against his.
“Yeah,” I murmur, voice low and warm. “We did.”
He smiles, soft and a little shy, and steals another spoonful of ice cream before offering it back to me. I take it, then wrap my arm tighter around him, pulling him even closer.
We keep scrolling, keep sharing the spoon, keep trading quiet little kisses between emails. Thousands of employees. Hundreds of messages. But right now, the only thing that matters is this… the two of us tangled together on the couch, eating ice cream straight from the tub, finally out in the open and perfectly content.
The End
