Mask | ✓

37

"Tell me about yourself," I told Roan, causing him to turn to me. He stared at me blankly, so I said, "Come on, I want to learn more about you."

He didn't quite seem to believe my words, but he reluctantly began to speak. "There is not much to tell; my name is Roan, I am twenty-one-years-old, I am currently the be—"

"Not that," I sighed. "I already know that much. Tell me about your family, where you came from—shit like that."

Roan blinked. "I do not have a family."

The response was a simple one, but it made my head turn and ultimately confused me even more. It seemed with every word that left Roan's mouth, the more curious and annoyed I became. The annoyance was primarily due to the fact that I knew nothing about him. I didn't like the unknown, and Roan was the embodiment of just that.

It seemed with every question, I got further from figuring anything out about him, and, apart from my own nosiness, it worried me. It worried me that this man was so close to my brother, and I didn't have the faintest clue as to who he was. I knew that Nolan could take care of himself and make his own choices, but at the end of the day, he was still my brother, and I wanted to look out for him.

I opened my mouth to ask another question, but Nolan reappeared, which caused me to stop. He moved to the couch and took a seat beside Roan.

"You wanted to talk?"

I nodded and began to stand. "Let's go—"

"No," Nolan shook his head. "Let's stay here."

"Here?" My eyes drifted to Roan, and Nolan followed my gaze.

"Here," he confirmed. "Roan stays. I trust him."

The way he said the last three words told me that it was non-negotiable. It was a reminder of the words I had said to him the last time I came over about Roan not telling him everything.

I sighed and nodded. "I wanted to apologize for what I said to you," I told him honestly.

Nolan's eyebrows raised, and he stared at me for a minute before letting out a sigh of his own.

"Nixon, you know I love you, right?" He said quietly, a faint smile taking over his face. My brows furrowed, and I nodded. "That's why I worry about you so much. When you don't respond, I worry; when you're hurt, I worry; when you're upset, I worry. You're my brother and my best friend, and you've already been through hell and back. Just remembering when you'd spend time with Isaiah makes my stomach churn. Remembering how long you suffered before it eventually became—"

"You tried to help me. You tried to warn me about—"

"It wasn't enough," he frowned. "You experienced it, but I had to witness the aftermath. I had to watch you fall apart, watch you suffer, and blame yourself. I had to listen to you spend nights crying and sit there knowing you were in pain and there was nothing I could do."

No words left my mouth. I didn't know what to say because it was all true. As much as I hated to admit it, every last word he said was undeniably true. Nolan had watched me deteriorate throughout my relationship with Isaiah until I reached my breaking point. He watched me fall apart after everything was done with. When we left the pack, he saw my pain when nobody else could.

"But I also watched you grow," Nolan added, looking into my identical brown eyes. "I watched you get back up time and time again; I watched you forgive yourself and become stronger. Seeing that evolution is why I look out for you and why I wish to see you happy. After everything, you deserve it. So when I saw you with Tatum—saw how you clearly liked him—I don't know, I got excited. I was excited to see you with someone after so long but also scared. I tried to push aside my fear because I could see the way you both looked at each other. That was why I brought it up, not to tease, not to be a dick, but because I truly want to see you happy. I don't want it to be something that passes you by, and you regret."