Riley twisted and buried her face in her husband’s chest, holding on to him tightly.
Pop Pop stepped off the curb and took a couple steps toward the pub. Oliver wondered if he was trying to get a closer look, and he was ready to intervene before his grandfather got too near. Not only was it unsafe, but he didn’t want Pop Pop to see just how bad it was. It looked horrible enough from this side of the street.
However, Pop Pop surprised him when he turned his back to the pub, facing all of them, still huddled close together.
“Everything that matters,” Pop Pop said, his voice surprisingly strong as he held his arms out, gesturing to all of them, “is on this side of the street. Everything.”
Oliver looked around and saw his beloved family standing side by side, healthy, whole, alive. Erin and Gavin flanked him, and when he considered how much worse this could have been if they hadn’t been able to get out, if he’d lost one or both of them…Pop Pop was right.
“We’ll rebuild it, Pop,” Oliver’s dad, Sean, said, stepping next to his father and placing his hand on his shoulder.
Pop Pop smiled. “Of course we will.”
“We’ll make it better than before,” Uncle Killian added.
“We’re going to rearrange our schedule at J and K Construction,” Uncle Justin added. “Pat’s Pub just moved up to the top of our list of projects.”
“My brothers will help too,” Layla called out. “Moretti Brothers Restorations. I promise you, they’ll be able to make it look exactly the same.”
For the first time since waking up to the alarm, the two-ton weight that had been pressing on Oliver’s chest began to lift. The Collins family might get knocked down, but damn if they didn’t get right the hell back up again.
It was then that Oliver remembered the ornaments. He’d been cupping them in his hands through everything, unwilling to release them. He glanced over at Gavin, who nodded, holding up the two in his hands, aware of where his thoughts had traveled.
The two of them walked over to Pop Pop, palms upright, revealing what they held.
Pop Pop’s eyes widened. “Sunday’s ornaments.”
Riley gasped. “You saved them.”
His aunts and uncles crowded closer to look. He and Gavin handed them to Riley, Keira, Ewan, and Tris, who cradled each ornament, as if they were newborn babies.
Oliver’s dad, Sean, stepped between him and Gavin, the only Collins sibling who wasn’t smiling at the moment. Wrapping his arms around their shoulders, he pulled them out of earshot of the rest of the family. “I’m not sure I like the idea of the two of you stopping to undecorate a Christmas tree in the middle of a fire. What the hell were you thinking?”
“It was my fault,” Oliver said. “I ran to the tree to grab them. Gavin tried to stop me.”
“Ollie—” Gavin interjected, shaking his head.
“Dammit, Oliver,” Dad started. “So not only did you risk your own life, you risked that of your brother’s. Where was Erin?”
Oliver sighed. “On the fire escape. Waiting.”
“Jesus,” Dad said, his jaw suddenly tight.
“He wasn’t wrong,” Gavin said, drawing Dad’s attention to him. “This family lost enough tonight, Sean. It only took us a second to grab the ornaments. If I thought we were in danger, I would have dragged him out of there, ornaments or not. I swear it.”
Dad nodded, and a ghost of smile appeared. “When Aaron called and said the pub was on fire, I lost ten years off my life. Even when he said you were both alright, I couldn’t relax until I saw you with my own eyes.”
Gavin blew out a long, slow breath. “Looks like we’re homeless.”
Oliver hadn’t considered that. Shit. He’d spent the last hour thinking only of what his family had lost. Hadn’t spared a thought about himself.
He and Gavin had just lost everything.
Dad glanced over his shoulder at the pub briefly before turning his back on it again as if it was too hard to acknowledge. “I realize we’ve sort of taken control of your old bedrooms…”
Oliver and Gavin chuckled. Sort of was an understatement. His parents had turned Oliver’s old bedroom into a home gym, and Gavin’s was currently awash in fabric as their mother had taken up quilting and decided she needed a sewing room.
“We still have the guest room, and we can move some furniture around tomorrow…or, damn. It is tomorrow. So, later this afternoon. We’ll get your rooms back together for you,” Dad offered.
“Or,” Erin said, “if you’ll forgive me for eavesdropping, you guys could come stay with me. I’m out a roommate at the moment and the extra bedroom, Jordan’s old room, is fully furnished. I mean…all the furniture was mine to begin with.”
Oliver gripped the edges of the blanket draped over Erin’s shoulders, using it to pull her closer, as for the first time he began to feel the cold December air. He wrapped her up in his arms, trying to share what little body heat he had left with her. He looked at Gavin over her head, trying to determine what his foster brother thought of her invitation.
While it wouldn’t be much different than what they’d been doing over the past year—Erin typically slept over at their apartment a couple nights a week—Oliver couldn’t hide how much he liked the idea of the three of them sharing a space full-time.
Gavin’s brow was furrowed, a sure sign he was trying to come up with an excuse to say no.
Oliver stared him down, mouthing the word “please,” and Gavin rolled his eyes.
Then the lines in Gavin’s forehead eased and he gave Oliver a crooked smile. “That’s a nice offer, Erin,” he said. “If you’re sure, I say we give it a try. And if our testosterone gets to be too much, you can always give us the boot.”
The shock was wearing off quickly. Oliver reached out and pulled Gavin toward them, the three of them huddling together. He needed them in his arms, needed to feel them close and know they were all safe.
Oliver swallowed hard. “I love you two. God, if anything had…” He couldn’t finish his thought.
“We’re okay, bro,” Gavin murmured. “We’re all okay.”
Erin sniffled, then lifted her head, nodding. “We’re okay,” she reiterated with a sad smile.
Oliver let their words sink in and held them even tighter, overwhelmed by the sudden feeling that everything had changed tonight.
Only he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
6
Gavin answered the door, stepping back as Sean walked into Erin’s apartment. A week had passed since the fire. In many ways it felt as if someone had died, as he and Oliver tried to work their way through the stages of grief. The first couple of days afterwards had been spent trying to replace everything they’d lost—their wardrobes, phones, IDs, toiletries, and too many other fucking things to count. He’d been to the DMV, the insurance company, as well as making numerous trips to Walmart and Target.
Sean lifted up a huge bag. “Lauren’s been at it again. Found a sale online on Levis jeans. I think she bought them out of your size. Ollie’s too.”
Gavin chuckled as he took the bag. “I think we officially own more clothes now than before the fire,” he joked, though deep inside he was touched by the way the Collins family had rallied around him and Oliver, constantly stopping by to bring them everything from hand-me-downs to new clothes to items they “just happened to have extra” of. Though Gavin would bet his last dollar there was no way Aaron just happened to have two “extra” expensive electric razors laying around his house.