“You don’t move,” Jason said, and got up, rediscovering some equilibrium in the process.
Evan was leaning against the wall, texting, when Jason opened the door. He looked up, a sculpture of fluid Krav Maga instructor’s grace and the same brown eyes and straight nose he and Charlie had shared; they’d always looked alike, even moved alike, though Evan had always been younger and just shorter enough for jokes about it. He said, “Hey,” and lowered the phone.
“Hey,” Jason said. “So…you and Colby were planning things? Also, say hi to James for me.”
“I will. He’ll call me later.” Evan’s boyfriend was busy filming an old-fashioned detective thriller in Norway, though they talked constantly and sent each other pictures of ice cream shops and historical monuments. Jason cautiously approved of Jam
