I could really get used to touring with my boyfriend.

Although Everybody Else split up over a year ago, it was a no-brainer that Carrick would open for us again with his first solo album. I was the first one to suggest it, of course, but I think everyone knew he was coming on tour whether he was performing or not.

It’s just a nice little bonus that in addition to getting to spend all of my free time with him, I get to watch Carrick sing and play his heart out every night.

Our return to the west coast, which really feels like home after three years in California, is in a dark, dirty club with a shitty sound system. But the venue staff is nice and all too willing to cater to our every need, even those that aren’t legal in other states. When we load out for the night, I load up my laptop bag with little brown vials—edibles, smokeables and more.

I pop a few chocolate covered gummy worms before heading out to sign autographs. The THC in the chocolate gives me the nerve I need to handle the fans. They’re not so bad most of the time, but every now and then there’s a group with too many questions. Why did I really divorce Kate? Am I really dating Carrick? I answer them with a smile and a change of subject.

It’s not that I’m hiding him at all. It’s just that the truth is too complicated to ever try to explain, and I want the truth—like Carrick—to be all mine.

By the time I finally make it to the bus, I can hear voices in the back lounge. They’re too soft, murmuring and laughing quietly, for me to know who it is. It could be anybody, really. Well, maybe not anybody. And I damn sure don’t expect it to be Carrick and Taylor.

But it is.

They’re sharing a bowl of the good stuff, and Taylor’s leg is stretched across Carrick’s lap. Jealousy and anger bubble up and threaten to spill out of me, but the look on Carrick’s face stops me in my tracks. He knows me so well that of course he knows whatever this is looks really, really bad to me. But I know Carrick. I have to remind myself of that. I know him, and I know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.

The blame for this looking so bad lies squarely on my wonderful older brother’s shoulders, I’m sure. That thought is more reassuring than it probably should be.

“Come on in,” Taylor says, holding up the pipe.

I nod, but don’t speak to him. He scoots over, leaving a spot just the right size for me in between him and my boyfriend. These days, I really don’t feel so torn between them, but I can see that Taylor’s trying his best to remind me of that feeling. Nevertheless, I sit down and take the bowl he’s holding up. Another hit may be exactly what I need to deal with this turn of events.

And then another.

“Good show tonight,” Carrick says as I pass the bowl to him.

“You too,” I reply.

This small talk is strange for boyfriends who live together, but I don’t know how else to act with Taylor around. I hate that it’s still like this years later, but I suppose it will always be like this. My feelings for Taylor will never truly go away, but maybe they don’t have to as long as I don’t act on them. Most of the time, I don’t think about it at all. But then there are times like this, when all I can see is Taylor letting his hand linger on Carrick’s a little too long as they pass the bowl again.

I can’t help watching Taylor as he takes a long, greedy hit. His cheeks go all hollow and he stretches his neck out in this way that I’m sure is totally intentional and designed to turn me on. And it does. He knows it does. I want to hate him for it, but I can’t. There’s no room for hate and anger in my life anymore. More than anything, I just hope that Taylor can someday find the sort of happiness I’ve found, but I don’t think he would know if it was right in front of him.

But he’s right in front of me, and getting closer. It takes me a second too long to realize that he really is moving in, and then he’s right there, hovering mere millimeters away from my lips. He exhales and I let my mouth fall open to catch the cloud of smoke that escapes his. We’re as close to kissing as possible without actually crossing that line, and it’s the closest we’ve been in months.

So maybe I’m still tempted sometimes. Can you blame me?

But Carrick’s there, his hand on my back, bringing me back to earth. I lean back and let my eyes fall shut, the smoke seeping down my throat. It should feel so wrong to be here, sandwiched between Carrick and Taylor, and maybe it’s just the weed talking, but it really doesn’t. Taylor is my past and Carrick is my future, but sometimes I think I want to just live in the present.

And right now, in this present moment, I’m at peace.