PROLOGUE: THE TUNNEL AT THE END
The entirety of Lono Haukea’s twenty-seven years on this earth had not prepared him for what he was about to walk in on.
He’d come home a day early from his trip to L.A.—exhausted, jet-lagged, and aching for a long, hot shower and the warmth of his boyfriend. Two weeks apart had stretched into an ache. All he wanted now was to come home, curl up in Kalani’s arms, and forget the world for a little while.
The key clicked in the lock. As he stepped inside the condo, he kicked off his sneakers and glanced down.
Josh’s red high-tops were sitting neatly by the door.
Lono blinked.
Josh?
A soft smile tugged at his lips. Perfect. His boyfriend and his best friend—under one roof. Maybe the universe was finally giving him a break.
He dropped his suitcase by the entryway and padded into the living room. Empty. Kitchen, empty. The condo was too quiet.
Then—he heard it.
A dull, rhythmic thud. Coming from the back hallway.
His feet carried him toward the sound before his brain could catch up. With every step, something inside him began to unravel. His hearing dulled. His hands went clammy. The world around him blurred like water running down glass. His stomach twisted into a cold, knotted pit.
His body screamed at him to turn around, but something deeper pulled him forward.
The bedroom door was ajar.
Lono reached out and eased it open, slowly, silently—like he was afraid of what he already knew.
And then—
Time stopped.
Josh was flat on his back, legs thrown wide over Kalani’s shoulders, as Kalani drove into him with reckless, brutal rhythm. Skin slapped against skin. Sweat glistened. Moans tore the air open.
Josh’s voice cracked like grief, high and raw, as he clutched at the sheets. “Harder, Kalani. Please—harder!”
Kalani groaned like a man possessed, hips pounding mercilessly.
“I—fuck—I’M GONNA COME,” he choked.
“Do it,” Josh cried. “Fucking fill me up—shoot that load in me—don’t stop—”
Kalani buried himself deep with a final thrust and collapsed forward onto Josh’s chest, both of them breathless, trembling, wrecked.
And in the doorway, Lono stood frozen.
His mouth was open, but no sound came out. His eyes burned. His heart dropped somewhere into his feet.
Josh saw him first.
He gasped—eyes wide, body jerking up. “Lono—!”
Kalani flinched and sat up fast, scrambling for the blanket. Josh fumbled to cover himself. And that was when Lono noticed it.
Josh was wearing his T-shirt.
His favorite T-shirt. The old gray one with the faded college logo that Josh had begged him to give up a hundred times because it “smelled like you.” Lono had said no. It was the one thing he didn’t want to part with. The one thing that made him feel like himself.
And there it was.
On Josh.
Kalani’s voice broke the silence.
“Babe—hey, baby, where’ve you been? I tried texting you last night and this morning—”
“I’ve been on a flight,” Lono said, voice flat. “I was at the airport all night. In the air. And this—this is where you were? This is what you were doing?”
Kalani looked stricken. “It’s not—babe, wait, I—”
“My boyfriend of seven fucking years,” Lono said, stepping into the room now, “and my best friend from grade school. Fucking each other.”
Josh held up his hands. “Lono, listen—it’s not what you think—it was just—spur of the moment—”
“Fuck off.” Lono’s voice was sharp now, clear. “You can both go to hell.”
He turned and walked out.
Kalani was on his feet in seconds, naked but chasing after him.
“Lono! Wait, please—”
He reached for Lono’s arm.
Lono flicked him off without even turning around.
The hallway stretched before him like a tunnel, and every step felt slow, echoing, like the universe had thickened around him. Kalani’s voice called his name again. Lono didn’t answer. He didn’t even look back.
Kalani caught up, tried again—grabbed for his wrist this time.
Lono yanked away, eyes glassy with rage.
“Don’t,” he said. Quiet. Final.
And then he was gone—shoulders squared, fists clenched, walking out of the apartment without another word.
Behind him, the hallway was full of naked silence.
The sound of a door slamming shut echoed like the end of a life.
