by Kristy Marie
Maybe that’s why she is asking you, dipshit. Maybe she’s trying to see if there is a soul buried deep in the impenetrable exterior of yours.
Or maybe she just feels bad? It wouldn’t be the first time someone invited me out of pity. It’s hard to tell with Milah. She’s not one who strikes me as taking pity on anyone. I’m not saying she’s mean or anything; I just think that her expectations are the same for everyone. She doesn’t expect any more or any less from anyone. And I should know, I’ve been eating lunch with her and Oliver for the past few weeks in the music room. I hadn’t planned on it, but somehow Oliver sucked me in with his mocha eyes, curious expression, and endless questions.
“So, are we going?” This question is posed by Kane, who looks like he would rather do anything else but go to Magic Michelle’s. He’s been doing a lot more with us lately than when he first arrived about eighteen months ago. He was standoffish and a complete asshole. If I’m being honest, he was not someone the guys and I were thrilled to have at the foundation.
Anniston found Kane while she and Theo were on their honeymoon. She handed him her card and offered him a bus ticket to Georgia. He was reluctant but eventually took her up on the offer and came to Georgia to meet with Cade. A few minutes into their meeting, both he and Cade decided he wasn’t a good fit for the foundation.
None of us argued the decision because we didn’t get a chance to speak with him. Then months later, he appeared again, helping Hayes when he was injured. Come to find out, he was watching us. Watching how we lived, how we functioned as a family.
When he called Anniston from Hayes’s side, he sealed his fate with ours. Anniston wouldn’t hear of him staying at the assisted living place. See, Kane had recently become an amputee, and like the rest of us, he’s had a hard time adjusting to civilian life. So asshole or not, I try not to judge. We all have our demons.
Still, that doesn’t mean I have to be super excited by his presence. A knot the size of Antarctica formed in my throat after learning he was coming too. Anniston insisted we all go. I like Kane, I do, but the thought of him saying something horrifically offensive or asshole-ish that may offend Milah and her roommate, Felipe, puts me on the offensive before we even leave the house.
I look at Cade, my voice strained, mouth tight. “What do you think? Should we all go?”
The reason I ask for Cade’s opinion is because I know he will be unbiased. Out of all of us, Cade is the most reasonable and thoughtful. He’ll put the needs of the group before the needs of just one. So, I feel confident he will give me the truth if this is a bad idea—for me and the family.
Cade types something on his laptop before he looks up, his face calm and unhurried. “I think it will be fine.”
I’m not sure how I feel about the word fine. I could always go by myself, but I’ve already asked them, and that would be shitty. And really, they all need to get out and have some fun. Since my hearing loss, I’ve brought the mood down around the foundation. My family, whether I meant it to happen or not, has suffered with me as I stayed locked away in my deep, dark, pity hole.
So tonight is partly about reuniting us as a family and partly about introducing Milah to my family. I know she has a lot of questions about the foundation, and I’ve gone out of my way to avoid most of them. I’m not embarrassed about where I live or who I live with, but I’m not eager to open up a portal to my past. The reason I have this family and the reason I live at the foundation has everything to do with my past. So, I would rather not rip off that bandage just yet.
Besides, Milah hasn’t been the only curious one. My family has noticed a change with me. Maybe not a big one, but a change nonetheless, and they think it has something to do with Milah. I can’t decide if they are right or not. But for now, I’ve kept tight-lipped about her and Oliver.
Well, except to Breck. I confided in her the other day about how Milah thought her cherry tarts were delicious, and I might have suggested that it’d be nice if she could put an extra in my bag for both of them. Knowing Breck, she baked twenty and put some in the freezer. That reminds me, I need to make her sit down more often. Carrying twins cannot be easy on her. I’m sure Cade has it covered, but just in case.
“Do you think B should come? You know, with her being pregnant and all.”
Cade’s mouth tips up in amusement. “You think she’s going to miss meeting this stripper—I mean, teacher of yours?”
For fuck’s sake. “She’s not a stripper,” I repeat for the rest of the smug-asses lounged out in Cade’s office. See where I get the teasing behavior from? When you live with shit on the daily, you pick it up. “And it’s a piano bar, not a strip club.”
Hayes is already shaking his head in laughter when he stands. “Don’t tell Theo. He’s been trying to convince Anniston for a couple’s lap dance. I can’t wait to see how disappointed he will be when he realizes we are going somewhere tasteful.”
I didn’t say it was tasteful, but I don’t know that it isn’t. I’ve never been inside before.
“Are you sure you want us all to go?” Cade signs. He speaks for the rest of them.
I swallow, looking around the room at Hayes and Kane. Surely, both of them will behave.
“Is Bianca coming?” I ask Hayes.
His eyes do something weird like he is picturing something, and then he says, without signing, “Absolutely.” And then, as if I needed another hint about his intentions tonight, he does this little front floss, thrusting type dance move. He intends to dance with her and probably cart her off on his bike to fuck her wherever they deem appropriate.
I guess it’s not that bad.
One more look at Kane, who is scowling at his phone, and I think it might be okay. If Kane gets bored, he can play on his phone. He’s probably playing a game with Bianca that will send Hayes into a fit of jealousy.
“Yeah,” I answer Cade’s earlier question, “I want you all to come.”
“Now is the time to back out, because once I get Ans into this club, I’m not leaving until I’ve fucked her somewhere filthy.”
I imagine collective sighs echoing in the car.
“Theo!” Anniston chides, but she isn’t mad. “We aren’t leaving Tim when we go in.” She gives me a little smile. “Unless he wants us to.”
At the rate they are going, and Theo’s murderous look, I’m thinking I’ll be fine alone. “I’m okay. I want everyone to have a good time.”
Theo grins slowly and devilishly. “That’s the spirit, Lambros. Now stop stalling and get the fuck out of the car. Ans and I only have a few hours before we have to pick Aspen up from the babysitter. I don’t want to miss seeing your girl in action.”
The car is silent when Theo jumps out and trots over to Anniston’s side to let her out. But the guys are laughing, I can feel it. The ones who know that this is not a strip club and Milah is not a stripper all have turned their faces away, smothering their laughs as their bodies bounce with the weighted movement.
“Whatever you do, don’t open the door until I have my phone ready. I want to record his reaction.” I shake my head at Hayes who pops his head through the open car door that Anniston vacated. “This shit is too good not to catch on video.”
It really is, but right now, as a creeping feeling of dread settles in my stomach, I can’t enjoy it. What was I thinking by coming here—to a concert? I don’t like when Milah signs to me at school, and I agreed to come to a concert of all things, so she could sign to me the entire time. It was her legs. It had to be.
Getting close to her, being between her legs has done something to my brain. Something terrible. I would have never agreed to this. Ever. As everyone is filing out of the car and chatting outside, I pull out my phone, hesitating. Fuck it. He started this.
Tim: I’m attending a concert tonight.
His response is almost immediate, which tells me he needs a life. Okay, fine, he’s a good doctor and quite possibly a good friend to have in my corner, even if I do give him hell on a weekly basis.
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Dr. Parker: Oh? And are you excited?
At first, I think, how does he know to always ask these questions? But then I think about it and realize, if I didn’t have an issue, I wouldn’t be texting him.
Tim: My friend, the teacher I told you about, asked me to come. She said she would interpret the music for me.
Dr. Parker: But now you’re scared?
Tim: I’m not scared.
Dr. Parker: Okay. So…
I run a hand through my hair, tugging it before I text Dr. Parker again.
Tim: Why did I say yes? I hate signing in daily conversations. Why would I agree to her signing a song for me? Why am I here?
I’m either desperate or braver behind a phone screen, because, face-to-face, I doubt I would ever ask Dr. Parker to analyze my behavior.
Dr. Parker: Maybe you don’t hate it as much as you think? Maybe you wanted to enjoy this evening with her?
Maybe asking him was a bad fucking idea.
Dr. Parker: Are you going in?
Ugh. I glance outside the window and see my family waiting on my cue. It’s one night. I can handle one night. Right?
Tim: Yeah, I’m going in.
Dr. Parker: I knew you would.
He doesn’t know shit but how to get on my last damn nerve. But I do pull my ass out of the car, shove my hands in my pockets, and say, “Let’s go see some strippers.”
Hayes was able to record it. Although, Theo didn’t act as dramatic as we all expected. He simply turned around, gave us the look of death, and said, “This is some bullshit. I’m still fucking her somewhere filthy, so don’t even think about leaving early.”
I nod, not bothering with his threat. Magic Michelle’s isn’t at all what I expected. The walls are painted with a deep gray with black leather sofas and armchairs spread throughout the wide space. A few tables are nestled in a couple of the corners, and the bar is full of patrons already.
“Wait, these aren’t women.” Mason looks confused as he looks around again, his hands frozen with his last sign.
“You’re correct. They are better than women.” A man, dressed in a long chiffon dress, with heels that look like something Milah would wear, extends his hand; his fingernails, I notice, are the same shade of red as his dress. “My oh my. I should have known hotness travels in packs.”
Anniston turns around so I can see her face and grins. “I like him.”
“Everyone likes me, doll,” he adds, without a look of regret for butting into my and Anniston’s conversation. “So, which one of you is Mr. Broody?”
Mr. Broody?
Like Milah heard him, she comes out of nowhere and tries to shove the guy to the side, but he never moves. Granted, he’s six foot, so Milah’s tiny five-foot self isn’t going to do much damage. “Felipe! Why didn’t you tell me they were here?”
“Mami,” he muses, taking a slow look around our group. “Because you didn’t tell me he was bringing hot friends.”
The strain on Milah’s face shows how awkward the situation is—for both me and her. “I’ve never officially met them, Pe, so thanks for making us look like lusty whores and commenting on their looks before we introduce ourselves.”
Her scolding stare has me smothering a laugh. For some reason, I don’t want her to feel awkward around my family. These guys dish out a lot of shit. They won’t give a fuck if someone comments on their looks. It probably made Hayes and Theo’s night.
“I’m Mr. Broody,” I say, holding out my hand to Felipe, Milah’s roommate, and flashing her a wink, which has her cringing. Don’t think I’ll let that little nickname go. Now I know what she has been calling me around her family. Granted, my family calls her “hot teacher,” so I think we’re even in that respect. Besides, Anniston says nicknames are only given when someone cares about the other person enough to even make up the name. Which means Milah might give a shit about me. Which I suspected since I might give a shit about her too. I’m here, aren’t I?
“Well, well, Mr. Broody. It’s nice to finally meet you. I have to say, Milah hasn’t been that forthcoming about—” He motions up and down my body with a long nail. “—you.”
“Oh my God, Pe!” Milah’s eyes are wide when she scans our group. “I’m so sorry. I’m Milah, Tim’s co-teacher.”
“You mean his boss,” adds Hayes, his hands signing along with his words. I make sure to look around to see if anyone saw him do it, but no one seems to care that we’re standing in the middle of the room chatting.
Milah grins. “I guess you could say that.” She doesn’t sign her words though, and I wonder if she saw me do a sweep of the place. But when she shakes each of my crew’s hands and introduces Felipe, I decide she didn’t catch it. Of course she didn’t, Tim. Everyone is here trying to have a good time. No one is worrying about if we’re being looked at. They’ve all signed since we walked in, which could look to outsiders like any one of us could be deaf.
“So, Felipe, do you have any grungy hallways that seem a little stripper-y?” I snap out of the signing debate when I see Theo half sign his words to Felipe. Did I interpret that correctly? “I thought we were coming to a strip club—” Milah’s eyes narrow at me, and all I can do is smile. “—and I was looking forward to some filthy romps against something that might end up with me needing an antibiotic later.” Have mercy on my soul. I interpreted it correctly. I guess I should be lucky he didn’t say worse.
“He doesn’t mean that,” I say, mostly because it’s the right thing to say. No one needs to know about Theo’s sexcapades this early into meeting him.
“Shut up, Lambros. That’s exactly what I mean. Point me to a good rug that won’t hurt her knees.” This time, Anniston pinches his side, and it makes the group laugh. Whether he really means to have a romp against something filthy or just tried to break the ice between all of us, I’ll never know. Theo works in mysterious ways.
Which apparently amuses Felipe. “A man after my own heart,” he praises, his hands clapping together. “Come, let me show you my and Marcus’s favorite places.” Felipe tugs Theo by the shirt, and the bastard has the nerve to wink as he follows behind two queens dressed crazily similar to Céline Dion (I googled her last night). “Behave, boys, Daddy will be back,” he tosses over his shoulder with a half-assed salute to all of us.
I groan, facing Milah. “I’m sorry. We debated leaving him at home, but Anniston wouldn’t let us.” I grin at my commander who just shakes her head. Technically, I did debate leaving him at home. I debated leaving them all at home, but I didn’t.
“Please,” Milah, says, her smile wider than usual. “You met Pe, right?”
I did, and for all the random thoughts running through my head about what he looked like and how their relationship works, I was pleasantly surprised to find a Latin Céline Dion with a quiet boyfriend at his side who looks like he models for cologne commercials.
“I’m sorry I forgot to mention he would be in drag.” She looks around the room. “Or that this was a drag bar.” Her face falls, and she waits for my answer. Her chest is still, and I wonder if she’s holding her breath.
“It is a shame,” I tell her, the flat line of her mouth morphing into a frown. “Had you told me, I could have warned the others.” Her eyes drop to the floor, and I realize this is a sensitive subject for her. I lift her chin. “Hayes is probably disappointed he didn’t get to dress up.”
At that, she grins, and when Hayes throws out that he and Bianca already have a bet on how many numbers he can pull, she starts laughing.
“So you’re not upset I didn’t tell you?”
I eye her little crease—not wrinkle—between her brows. “Why would I be upset?”
She shrugs. “Sometimes it bothers people.”
“Not this crew.” That’s for damn sure. Theo is probably behind that stage living his best life with being hit on. He doesn’t care what gender you are. If you want to compliment him, he will accept it. “We’re unconventional,” I add, “if you haven’t noticed. We don
’t tend to judge.”
You know, because we were all homeless, I say with my eyes.
“Right,” she says, a confident smile firmly on her face. “So you guys want a drink?”
With collective “Hell yesses,” I fall back and trail behind the others until Cade stops suddenly and faces me, his hands signing at chest level.
“I can see why you don’t mind going to work anymore.”
I look over his shoulder as a guy hoists Milah up and over the bar so she can pour my family drinks. Her dress is low cut with a slit cut midway to her thigh. The emerald color brings out the gold flecks in her eyes, and yeah, my jaw may have clenched a little. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tell Cade, struggling to keep my eyes on his mouth and not on Milah laughing with the bartender who is not dressed in drag.
Cade follows my line of sight and laughs. “I think you do, and I think you’re too far gone to do anything about it.”
He said the magic words. It doesn’t matter. Now, I’ve had a few men in my life, and some of them have been okay with Pe’s lifestyle and my relationship with him, but some haven’t called me again. The point is: I don’t give a shit about the others. If they can’t see Pe’s awesomeness, then it’s probably best they go. But Tim? I don’t want him to go.
“Okay, be honest, Milah. Do you lock Mr. Broody in the closet all day?” The guy Tim introduced as Hayes is hilarious. “We’re not judging. We stuff him in the barn when he just won’t shut the fuck up.” I laugh, the comment hitting me in the ovaries. I have thought about locking him in the closet, but not for talking. No, I have way more creative uses for his mouth.
