by Alex Jane
You better be home, girl. I need a fucking drink.
The reply came quicker than expected. I sure am. Everything OK? :-(
Justin had to chuckle as he replied, Hell if I know. You are NEVER going to believe who is sitting in front of me right now.
3
Justin had to wait a while before he got that drink. The morning after what had turned into a family night Q and A, his mom had roped him into helping with the groceries and spoiled him rotten with a fancy lunch for the two of them and Kyle who met them after his shift ended. As much as Justin loved his extended family—Kyle's brothers, Joel, and the bikers who seemed more like family than friends—when it was finally just the three of them, that was something to be savored.
As far as Justin was concerned, the fact Kyle had taken on his role of surrogate father wholeheartedly made him extra special. Justin hadn't seen his sperm donor for so long he'd forgotten what he looked like and, in truth, never gave him a second thought other than to take the ten bucks out of the cards that arrived on his birthday and Christmas before throwing them away without even looking inside. Kyle had been there for him every second since he was eight years old, and Justin tried to go out of his way to be a good son even if he hadn't turned out quite the way Kyle might have hoped. If the big, tough, intimidating cop had ever been ashamed of his gay, cheerleading, fabulous stepson then he had never let on, and he'd done a great job of hiding any disapproval considering how close the two of them had become.
Casey, on the other hand, was not tight with her family at all. They seemed to be civil enough to one another, but no matter how much she tried to impress them, they never seemed to connect. Which was why it was so weird that her two workaholic parents had a tendency to schedule every minute she was home from Stanford. It was as if they had never really noticed she was a grown woman who didn't need activities thrust upon her to keep her busy and out of their hair.
Not that she made it home often. She whined and made out her work schedule was as rough as Justin's, but in reality, it seemed Casey liked to party more than anything. He'd thought college might change her for the better, make her settle down a little now that she would have to actually study to get good grades instead of simply coasting. Except it was clear that even getting into one of the best schools in the country wasn't going to change her. All of which meant he wasn't sure she was going to be able to get away for their drinks date until she'd texted him to announce her plans as he was sitting down to dinner.
When he got to the bar she had chosen it was full to bursting and painfully loud with conversation and laughter. A defiant summer hit played full volume as if the vibe could block out any hint of the icy blast of wintery wind pushing its way in whenever the door was opened.
Justin shucked his jacket, pulling his hat from his head and shoving it into one of the sleeves so he didn't lose it. He'd learned his lesson after his favorite hat had disappeared into thin air before he'd left for college and still mourned its passing when the cool weather rolled around every year. Scanning the room, he glanced over the heads of the customers milling around, hoping for a sign of his friend at one of the jam-packed tables. It was a somewhat different crowd than he would see at his uncle's bar, but that was kind of the point of them going out of their way to cross town and drink there. At least here he'd be surrounded by relative strangers, not strange relatives always poking their nose into his business. He didn't mind most of the time, but for some reason he'd gotten the impression none of them had ever liked Casey all that much, which made things difficult when she'd been his best friend since elementary school.
When he couldn't see her familiar red hair anywhere, he made his way to the bar, leaned up against it, rested his forearms on the gleaming bar top, and gave his best, most brightest, smile to the bartender, hoping to swing an extra-large measure when he ordered a drink for himself and his absent friend. He didn't have to wait very long for the drink or for her to show up. A slim arm slipped around his waist just as the bartender was giving him a wink as he dropped his change into his open palm.
"You shouldn't have," Casey said, too loudly in his ear, giving him a proprietary squeeze. From the way she was giggling and the alcohol on her breath, it appeared she had gotten started without him.
"I can drink them both myself if you want," Justin said with a smile, before turning and dragging her into a bear hug. It had been months since they'd seen each other in person, although they would Skype once a week. Well, when they had first moved away from home it was once a week, but the last eighteen months or so getting hold of her had become more and more difficult. "You look good, honey," Justin added as he pushed her to arm's length. Not that he would have expected anything less. She had a habit of spending more on herself—clothes, skincare products, and gym membership mostly—than Justin ever did, which was saying something. He thought she looked a little tired around the eyes, although he could easily put the shadows down to the crappy lighting in the place.
"You don't look so bad yourself," she said, grabbing her drink from the bar and taking a large mouthful. "But enough of the pleasantries. What I really want to know is…" She put down the glass long enough to hold up both hands, fingers splayed, eyes open wide. "What the actual fuck!"
Justin laughed, though he felt a little uncomfortable at her enthusiasm, and looked around for somewhere a little less public to talk. She might not care if they were standing next to a bunch of people clearly eager to listen in to their conversation, but he did. When he spotted a couple getting up from a table near the back, Justin took her by the arm and dragged her through the crowd to claim the coveted seats before somebody else did.
"You weren't kidding about seeing him, were you?" Casey said as she pulled her arms from her puffy jacket and hung it over the seat of the empty chair next to them. "Because if you were, it wasn't funny."
Justin shrugged one shoulder. "Nope. I wasn't kidding."
"Jesus Christ, what happened?"
Something about the way she said it had Justin strangely reluctant to tell her. It wasn't only that Casey had always seemed to have a problem with Roman—even though she swore blind that she didn't—but telling her everything meant he would have to give some reason why Roman was staying with his uncles when he should be home with his family, and that wasn't his secret to tell. They might not be friends anymore, but Justin had always been fiercely protective of Roman even when things were really bad between them.
"Not much to tell really," he said with a shrug of his shoulder. "I thought I'd surprise them but then he showed up with Chase and Joel literally the minute I got home and I could've died."
"Oh my god," Casey said, laughing and putting her hand over her mouth. "I would have loved to have seen the look on your face. Actually, scratch that, I would have loved to have seen the look on his stupid face. Did you run screaming from the room like a little girl?"
Justin scoffed. "No. What do you take me for?" He paused for dramatic effect before going on. "I tripped over my suitcase, then I ran out screaming."
"Please tell me you hid in your room?"
"Pfft, where else was I going to hide?"
Casey laughed loud enough to draw attention from the other side of the room over the music as she clapped her hands together in delight. "It really is Christmas." She squealed. "Please tell me things went downhill from there?"
Justin shifted in his seat and swiped the condensation from his glass with his thumb. "Sometimes I honestly wonder why we're friends," he said with a wry smile and a shake of his head.
In truth, the evening before hadn't been so bad. Justin had submitted to the usual interrogation with good grace and repeated all the things his mother wanted to hear about how he was eating properly and keeping up with his assignments.
Kyle had watched him with his stern cop's expression when he promised he wasn't drinking or partying too much—which had made Justin laugh. Kyle always seemed to be bracing himself to catch Justin in a lie. Except there was never any lie to
find.
Justin had passed on Will's love and updated his family on his roommate's endless stream of boyfriends, skillfully evading any questions about that area of his life. He'd talked about his job at the gym and how the manager was making noises about how sad they'd be to lose him when Justin had to leave for good, which gave him high hopes for a great reference. He'd talked about his course load and how much he was enjoying the idea that college would be over soon and he could start looking for somewhere to get his master's.
And the whole time, Roman had sat quietly at one side, not asking questions, pretending not to be paying particular attention to anything Justin was saying.
It had been strange in a way, having Roman in the same room with him but so far away. They had often sat together on that very couch, shoulder to shoulder, watching TV or listening to one of the uncles regaling them with some tale of bad behavior or sporting prowess; holding hands while they'd pretended everything was fine and that Roman wasn't hiding out after having had yet another argument with his parents; or with their arms wrapped around each other, Justin climbing onto Roman's back, laughing as they'd celebrated the day Roman had got his scholarship, and the proud look on Chase's face when they'd broken the news to him.
After all those moments, it didn't seem wrong for Roman to be there, but the fact he was so distant, out of reach, was strange. It hadn't helped that every time Justin's gaze had flicked over in Roman's direction, Roman had been staring right back at him, a slight smile on his face and sadness in his eyes.
"Seriously though," Casey said, folding her arms over her chest. "It must've been so weird for you to see him again."
Justin gave another half-hearted shrug. "At first, I guess. I mean, it wasn't as if I've forgotten what he looked like or anything. But he looked good, you know, like really good, and I'm standing there like a sweaty idiot, just off the plane after eight hours of breathing other people's excretions, and he was all…" Justin made vague shapes in the air with his hands. "Looking fucking perfect and —"
The way Casey was looking at him had Justin shutting his mouth. "You know what? I'd actually rather not talk about it. Come on, tell me what's going on with you. I haven't spoken to you since before Thanksgiving. You must have gotten up to something interesting by now. How did things work out between you and that TA? Was he as good in the sack as you had hoped?"
"Don't change the subject. Did something happen?" Casey was regarding him with a quizzical look on her face that he knew damn well wasn't coming from a place of kindness. "It's not like you to not want to talk about your ex at every given opportunity."
Justin narrowed his eyes at her, somewhat irritated. "Are you trying to lawyer me? You haven't passed the bar yet, you know."
To say Casey's reaction to that was a surprise would have been an understatement. She went from going for the jugular to fading flower in the blink of an eye. Justin wasn't sure if he'd ever seen her so coy, but then she came back blazing.
"Do you know that answering a question with another question generally means that you're hiding something, right?"
Justin laughed. "You see the irony in what you just said, right?"
"Are you seriously telling me that after all this time, one brief glimpse of his muscular thighs has you holding a candle for Roman fucking James again?"
There was no way in hell Justin was going to be answering the question truthfully. His complicated feelings were too hard to explain to someone like Casey, who saw everything in black-and-white. When he and Roman had broken up, he'd known he would never recover, not in some teenage angst kind of way, where every romance was the love of your life right up until the next best thing came along, but because he knew he could never fall out of love with Roman, mostly because he didn't want to. Perhaps if he had been more grown-up about things, he would have made more of an effort to let go of his feelings. But he had been eighteen and angry enough that he'd wanted to hold on to every memory and emotion, to punish himself as much as anything. Casey was never going to get that, and quite frankly it was none of her fucking business. Especially when she was being such a bitch about it.
"There's no candle, even though the thighs are still a thing of beauty." Justin figured it wasn't a lie, being there was technically a bonfire of affection inside him for Roman. "And I don't see how it would matter even if there was." When Casey rolled her eyes, Justin couldn't help clench his jaw and mutter, "I could never understand what your problem was with him."
"I told you I don't have a problem apart from the shit he put you through." The reply came a little too quickly for the sentiment to be convincing.
"Okay, well in that case, you must have had a problem with us."
"I don't have a problem with anybody," Casey said, tossing her hair and trying to sound confident, although Justin thought she was a tequila away from slurring her words.
"Well, it looks as if you have a problem with something," Justin said. "What the hell is going on with you? And don't say nothing. You walked in here drunk and now you're looking for a fight? Don't tell me nothing's wrong. I've known you too long."
Justin hadn't imagined for one second that Casey would break down and cry, or confess her deepest darkest shame, but he didn't expect the defiant look on her face or the way she dug her nails into her skin. After a long stretch of silence, she finally said something, but her reply was lost in the hubbub of the room, and Justin wasn’t sure that the words he'd caught made sense.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"I said, I'm quitting college."
Justin still couldn't quite believe his ears, and not meaning to be flippant, picked up his glass and sniffed the contents before setting it back on the table. "Please tell me you're joking." Casey shook her head slowly from side to side and he knew she was serious. "Jesus Christ, why in the world would you even consider doing something so stupid?"
Becoming a lawyer was the only thing Casey had talked about all through high school. She was smart enough to get good grades, maybe not smart enough to get a scholarship but then it didn't matter when her parents knew enough people to get her into a good school. Being lawyers themselves they'd supported her plans and had been passably proud when she had decided to follow in their footsteps. To a lot of people her choice of career didn't make much sense, at least not to the ones who only saw her night after night in the clubs, but it had always made sense to Justin that she should use her brain for something other than dancing. Her cheerleading days had been done the moment she'd received her acceptance letter.
Although, looking her over as she sat across the table from him, Justin had to wonder what, if anything, was going on in that brain of hers. A thought crossed his mind and he had to ask. "When you say quitting college, do you mean you're thinking about it, or that you've done it already?" The way she flinched was all the answer he needed. "Oh my god, did you seriously drop out with two semesters to go?"
It took a moment for her to answer. "Drop out might not be the right way to phrase it."
Justin almost leaped across the table, but settled on leaning over, wanting to whisper but having no chance with the volume of the ambient music. "If you tell me you flunked, I'm going to start thinking I'm upside down."
"I may have missed an assignment deadline or two."
"Or two?"
"Or five. Look—"
"No, you look. I know you worked harder than you want anyone to know to get into that school. I don't understand how you could let it slip through your fingers like this."
"There was no slipping," Casey said, her voice snippy and defensive. "I just decided taking the bar wasn't for me. I thought it was what I wanted to do and then I realized it wasn't, so I stopped. End of."
"I see," Justin said, not comprehending for a second where she was coming from. "Are you pregnant?"
Casey laughed but it sounded bitter. "No." A sly smile slipped onto her face. "Unless you're offering?"
Justin shivered and pretended to gag. He'd never found her attempts at fli
rting with him to be funny in the slightest and didn't give a shit if he hurt her feelings. "So what is it you've decided to do instead? Become a goat herder? Or perhaps going into stripping full-time?"
"I thought you of all people would understand. Christ, you sound like my parents," she muttered.
Justin's eyebrows shot up. "You told your parents? Holy crap, you should've led with that. Did they lose their minds? Are you sleeping on a park bench until the New Year? Do you need me to start a GoFundMe? Should I call Ellen?"
"Your concern is touching," Casey said, a genuine smile reaching her lips as she jabbed at the ice in her glass with her paper straw. "They've been happier, that's for sure. I think Dad is in denial. Keeps talking about when I go into practice and about where the best place for an internship would be. Pretty sure Mom is in shock. She hasn't spoken to me since I told them."
"What are you going to do?"
Casey shrugged, and taking hold of her empty glass, stood abruptly. "Well, the first thing I'm gonna do is get another fucking drink."
There wasn't anything else to say to that, so Justin held up his empty glass and let her take it and stumble away into the crowd. If he was going to have to tackle another one of her stupid life decisions, he was definitely going to need another drink.
4
As much as Justin had been looking forward to his vacation, his time away from college was never as restful as the word vacation implied. Not when there was a family business to run, and being part of the family meant he had to do his bit and had been expected to do so even before he was technically old enough to be hanging out in a bar.
The place the brothers owned together had been passed down from their parents and, from what Justin could gather, very little had changed in all that time. They might have spruced the walls up a bit with a lick of paint once in a while and—since Tyler had taken over the day-to-day management—there might have been a few more bikers cluttering up the tables, but they had kept the same songs on the jukebox, same well-worn bar stools, the same friendly feel and no-nonsense policy that brought in a mishmash of people from all over town for greasy food and cold beer.
