Crazy Stupid Bromance

by Lyssa Kay Adams

  “I found some new music for us to try,” she said as they got into the car.

  He checked the mirrors and then pulled his seat belt on. “Plug it in.”

  As he backed out of the driveway, Alexis connected her phone to the car’s USB port and then hit play. A folksy, twangy sound filled the car—a harmony of banjos and fiddles and acoustic guitars. After a moment, his thumbs began to beat the steering wheel in time to the banjo.

  “I like it,” he said.

  She grinned at him. “Good. Because they’re going on tour and coming to Nashville in a few months, and I bought us tickets.”

  He laughed. “What if I’d hated them?”

  “You’d be too polite to say so and would then endure a horrible concert on my behalf.”

  “Accurate.”

  She turned up the volume. “This one is my favorite.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her lean her head against the seat and close her eyes. Alexis didn’t just listen to music. She existed in it, lived in it, let it run through her and merge with her cells. The first concert they went to together, he’d spent more time watching her dance than the show itself. Hips swaying and arms raised and eyes closed as if she were alone in the world, dancing without a soul in sight. Which is why she was right; even if he’d hated this new band, he would’ve taken her to the concert. But he wouldn’t have had to endure anything. Just watching her enjoy it would have been enough for him.

  The front door flew open almost as soon as Noah pulled into his mom’s driveway. A blur of bright red hair flew down the porch steps.

  “Zoe dyed her hair again?” Alexis asked, affection in her voice.

  “I’ve forgotten what her natural color is at this point,” he said.

  Zoe bypassed his side of the car and instead skipped over to the passenger door.

  Alexis opened her door, but before she could even get out, Zoe ducked down with a desperate expression. “Please tell me you brought food.”

  Zoe was a vegetarian too.

  “Stuffed mushrooms?” Alexis asked.

  “Dear God, I love you.”

  Noah snorted and told his sister to help them carry in the food. His mom greeted them in the foyer, balancing a large tray of raw steaks. “There you two are,” she said with a warm smile.

  Noah bent to kiss her head. “Hey, Mom.”

  She handed him the tray. “Just in time, birthday boy. Take these out to Marsh, will you? He’s out back fighting with the grill.”

  Noah traded her the cake for the steaks, and then his mom extended her free arm to Alexis for a hug.

  “It’s so good to see you,” she said, drawing Alexis in for a quick squeeze. “I’m so nervous, because I made that spaghetti squash recipe you sent me, but I’m sure it’s nowhere near as good as you’d make.”

  “I’m sure it’s amazing,” Alexis said.

  “She made stuffed mushrooms,” Zoe said with as much lust in her voice as Mack talking about centerpieces.

  His mom looked over her shoulder at him. “Go on,” she said with a shooing motion. “Get those steaks on the grill. We girls have to do some talking.”

  Alexis met his gaze and tried but failed to hide her smile. He’d just been dismissed from his own birthday party.

  Noah turned left into the formal dining room and walked through the kitchen. His mother had lived there more than ten years, but it still felt like a strange house at times. Probably because he’d never actually lived there.

  No, that wasn’t it. His father had never lived there. His presence was there in photos, but it wasn’t the same. Maybe that’s why his mom wanted to move. Her memories were harder than his. At least in this house, she didn’t have to think about the sight of a military car in the driveway. Didn’t have to remember looking out the window and seeing a uniformed marine and a chaplain walking up the sidewalk. Didn’t have to recall how her legs refused to work when the doorbell rang.

  “Don’t answer it,” she whispered, her back pressed to the wall, arms crossed over her chest.

  Noah went cold at the look on her face. “Who is it?”

  “No one. It’s no one.” His mom said it quietly, frantically, as if wishing it to be true. And then her hand flew to her mouth.

  Zoe clutched a throw pillow and drew her feet up onto the couch as if waiting to spring into action, climb the walls, fly straight out the window, anything to escape the fate that was now on the porch.

  Noah trudged on wooden legs to the door and pulled it open.

  Even then, Noah knew that some details would eventually fade. But he also knew that he would never, ever forget the sound of his mother’s scream as she collapsed to the floor.

  The sliding glass door scraped across the aluminum track as Noah walked out back. Marsh stood at a rusty propane grill that was held together with duct tape and nostalgia. He wore faded jeans and a Nashville Legends T-shirt. He looked over his shoulder and bypassed any form of greeting. “Come help me with this thing.”

  “Hi to you too.”

  Marsh fiddled with the burner and hit the ignite button. It made a clicking noise but nothing else. Marsh swore and swiped his hands over his graying high-and-tight haircut. “Damn thing belongs in a scrapyard. Why the hell won’t she buy a new one?”

  Noah bristled. “You know why.”

  Because that was the grill they’d bought as a Father’s Day gift for his dad. The one his dad never got to use. Noah set the steaks down on the patio table and took over on the grill. He got it started on the first try. “You have to let the gas run for a minute before trying to ignite it.”

  “Dinner is saved,” Marsh said dryly.

  “Alexis brought enough food to feed the Airborne, so we could’ve eaten that and been fine.”

  The sky-high arch of Marsh’s eyebrow meant he’d said too much. Marsh was always giving him shit about his relationship with Alexis.

  Noah stabbed a raw slab of meat and threw it on the grill. Marsh swatted his hand away. “Not yet, dumbass. You have to let it get hot first. Haven’t you ever grilled a damn steak before?”

  Noah rolled his eyes and stepped back.

  “Grab us a couple of beers,” Marsh said, nodding with his chin to a cooler by the back door.

  Noah grabbed two, twisted off the caps, and handed one to Marsh.

  Marsh took a long drink and then belched. “You sleeping with her yet?”

  Noah coughed and wiped the spittle of beer from his lips. “What the fuck, Marsh?”

  Marsh chuckled and took another drink. “That’s a no.”

  “My relationship with Alexis is none of your fucking business.”

  “Hey,” Marsh snapped, pointing his beer like a weapon. “Watch your mouth.”

  “Alexis and I are friends.”

  Marsh threw a steak on the grill. “No such thing as friends between men and women.”

  “If you’re trying out for Misogynist of the Year, you just won.”

  Marsh tossed another steak onto the grill. “It’s biology. Men want to sleep with women, not hang out and talk with them.”

  “Really? Does my mother know you feel that way?”

  Marsh’s face hardened. “Watch it.”

  “You get to give me shit but I can’t reciprocate?”

  “My friendship with your mother is a helluva lot more complicated, and you know it.”

  Yeah. Complicated as in neither one of them would date other people but had never dated each other because it was the ultimate betrayal of his father, and so no one was happy.

  Marsh took another long drink.

  “I signed a new client a couple of days ago,” Noah said.

  “Anyone famous?”

  Marsh was always hung up on the fact that Noah worked with celebrities. “Probably no one you know. He’s a young country singer.”
/>   “Good money?”

  “Enough.”

  “You meet with that financial planner yet?”

  Noah winced. This was a regular fight with Marsh. He couldn’t make the old man understand that Noah had no interest in meeting with his financial planner. Noah preferred his own investments, the kind that weren’t tied to propping up the fossil fuel industry. Noah had tried to explain it once, that there was a growing industry of socially conscious investing, but Marsh had scoffed, called it leftist bullshit, and told him he was throwing his money away.

  “I’ve made some progress,” Noah said simply, keeping the details to himself. A petulant part of him wanted to ram his most recent earnings report down Marsh’s throat. Or maybe the paid in full note on his mother’s house. Or the zero balance on Zoe’s tuition bills. She would earn her Ph.D. next spring without a penny of debt.

  That was enough for Noah. He didn’t need Marsh’s approval as long as he had theirs.

  And Alexis’s.

  Through the glass door, he could see her and his mom laughing over a scrapbook on the counter. Probably pictures of him from when he was a kid. From before his father died. There weren’t a lot of pictures taken afterward.

  Noah finished his beer. “I’m going to see if they need any help inside.”

  At the sound of the door against the metal track, they turned and stared. Zoe and his mom wore matching expressions of shock.

  “She just told us about the kidney transplant,” his mom said.

  * * *

  * * *

  “So, how does that even work?” Zoe asked fifteen minutes later at the dining table. She swallowed half a mushroom. “The transplant, I mean.”

  Alexis, who sat to Noah’s right, sipped her wine. “I’m still learning about it, but it looks like I would have to go through two rounds of testing to make sure I’m compatible. And if I am, then I’d have to go through a bunch of other tests before the surgery can be scheduled.”

  “How long does that take?” his mom asked.

  “Normally, about six months, but we don’t have that much time. Elliott probably needs the transplant by Christmas.”

  “Oh my gosh,” his mom said. “That soon?”

  “He had two other donors fall through.”

  “So if you’re not a match . . . ,” Zoe said, letting the unfinished part dangle like the fork in her hand.

  Alexis glanced at Noah before answering. “I don’t know.”

  The way she said it made Noah’s heart ache, because Alexis did know. It was quite possible Elliott would die, and dammit, Noah hated that she had that kind of pressure on her shoulders. He knew her well enough to know that if she wasn’t a match, she’d consider it a personal failing. Noah wanted to rest his hand on her neck, give it a reassuring squeeze, but Marsh was already watching them.

  “This must be such a shock for you,” his mom said. “And after everything else you’ve gone through the past few years.”

  Marsh made an indecipherable noise. Noah sent him a warning glare, which Marsh returned as he sawed off a chunk of meat.

  “So what are you going to do?” Zoe asked.

  “I’m not sure,” she said.

  Zoe snorted. “You’re a way better person than I am. I’d tell all of them to fuck off and leave my internal organs alone.”

  “For God’s sake, Zoe,” their mom admonished.

  “What?” Zoe shrugged. “I’m just saying that Alexis is basically a saint for even considering it. She’s never even met him, and she’s willing to—”

  “Wait,” Marsh said, cutting Zoe off. “You’ve never even met your father?”

  “Marsh,” his mother said quietly, firmly.

  “It’s okay,” Alexis said, stiffening as she straightened. “It’s not something I’m ashamed of. The truth is, no, I never knew my father. I still don’t really know anything. How they met. When they met. Why he left.” She swallowed hard at that last part. “But it looks like he’s been living just two hours away for most of my life.”

  “Where’s that?” Marsh asked.

  “Huntsville.”

  Marsh lifted an eyebrow. “He work for the military?”

  Alexis shook her head and started to answer, but Noah interjected. He knew where Marsh was going, and he wasn’t going to let him do it. “He’s an engineer,” Noah said.

  “For NASA?” Marsh asked casually. Too casually.

  “No,” Alexis said. “Some tech company.”

  Marsh leaned back in his chair and reached for his beer. “Most of the tech companies down there are defense contractors.”

  A heavy silence fell across the table. Alexis looked at Noah. Noah looked at Marsh. Marsh looked back. Zoe looked at her mushrooms.

  His mom sat up straight. “Does anyone want more squash?”

  * * *

  * * *

  Less than an hour later, after a hasty rendition of “Happy Birthday” and even hastier goodbyes, Alexis slid into the car and pinned Noah with a challenging stare. “So, what was that between you and Marsh?”

  Noah adjusted the rearview mirror before backing out. “Did my mom torture you with her dumb pictures?”

  “No. I liked seeing you in your Batman costume when you were seven, and I’m going to tease you forever about that unfortunate peach-fuzz phase from middle school. But stop avoiding my question.”

  Noah turned right out of the subdivision. “He doesn’t trust me.”

  “I knew it,” she seethed. “Because Elliott works for a defense contractor. He thinks you’re going to do something.”

  “Yep.”

  “But that’s not who you are anymore.”

  “I know.” He hung another right.

  “You haven’t been that person in a long time.”

  He glanced at her sideways. “I appreciate the indignation on my behalf, but in Marsh’s eyes, I’ll always be that person.”

  That person, of course, being an angry teenager with a genius IQ and a misguided need for revenge for his father’s death. A rebellious kid who ended up in FBI custody because of a reckless, failed attempt to hack into something way out of his league. A kid who never actually rose above the hacktivist version of coffee boy, who immediately agreed to consult for the FBI and testify against the big guys, but who in Marsh’s eyes would never, ever live up to his father’s sacrifice.

  Alexis jutted her jaw to the side. “I don’t understand why he’s so hard on you. Haven’t you proven yourself a hundred times over?”

  Noah merged onto the freeway. “It’s complicated.”

  She traded righteousness for sardonic deadpan. “A sister I never knew existed just showed up to tell me my long-lost father needs a kidney. I can handle complicated.”

  Noah peeled a hand off the wheel and massaged the back of his neck. “He promised my father he’d take care of us, and it made sense when Zoe and I were young and when Mom was having such a hard time. But now, it’s like he’s mad that we don’t actually need him anymore.” He let out a breath. “Sometimes I think he’s actually pissed off that I’m not that kid anymore, you know? The world doesn’t make sense to him if I don’t need an ass-kicking.”

  “I doubt your father wanted you to be Marsh’s emotional punching bag for the rest of your lives.”

  The insight—so precise and accurate and classically Alexis—was a sucker punch to his chest. He white-knuckled the steering wheel. “I’m more worried about my mom.”

  Alexis muscles went rigid next to him. “Is he mean to her?”

  “No,” he said quickly. “Trust me. I wouldn’t put up with that. I just feel like he’s the reason she’s never really moved on.”

  Alexis relaxed in her seat. “You think they’re more than just friends?”

  “I think whatever they are to each other, it’s not healthy.”

  “I
t’s hard to judge people’s relationships from the outside.”

  Her words managed to both scold and shame him, because he knew that better than anyone. He’d been fighting the outside judgments about his relationship with Alexis for months.

  A quiet ding from her purse saved him from having to respond. She dug around until she found her phone. She stared at the notification longer than necessary.

  “What is it?”

  “Candi.”

  “How the hell does she have your cell phone number?”

  Alexis pressed her fingertips to her temple. “I gave it to her before I knew who she really was.”

  “What does she want?”

  “She has to go back to Huntsville tomorrow night. She wants to know if I would be willing to meet her at her hotel.”

  “Tomorrow?” The question came out more defensive than he intended.

  Her answer was another one of those frustrating shrugs. “I don’t see how I can say no.”

  “Easy,” he said, loosening his grip on the steering wheel because he was about to pop a knuckle. “You just say no.”

  “She’s desperate, Noah. How can I stand by and force her to watch her father die knowing I might have been able to stop it?”

  Noah swiped his hand over his hair.

  Alexis stared at him. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m tired of you caring more about other people than yourself.”

  “We’re talking life or death here.”

  “Exactly. And you seem to forget that he’s not the only one whose life is at stake.”

  “These transplant surgeries are safe. They do thousands of them every year.”

  Noah wanted to argue but stopped himself. She didn’t need him putting more pressure on her than she was already putting on herself.

  Instead, he dragged a hand from the steering wheel and covered the tangle of hers on her lap. “How can I help?”