by Jen Doyle
“Because I do love you,” she continued, and he was pretty sure if he looked up at her again he’d see tears in her eyes. He could handle a lot of things. Seeing Fitz cry wasn’t one of them. “You’re one of my best friends in the world. We can’t mess with that, you know? I need you.”
His jaw clenched, he turned onto the street that connected with Lola’s. Thank fuck.
Then she squeezed—again—and the sensation went directly to his dick. Almost as if that’s where her hand actually was.
“That’s why we can’t, um...”
His heart was pounding in his chest. In his throat. He felt like he couldn’t breathe.
Fuck.
“...kiss.”
Right. Kiss. That’s what they weren’t supposed to do.
“Or, um, anything else.”
Pulling to a stop at the end of Lola’s driveway, Deke willed his hand not to shake as he shut off the truck and pulled the keys out of the ignition. He looked down at her hand—felt the heat still pulsing through every part of him, even the parts where he most definitely didn’t want it—and then up at her. He had no idea what look he gave her, but whatever it was made her sit back.
Her cheeks turned bright pink and she gave a little cough. “I... So... I’m glad we talked.”
That was a talk? Really? He twisted his wrist so that it was his hand on top. Heard her sweet little gasp, which didn’t help one bit.
“Could you say something?” she whispered.
No. Or at least he probably shouldn’t. But, well, good idea or not, that didn’t stop him. “Right now I can’t decide which I want more, to fuck those guys over or to just plain fuck. Clearly we’re not on the same page on either one of those things.”
The angel and devil made their obligatory appearance, but they were both just sitting there with their mouths hanging open. Probably because they knew that, yes, that was the absolute wrong route to go. But her eyes went wide even as they sparked with interest, her gaze very unhelpfully focused on his mouth.
Leaning in close to her ear, he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Her hair smelled like lemons. All citrusy and fresh. He turned his head just enough for the skin of his cheek to brush the skin of hers. For her breath to catch in a hitch.
“So I need some time to get my head on straight. We can talk again after that.”
Then he pulled back, let go of her hand and got himself out of the truck.
* * *
Unsurprisingly, Fitz kept her distance from him for most of the night. And Deke, well, he kept his distance from everyone. Since he and Lola were the only ones at this non-Father’s Day barbecue who had a dad nearby and accessible, Deke decided to stick close to his and help man the grill.
It wasn’t the best idea since his dad could read him better than he thought. The first thing his dad said was, “You okay?”
His eyes flicked over to where Fitz was taking an active role in a fairly raucous water balloon fight started by Nate and Emily. Was it not possible for the woman to stay dry for once? “Phenomenal,” he said.
His father laughed. “Want to try that again, son?”
After a glance at his dad, Deke returned his attention to the grill. “No,” he muttered. “I really don’t.”
His father didn’t respond right away. Long enough, in fact, for Deke to think the conversation was over, which was fine by him. He had a good relationship with his dad. They talked about the bar, about Lola and the kids, sports, and even sometimes, when they were being ambitious, town politics. With the exception of “the talk” when Deke was around twelve, it didn’t usually get much more personal. Frankly, Deke liked it that way.
So he wasn’t at all ready for his father to turn to him, voice rough. “Are you happy, Max?”
Deke honestly didn’t know what to say to that. He wasn’t ready for the emotion in his father’s voice. And, to be honest, he wasn’t very happy at the moment. That was an entirely new thing, too. But he wasn’t about to admit it. “I... Sure. I mean—”
“I know you started taking classes for your MBA.”
Deke’s head snapped up. He hadn’t told anyone about that. And anyway, it hadn’t gone anywhere.
“And then Dave died and you put everything on hold to be what Lola needed.”
“Anyone would have done that,” he mumbled.
“Yeah, for all of two weeks—maybe two months. But two years?” He shook his head and the emotion they’d all felt after Dave’s death was written clearly on his face. “I’d give anything to fix that for Lola. I’d sell my own soul.” He paused, clearly to get himself under control. When he looked back up again, though, the only thing shining in his eyes was pride. “But I watched my son become a man that day.”
Deke looked down at the grill. “Dad...”
“Then something happened about six months back,” his father continued as if Deke hadn’t spoken. “I’m not sure what it was other than you stopped hopping from bed to bed.”
For possibly the first time in his life, Deke’s cheeks heated in embarrassment. He’d made his choices and didn’t regret them. The life he lived was the life he lived. It might not have been the most profound in terms of giving back to the world, but he was careful in how he treated people. Except right now he couldn’t look his father in the eye.
“Yeah,” his dad continued. “There was definitely a change in you and it was a good one.”
Well, okay then. He didn’t have anything to say in response. Especially because the only thing that had changed six months ago, as far as Deke remembered, was that Fitz moved into Lola’s house and he suddenly found himself hanging out and watching things like The Voice. Though it had done wonders for him trivia night-wise, that was pretty much it.
“Do you want a family, son?”
Deke jerked his head up. Where the hell had that come from?
“I’ve got the boys,” he answered. “They’re all I need.”
“That’s not what I asked and you know it,” his dad snapped. “Those boys are so lucky to have you. Lola tells your mom how grateful she is every day.”
“She does?” That was a...surprise.
But as if he hadn’t spoken, his father went on, “You’ve been the best son a man could have. Watching you grow up has been a gift. I just hoped that by this time in your life...” He paused as his voice caught again. “I’d love to see you with a family of your own. To see you become a husband and father.”
“Dad...”
“But mostly I just don’t want you to find yourself behind that bar twenty years from now, just you and your regrets.”
Regrets? Deke didn’t have any regrets.
It wasn’t that Deke didn’t want a family—those kids rushing him today was possibly one of the best things he’d ever experienced. He just hadn’t thought about it much. He’d never met a woman he wanted to spend that kind of time with. Hell, part of the reason he hadn’t had sex in so long was he preferred poker nights and trivia nights and hanging out with Fitz and the boys to heading out to a noisy bar and making small talk with some woman he’d just end up comparing to...
Well, no, he didn’t really compare women to Fitz. But he’d be on his way out for a night and then turn around because he’d rather spend his night off with Fitz and the guys. Sometimes he’d even make it as far as a woman’s place and he’d be kissing her and...
And, no. Fitz was not the reason he hadn’t had sex in six months. That couldn’t be.
Jesus Christ, he needed to get laid. By someone other than Fitz.
But, fuck. Where had all that come from? “You’re not dying, right?” Deke said. “I mean, I know this trip you and Mom have coming up is almost as bad, but you’re freaking me out a little.”
To be honest, the idea of his parents driving a rented RV and tooling around the Badl
ands in their T-shirts with the pictures of Lola’s kids on them was kind of hilarious. And frighteningly awesome in a way Deke didn’t want to think about. Still, it wasn’t until his dad laughed and shook his head that Deke breathed easy again.
“It’s Father’s Day,” his dad said. “I get to say whatever I want.” Then he laughed, and did that always awkward clap on the back/hug thing before calling out for people to come get their food. Deke, on the other hand, kept his head down and avoided any further conversation. With anybody.
He somehow managed until the end of the night. But by the time they reached the end of the evening, with the younger kids in bed and the older ones inside with the grandparents, it was Lola’s turn, apparently. With everyone sitting around her fire pit, beers in hand, she kicked him—although she would have said she was just nudging his shin with her foot—and said, “What’s up your butt?”
Deke took a drink of his beer. “Nothing. Can’t a guy just sit and chill?”
She snorted. “That’s not you ‘chilling.’ That’s you getting all broody. After your kids won and you played an awesome game. What’s your deal tonight?”
The deal was he was in a shitty mood to begin with. And then his dad had put all these crazy ideas in his head, but the only woman on his mind at the moment was Fitz.
“There is no deal,” he snapped. “I’m fine.” It probably would have been better if he hadn’t glanced over at Fitz when he spoke, but that was through no choice of his own. And as long as he was thinking about choice, he definitely wouldn’t have chosen for Lola to roll her eyes and say, “Liar,” while deliberately ignoring every I-do-not-want-to-talk-about-this-shit vibe he was sending in her direction.
Then Wash picked up the thread. “Christ. It’s bad enough when I’m not getting any. But when you aren’t, that’s bad news for all of us.”
It wasn’t at all helpful when Nate snorted and said, “Works just fine for me,” as he glared in Deke’s direction.
Deke made sure he stared right ba—
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Fitz threw her hands up into the air. “It’s not about Deke’s sex life, okay?”
It, uh, kind of was, but if Fitz was able to get Nate off Deke’s case, then all power to her. Except then she looked straight into Deke’s eyes, and he could tell from the grim determination in the set of her mouth that she was taking it in a direction she didn’t want it to go. And it made him feel like shit.
He leaned forward. “Fitz...”
Tell them I kissed you. Tell them I said I wanted to fuck you, for Christ’s sake. Call me the shallow asshole they all know me to be and move their attention on to the next thing. He’d honestly rather that than have her put herself out there in a way she didn’t want. It was his fault something she’d kept under wraps for so long was all being dragged out again.
But she sat back in her chair, and, with a sigh, said, “Okay. I’m only going to talk about this once.”
And then she told them the same story Deke had heard from Nate, although definitely with a different spin. It really did seem like she hadn’t been afraid. Like it hadn’t crossed her mind they could have done some serious damage and the idea of anyone else thinking along those lines came as a surprise. Clearly, however, it wasn’t just Deke. The waves of rage pouring off Nate were so strong, Deke wouldn’t have been surprised if he suddenly morphed into the Hulk. Wash and Jason were clearly getting the hint not to make a big deal out of it, but it was obvious they would have been just as happy to hunt Lyle Butler down as Deke was.
“So the point of this all,” she glared at Nate and Deke before turning to the others—who, incidentally, got reassuring smiles instead, “is that it’s done,” she said, her gaze directed at Jules, Ella, Lola and Dorie. “Over,” she added, with more exasperation as she turned toward Wash and Jason. “I don’t need you to fix this. I didn’t then and I don’t now.” Smiling more for them than for herself, Deke was sure, she added, “I mean, when you guys closed ranks around me, I was the envy of every girl in school. Any fixing to be done got taken care of then.”
Yeah, they’d closed ranks. Literally. It was the nickname that had started it, but now Deke understood why Nate had orchestrated an intervention of sorts. None of them had known why, but he was pretty sure the others felt as bad as he did about Fitz by that point, because not one of them had questioned it. And Deke could still remember how alone Fitz had seemed that day as she’d sat in the cafeteria all by herself. How fragile she had been. The hush that had come over the crowd as he, Wash, Jason and Cal followed Nate through the cavernous room.
By the time they’d reached her table, the entire place had gone dead silent. And with the full attention of every person there, Nate put his tray down on her table and reached behind him to pull an Iowa Dream basketball jersey out of his back pocket and then pulled it on over his T-shirt. Then the rest of them put their trays down too and did the same thing. The stunned look on her face when Wash had turned so she could see the “Team Wade” written on the back got him a little choked up even to this day.
With all eyes on them by that point—even the teachers had been staring—Nate’s words rang out for everyone to hear. “Next asshole who even thinks about giving my sister shit answers to us first.” Then he sat down across from her, waited for the other four to sit down as well, and proceeded to eat his lunch as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
From that day on, it was. She was theirs and they were hers, and they hadn’t left her side since. One thing on which Deke was absolutely clear, no matter how things played out between them? He never would.
“I love you all so much,” she said now, looking down at the ground. “It took me a little while to get there. I won’t lie. But knowing you were all there was what helped make it okay.”
No one said anything for a few moments, and even though she was smiling now and staring down Nate until he finally nodded at her in acceptance, all Deke wanted to do was wrap her up in his arms and take her away.
Luckily, before he could give in to that inclination, Wash broke the silence, surprising everyone entirely, by saying, “I hated this place when I came to live here. Hated it.”
Everyone other than Nate, at least. Nate seemed to know exactly what was coming. Apparently Fitz wasn’t the only one whose secrets he’d kept.
“In case you guys hadn’t noticed,” Wash was saying, “I’m black.”
Deke couldn’t help but laugh softly as he brought his bottle of beer to his mouth. “Is that so?”
Grinning himself, Wash nodded. “Hate to tell you, it’s not just a good tan.” After taking a drink of his own beer, he added, “It might shock you, but there aren’t exactly a lot of black folk around town. Just Dorie and me, I think.”
That got a laugh out of everyone since Dorie, though half Irish, had clearly taken after the Italian side of her heritage, with the olive skin and darker coloring that came along with that. She was not, however, black.
Jason, picking up the thread, smiled and gave a nod of his head as well. “Inspiration does appear to be lacking families of African-American descent.”
Though he smiled again, Wash brought it back to the serious side. “Not sure if you ever realized it, but I didn’t have a ton of friends when we were growing up.”
That was actually something Deke did remember noticing once upon a time. He talked about it with his parents once he’d been old enough to see that, no, he hadn’t been imagining it. But he also hadn’t given it too much thought because if people didn’t want to hang out with them, that was their problem as far as he was concerned.
Wash looked up at Nate. “Do you remember how it was that I came to be on the basketball team?”
Jason laughed and nodded in a way that made clear that he remembered, although, to be honest, Deke had no clue.
“Someone decided that because I was black,” Wash
continued, “I was obviously good at basketball and wanted to play on the team. And, fuck...” Wash continued, picking at the label on his beer bottle and tearing it, “...don’t even get me started on the dating scene.”
Now Deke found himself staring at Wash. How could he not have known that? How could he not have had a clue about how Wash had felt growing up?
“At least you could get a date,” Jason added, clinking his beer against Wash’s. “Try being the biggest nerd ever in a sea of Nordic gods.”
“Oh, please,” Ella said, rolling her eyes. “You never had a problem getting girls.”
“No,” Jason corrected. “Deke and Nate never had a problem getting girls. Chicks only hung around me because it meant getting close to them. Until college, at least.”
His beer halfway to his mouth, Deke shook his head. “That’s not true.” Women loved the whole surfer thing Jason had going on: a mop of blond, curly hair, blue eyes and a grin that sucked people in. Deke had been in enough bars with the guy to have seen it firsthand.
But Jason shook his head right back. “Remember how I came to be on the basketball team?”
With a bark of a laugh, Wash said, “You were riding your bike past us when we were setting up the basketball hoop that day.”
“That day” being the one after the tornado had hit that long ago July, when the photographer had caught Nate and Wash hoisting up the basketball net in the midst of the rubble behind the high school. The picture went on to win a Pulitzer prize, and marked the beginning of the Iowa Dream.
“You guys and Cal needed a fourth,” Jason said, still laughing, “because Deke was off getting laid.”
Well, yeah. Deke’s hand tightened around his beer bottle. Lacey James. But that was seventeen years ago and there was absolutely no reason for him to provide confirmation. So with everyone’s eyes on him, Deke forced himself to casually shrug and sit back in his chair.
“The only reason I said yes,” Jason went on to say, “was because you were the only guys who had ever been nice to me.”
