by Meg Harding
Jaden ran his fingers through his hair, leaving furrows that ruffled into place a second later, and stepped back. “Come on in.”
The knot of insecurity in his stomach unwound and, bag swinging from his fingers, Chase crossed the threshold. He didn't know what he expected, maybe for the house to feel different now that Lily-Anne wasn't in it, but her boys had kept it the same. The pictures were still on the walls, and her shoes were still on the rack just behind the door. He had to remind himself she wasn't going to come walking down the stairs to greet him and offer lemonade. Habit had him removing his shoes, setting them on the top rung of the shelving unit.
As he followed Jaden into the living room, where The Big Bang Theory was playing on the TV, laugh track loud in the silence, he couldn't help but notice Jaden still wore his brown boat shoes. They matched his khaki pants and his short sleeved button-up. Chase smiled. Jaden reminded him of those preppy guys on Ivy League campuses with their sweaters tied around their necks.
“What college did you go to?” he asked.
“NYU.” Jaden looked at him, brows furrowed. “Why?”
Yeah, Chase. Why? Chase scratched the side of his nose. “I’m curious. Like, this is me making small talk, trying to get to know you.” If Chase returned the favor, giving Jaden a piece of his history, would Jaden put two and two together? Would he realize who Chase used to be? That he was in the presence of someone who could have been a star if he hadn’t drunkenly crashed his car into a telephone pole and ruined his future football career. Did it matter if Jaden did realize? No. “I went to Texas A&M.”
“That’s nice.” Jaden’s tone was stilted, not in an unfriendly way, but in a manner that said he wasn't well versed in small talk. That or it made him uncomfortable. Chase thought it was probably a mix of the two. There was no recognition on his face, though. No matching Chase’s name with the national headlines following his accident. He didn't know why it was a relief. It wasn't like Chase’s history was a secret. Hell, right after it happened he was hard-pressed to find anyone who didn’t want to act like they knew what went down better than he did. Maybe that was why he was so hesitant to reveal his past now.
Jaden hovered in the middle of the room, there was not another word for it. This wasn't his home and it showed. He was unsure what the etiquette was, awkward in this unfamiliar place as he took a step toward the TV, changed direction to go for the remote, and switched destination again like he was going to the couch.
Chase had mercy on him. “I love this show,” he said, guessing Jaden didn't know whether he should turn the TV off while eating or suggest a move to the dining room. “Penny’s my favorite.” Jaden’s shoulders noticeably lowered.
“You’re okay with eating on the couch, then?”
Chase always ate on the couch. He’d lived alone for a while now, and while he’d started out eating at his table, it just felt lonely. Who was he trying to impress? Now it was something he saved for the odd date. Emphasis on odd. He loved Serenity, but the gay singles scene left something to be desired. Like other gay men. “Yep.”
He wasn't prone to feeling off-balance around other people, whether he knew them or not. But something about Jaden made him shy. And Chase hadn’t been anything close to shy since… ever. He’d always been good with the spotlight. The class clown, the prom king, the quarterback. Chase lived for attention. Still did, in a more muted way. He taught classes at the gym and had no issue with people staring at him. Inwardly settling himself, he plowed through his newfound hesitancy and in typical fashion, he made himself at home, sinking into the soft cushions of the massive sectional couch. If he waited for Jaden to settle first, he’d be there all night. Chase grabbed the large burgundy throw from the armrest and draped it over his lap. He set the food beside him and patted the empty space. “Come on. Sit down. Where’s the horse?”
He'd fake not being uncomfortable till it became true. It was his mom’s favorite saying. “Fake it till you make it.”
Where Chase plopped himself down, all loose and careless limbs, Jaden gingerly sat down. Like the couch might explode if he didn't ease onto it. He folded his hands in his lap. It was a very stiff pose. “He’s passed out in the back. Magneto isn't used to having a yard to run in.”
Chase got tense just looking at him.
Shaking his head, Chase pulled out his “Welcome to Serenity” package, laying everything on the driftwood coffee table. Lily-Anne’s reading glasses were next to the bowl of sea shells in the center. Did her grandsons plan to leave the house as some kind of shrine? He averted his gaze, switching to Jaden. His knuckles were white. “We’re going to need plates and forks,” said Chase. “And something to drink. I should have picked up a six-pack, sorry.”
The expression of relief on Jaden’s face at being given something to do caused Chase’s heart to skip a beat. Was he doing the right thing or was he forcing his presence on Jaden? Well, if you walk out now, it’s going to look rude as all hell.
Jaden returned with provisions, they faced the TV, and they ate.
As far as awkward situations go, this was pretty far up on the list. Chase swore his skin was actually buzzing with his body’s need to do something, say something. His food was sitting like a rock in his stomach.
He lasted about seven minutes—his max acceptance period for silence—though an eternity was what it felt like. “So what do you do?”
Jaden was having trouble getting his macaroni to stay on his fork. He didn't look up as he answered, “I’m an accountant. Was an accountant.” His lips twisted. “I got fired. Cutbacks. My boss was supposed to retire, and I’d take his job. He decided not to.” He waved his hand, the plate on his lap nearly fell over. “But it’s fine. I’ve got feelers out, and I’ll have a new job in no time. It’s one of the benefits to having a practical degree.”
“You quoting someone there?” asked Chase.
This earned a smile from Jaden. It was small, barely there, but the corners of his lips were definitely angled up. “My mom.”
“She have a ‘practical’ degree?”
Jaden nodded at the TV. “She’s a biomedical scientist. It’s part of why I like this show. Reminds me of her, but funnier.”
It was Chase’s turn to smile. “My parents told me the same thing, so I went and got a basic business degree. Figured that covered my bases.” At eighteen, he’d resented the pressure from them to have a realistic career backup. He was young, invincible, with a bright future ahead of him and a career that would see him retiring with fame and fortune. He’d skipped his classes, keeping his grades at the bare minimum to stay on the football team. He didn’t need a backup.
Until he did.
Almost ten years later, and he was living his life using the degree he’d not wanted. Irony at its finest.
“What did you want to do before practicality set in?”
Jaden bit his lip, worrying the soft pink flesh. Chase was starting to figure out this was Jaden’s “I’m thinking, give me a minute” tell. He patiently waited, shoveling food into his mouth and keeping his gaze on the screen and not Jaden. Eventually, after the next episode had started, Jaden said, “I think I wanted to be Han Solo.”
Chase laughed, deep and from his belly. “We’re a pair. I wanted to be Indiana Jones.”
This got an honest smile out of Jaden, one showing teeth and his dimples. Chase’s heart skipped a beat. He stuffed his face so he didn't blurt out something inappropriate.
An easy silence fell between them, and they returned to focusing on the TV. Chase found himself listening for Jaden’s giggles, wanting to see if they found the same things funny. He kept glancing out the corner of his eyes too, sneaking looks at Jaden’s expression. It was relaxed, the furrow between his brow smoothed out, his jaw no longer tense like he was grinding his back teeth.
If Jaden made Chase nervous, Chase obviously made Jaden ten times more so. He wanted to fix that.
Jaden muted the commercials after a while, using the breaks to ask Chase questio
ns about his brothers. They were tentative, and he twisted his fingers together as he talked, gaze firmly fixed on the television for the most part.
“Do they have families?”
Chase leaned his knee against Jaden’s, aiming for comfort and ignoring the excited rush he got from such simple contact. “Just each other. They’re younger than you, too. Elliot’s thirty-one, and he’s the oldest of the three. The other two are late twenties.”
“I look older than thirty-one?”
It took Chase a minute to realize Jaden hadn’t told him how old he was, and he thought Chase was insulting him. He rushed to clarify. “Lily-Anne talked about you. She told me when you were born, I’m not just assuming you’re older. You don’t look a day over thirty.” Chase wasn't even lying. In this moment, with the tension bled from his shoulders and his face smooth, Jaden looked years younger than he had just an hour ago.
Jaden glanced at him from beneath lowered lashes. “Did she say anything else about me?”
Chase thought back, searching his mind. He remembered Lily-Anne saying Jaden had more of his father in him than his mom would have liked, but he didn't think Jaden would want to hear that. “She was proud of you, complained a lot that you didn’t have Facebook, though.” He grinned. “She wanted to be able to keep up with you and show her friends pictures.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” said Chase. He let Jaden mull the information over, watched a car commercial involving people dancing in the streets and an elephant. It was random.
The show resumed. Jaden turned the volume up.
“Do you think they’ll like me?” asked Jaden, voice low.
“Your brothers?”
“Half-brothers.”
Chase wrapped an arm around Jaden’s shoulders, ignoring the initial ramrod straightness of Jaden’s spine before he relaxed and slumped against Chase. “They’re still brothers. And yeah, I think they’ll love you.”
“All right.”
He fell asleep on Chase soon after, mouth open and body warm along Chase’s side. A little after midnight, Chase carefully extracted himself, draped a blanket over him, let Magneto in, and headed home.
Chapter 3
Daisy’s Diner was an establishment Jaden believed had been transported through a time capsule from the eighties to the present day. The colors were bright—blindingly so—and the pictures hanging on the walls had a unifying theme: The Dukes of Hazard. There were cars and there were girls in Daisy Dukes, and sometimes there were both. The booths were minimodels of classic cars, with tables placed in the center.
Southern living met Pulp Fiction, he thought.
It was tacky, and the music coming from the honest-to-god jukebox in the corner was something country. There was crooning, and someone was very upset about a woman, he was drinking beer, and there was a truck. There was a chance Jaden had walked onto the set of SNL, and this was an elaborate skit to make fun of Florida.
He lingered in the doorway, glancing at his phone to make sure this was the place Elliot told him to meet him at for breakfast.
It was.
The door bumped his back and Jaden hastily moved aside, apologizing to the woman coming in at the same time she said sorry. She gave him a long, searching look before she passed him, walked to a table in the far corner, and seated herself.
Unlike in New York, the people here stared. His skin itched under their gazes, crawling with discomfort at the attention. They caught his when he glanced around, searching for Elliot’s familiar face. They whispered to each other, and he couldn’t help but feel like it was about him. He was used to a fast-paced environment where no one cared about the people around them. These people were actually talking to one another, no iPhones in sight.
The feeling of not belonging was intense.
He didn't know what he hoped to accomplish here.
It was as he attempted to exit that Elliot walked in, and he was flanked by two other men. The one on the left had bright blue hair hanging loose around his face and a nose ring. He wore skinny jeans and a baggy black shirt with a distressed collar. His shirt was covered in animal hair. The man on the right was wearing athletic shorts, sneakers, and a tank shirt that said “I woke up like this.” He had dark, brownish-black hair. It was longer in the front and shorter at the back. Both men had the same navy blue eyes.
Was it too late to decide he couldn't do this? Jaden had spent thirty-five years as an only child, with no family outside of his mom and hers. He didn't need to change that.
Elliot and the blue-haired half-brother grinned when they saw him. The third remained stone-faced.
Yeah… definitely too late.
He thought his return smile might be a bit more of a grimace than anything else, but hey, he’d tried.
“Hi,” said Elliot, looking casual in his athletic gear. His Nikes were a neon blue. Jaden’s gaze couldn't help but be drawn to them. Elliot matched the diner for brightness. “You sleep all right? Did you find something to eat? I can’t remember what I left there. If not, I hope you found the takeout menus.”
Apparently Jaden wasn't the only nervous one. He wasn't sure he wanted to tell them about Chase coming by with dinner. It’d been a sweet gesture and, while at first it sent butterflies tumbling through Jaden’s stomach, it smoothed into something nice soon enough. A warm, pleasant feeling that radiated through his entire body. They’d spent hours talking and watching sitcoms until Jaden had apparently passed out.
Chase left Jaden with the leftover food and the beginning of a small, hopeless crush.
The blue-haired man gently shoved Elliot aside and held out his hand. “I’m Phoenix.” He jerked his head at the other guy. “And that’s Zane. It’s good to meet you.” There was no tension underlying his smile. Phoenix had a strong handshake and a cool palm. Jaden wished he’d been given a second to drag his own along his pants. Nerves were making his clammy.
“Nice to meet you, too,” he said, and it was a miracle his voice didn't crack.
Phoenix pointed at a red Cadillac table sitting empty. “How about we go sit down? I don’t know about you, but I need my morning coffee.”
Jaden trailed them to the table, fixating on Zane’s silence. Why hadn’t he said anything? Was he going to be the one who didn't like Jaden and viewed him as an interloper? Of course it was Zane he ended up seated next to. Their elbows brushed, and he accidentally kicked Zane’s ankle beneath the table. Cheeks heating, he opted to pretend it didn’t happen and stared at his menu.
He wasn't actually hungry. His stomach felt like lead, and the thought of food made the rock sitting in there turn over unpleasantly. Jaden’s emotions went right to his stomach. Once upon a time, he’d believed he had an ulcer. His doctor had run tests, and then recommended he see a shrink, telling Jaden he was in no danger of an ulcer, but an anxiety attack was right around the corner.
“Physically, you’re healthy as a horse,” he’d said.
Jaden had never understood that saying, but he got the message behind it loud and clear. Physically, Jaden was healthy. Mentally, he was a wreck.
He didn’t need a doctor to tell him that. Jaden was a high-strung type of guy. It was a fact of life.
“If you like waffles, I really recommend the cinnamon apple ones. But the stuffed French toast is also tasty. And Gloria makes the fluffiest pancakes in the world. So those are good, too.”
Phoenix elbowed Elliot, and then rolled his eyes in Jaden’s direction. “You’ll have to excuse him. He doesn't get out much and his social skills are deplorable.”
Beside Jaden, Zane snorted, ducking his head and hiding a smirk behind his fist as he fake-coughed.
Jaden didn't think Elliot meant to kick him, he was pretty sure he’d been aiming for Zane, but Elliot connected with Jaden’s shin. Hard.
He sucked in a breath.
Elliot blushed, tan skin quickly growing rosy. “Oh fuck,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
Zane out-and-out started laughing, shoulders shaking. Phoenix b
it his lips, cheeks twitching with a suppressed laugh.
The waitress chose then to come by, not looking at all surprised by them. She was a tall, curvy redhead, and her white shirt was tucked into a pair of Daisy Dukes, showing off long, pale legs. Her right eyebrow was arched questioningly at Zane. “What’s so funny?” she asked. “I could use a pick-me-up this early.”
Zane grinned for the first time, choking back his giggles. “I’ll pick you up,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.
She reached over and whacked him in the back of the head with her notepad. “Not in a million years.” Her green gaze shifted to Jaden, assessing. “And who do we have here? You’re not a familiar face.”
“This is Jaden. Our brother,” said Phoenix. It shocked Jaden, rendering him speechless. Phoenix admitted their relationship so easily, like it wasn’t at all weird for a relative—a sibling, no less—to pop out of the woodwork at the drop of a hat. He didn't even know Jaden, and yet, he claimed him.
“Another Bannister? Do they grow you on trees?” She gave Jaden the once-over. He shifted, gaze darting away from hers. Jaden didn't swing that way, but this wasn't New York. It was a small town in Florida. He wasn't about to blurt his preferences out. “What can I get you to drink?” she asked him.
Out of here? He cleared his throat. “Coffee, please.”
“Sure thing.” She lingered for a second before moving on to take the others’ drink orders. “I’ll be back in a sec.” There was a deliberate swish to her hips as she walked away.
Focus bounced back to him. Jaden was tempted to call the waitress back. Zane had returned to his blank expression.
Elliot rubbed his jawline, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry for the twenty questions. But really, was the house okay?”
It was eerie looking into eyes that matched his. Jaden’s mom had muddy brown eyes, and Jaden had known the vibrant blue came from his father, but this drove the truth home. There was a whole side of himself that Jaden didn't know. “I slept all right.” He didn't tell Elliot he’d slept on the couch rather than on one of the guest beds. It hadn’t been intentional. But he didn't think he’d switch to a bed tonight either. It felt a little too personal to him, which probably only made sense in his maze of a mind. There was just something weird about making himself at home in his dead grandma’s house. It wasn't his home.
