“With you?”
Dylan didn’t bother to say that he didn’t see anyone else in the room. He simply studied Nate carefully, then moved around the bar and over to the table.
“Look, Nate,” he began as he took a seat. “I owe you an apology. I haven’t—”
“Why do you think everything’s always about you?” Nate bellowed, jumping to his feet.
Dylan was up in an instant, his hands on Nate’s shoulders. His son was shaking, clearly angry, but at what, Dylan wasn’t quite sure. He’d thought Nate had been angry with him, but now he had his doubts.
“What’s it about?” he asked softly.
“It doesn’t matter,” Nate snapped. “It never fucking matters.”
Dylan gently squeezed Nate’s shoulder. “It always matters. When it comes to you, it does, Nate.”
His son’s dark eyes met his, and Dylan held his breath, hoping his son would open up to him.
The next words that came out of his mouth weren’t quite what Dylan expected.
“I’m gay, Dad.”
Well, it was a start at opening up.
“Okay.”
Nate frowned, shrugging Dylan’s hand away. “Okay? That’s all you have to say about it?”
Dylan’s own anger came bubbling up. “What do you want me to say, Nate? Did you have this conversation planned out? Did you write a script that I should know about? You’re gay. Fine. Am I supposed to react badly? What do you want from me?”
Nate’s eyes widened momentarily. “You’re not gonna tell me that I’m not gay? That I must be confused?”
“Why would I say that?” Dylan didn’t understand what the hell was going on. “Do you think you’re confused?”
“No.”
“Well, then why would I think you’re confused?”
“Because your son is gay,” Nate countered hotly.
“So fucking what?” Dylan stared at his son. “Some of my best friends are gay. Does that mean they’re confused?”
That seemed to take the wind right out of Nate’s sails. He stood there, staring back at Dylan.
When his son’s face fell, Dylan finally put all the pieces of the puzzle together. Everything he’d witnessed over the past couple of years, the way Nate interacted with Jake, the way the two men acted toward one another.
This wasn’t about Dylan at all. Sure, he probably hadn’t helped the situation by becoming a raging alcoholic and ignoring his children altogether, but the weight on Nate’s shoulders wasn’t placed there by Dylan. He wasn’t sure that was a good thing or a bad thing. As a father, he wanted to fix his kid’s problems, but this was something he couldn’t fix.
“Is this about Jake?” he asked, making sure there was no judgement in his tone.
Nate dropped back into the chair. “He doesn’t want to see me anymore.”
Oh, hell.
His son was in love.
“Did he say why?”
Nate seemed surprised by the question. “He said we’re too young.”
Well, Dylan could hardly argue with that, but he knew that wasn’t what Nate would want to hear. “Have you been … dating him for a while?”
“It hasn’t been official. More like friends.”
“But you wanted more?”
Nate stared at the wooden tabletop. “Yeah.”
“And what did Jake say when you brought it up?”
Nate rolled his eyes. “I didn’t bring it up. I’ve been waiting for him to … accept it.”
Shit.
Dylan had no idea what to say to make this better for Nate. Young love was hard, and that was the case whether you were gay or straight. The heart wanted what it wanted, and everyone knew it didn’t always work out.
“Talk to me, Nate.”
“I don’t want to talk,” Nate growled, his anger returning. “I’m so fucking tired of talking. I just want…”
Ah, hell.
The second the tears began to fall from Nate’s eyes, Dylan’s heart constricted. He threw his arms around his son and held him, offering comfort, knowing it wouldn’t help.
Dylan hated that he couldn’t fix this for his son. He didn’t even know how to try.
But he could be there for him the way a father should.
Yes, Dylan had made a lot of mistakes over the years, but the one thing he’d never stopped doing was loving his kids, wanting what was best for them.
So, that was exactly what he did. He kept his arms wrapped tightly around Nate and he hugged him.
Didn’t matter that it was as much for him as it was for his son.
chapter TWENTY-THREE
Tuesday, January 24
WHEN THE TEMP AGENCY CALLED her late yesterday afternoon, Sarah had reluctantly accepted a one-day assignment to fill in as a receptionist. Apparently, the company’s previous one had bailed on them and they had a lag until the new one started. Figuring it would be simple and easy, she’d opted to do it. More so because she needed something to do rather than sit around thinking while trying to come up with nonexistent things to clean around the house.
The day had gone exactly as she’d expected. Nothing overly dramatic. No pain-in-the-ass boss who drilled her endlessly about stupid shit. No vindictive office assistant who was jealous. In fact, it had been relatively boring.
And once again, after eight hours at the office, Sarah found she was pacing her living room floor.
She glanced at her cell phone, trying to pretend it wasn’t the elephant in the room. She hadn’t heard from Dylan since he dropped her off on Sunday. Rather than call him herself, she’d been hoping he would make the first move.
That was two full days ago.
It wasn’t that she thought he needed to be the first one to reach out. More like she was afraid of appearing too needy. She could admit to having abandonment issues, and that was always the first thing she jumped to. But with Dylan, she knew she couldn’t assume the worst. It wasn’t fair to him. They’d had a wonderful trip, and she longed to see him again, but Sarah knew she needed to slow things down. For her own sake if nothing else.
But then it dawned on her. Why did he have to be the one pursuing her? Shouldn’t she make the effort? What if he was waiting for her to call him? It only seemed fair, right?
“Uggh.” Sarah thrust her hand through her hair.
Reaching for her phone, she pulled up Dylan’s contact information. Just as she was going to hit the call button, her phone rang. The vibration startled her, and she dropped the phone, scrambling to catch it before it died a painful death on the hardwood.
She managed to grab it just in time.
“Hello?” Hmm. She sounded like she’d just run a mile. And not in a sexy, breathless kind of way, either.
“Sarah? Are you okay?”
Sitting in the middle of the living room, Sarah laughed into the phone. “I’m fine. Sorry. I almost dropped the phone. I was just about to call you.”
“You were?” Dylan inquired, his voice dropping an octave or two.
“Yeah.”
“Because you wanted to see me?”
Sarah lay back on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. “Actually, yes.”
Smokey and Blue were instantly at her side, crawling over and around her, whipping her in the face with their tails.
“Mmm.”
God, she missed him. She missed seeing him, hearing his voice.
“How’re things?” he inquired.
“Good. Busy. Sort of. I went to work today. One-day deal. It was boring.”
“Doing what?”
“Answering phones.”
“Sounds … interesting.”
Sarah chuckled. “No, it sounds as boring as it was.”
Dylan’s sexy laugh echoed in her ear. “What else is going on?”
Sarah thought back to her conversation with Jake. “I talked to my nephew. He sort of grilled me when I got back on Sunday.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone, and Sarah pulled it back to see if the
call had disconnected.
It hadn’t.
“Dylan?”
“Yeah.” He sighed. “Did Jake happen to mention Nate?”
Well, crap. “He … did. Yes.”
“Nate’s devastated.”
“Oh, no.” Sarah sat up. “I’m so sorry. If it makes a difference, I don’t think Jake’s doing all that hot, either.”
“So, you know?”
“That he’s gay? Yeah. I know. But I’ve known that since he was fifteen when he told me.”
“Oh.”
“You didn’t know?”
“Not officially, no,” Dylan said softly. “I had my suspicions, but I was leaving it to Nate to talk to me about it.”
“Trust me, I get it.” And she really did. Had Jake not come to her, Sarah wasn’t sure she would’ve been able to address it with him.
“Maybe I should have gone to him. Made him talk about it.”
Sarah chuckled softly. “You do know that wouldn’t have changed what they’re going through now, right?”
“Maybe.”
“No maybes about it,” she countered, keeping her voice low. “Whether it’s a crush or true love, it would’ve happened anyway. They’ll figure it out. They’re young. They’re resilient.”
Dylan was quiet again, and when he finally spoke, his voice wasn’t nearly as strained. “So, what’re you doing tomorrow?”
“Nothing,” she admitted. “That I know of.”
“You want to have lunch with Trent Ramsey?”
Sarah bolted upright, getting to her feet. “Trent Ramsey? The Trent Ramsey? Please don’t be messing with me right now.”
Dylan chuckled. “I’m very serious. He wants to meet, see what I thought about Devil’s Playground. Figured maybe you could give him your insight as well.”
Sarah’s cheeks heated instantly as she thought about her experience at the club.
“Sarah?”
“Yeah. Yes.” She cleared her throat. “Yes, I’d love to have lunch with you and…” Did she call him Trent? Or Mr. Ramsey?
“Good. I’ll pick you up at ten thirty tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
“Sarah?”
“Hmm?”
“I miss you.”
Her heart turned over in her chest. “I miss you, too.”
And just like that, the call was over and Sarah felt her heart growing to ten times its normal size. She hated getting her hopes up, but it seemed to be a moot point. Every time she thought about Dylan, she felt giddy. It seemed as though things were moving in the right direction. Part of her insisted on taking it one day at a time, but the other part wanted to fast-track this. More importantly, she wanted to know how things were going to play out.
Everything was falling into place. Or it seemed to be.
And on top of that, she was going to meet Trent freaking Ramsey.
Oh, crap. What in the world was she going to wear?
How did she even talk to a celebrity of that caliber? Was she supposed to play it cool? Act like she had lunch with famous people every day?
There was no way this was going to end well.
INVITING SARAH TO LUNCH SEEMED like the most natural thing in the world to do. Dylan hadn’t lied when he told her that he wanted her to share her experience with Trent. However, he could’ve easily told the man himself.
The truth was, Dylan wanted to see her. Hell, he would’ve gone to her house tonight if it hadn’t been for the fact that he was meeting Alex and Ashleigh for dinner. He figured he owed his brother-in-law a heads-up before he finalized things with Trent. The last thing he wanted Alex to think was that Dylan was abandoning him. Then again, he’d done that long ago.
“Hey.” Ashleigh greeted him with a smile when she appeared at the front door.
After a quick hug, Dylan stepped inside, shrugged out of his coat, and tossed it over the chair. “Where’s Riley?”
“She’s over at Sierra’s for a couple of hours. She’s a total terror these days. We don’t get a moment’s peace. Never mind trying to have dinner.”
Dylan chuckled. “She takes after her mom, huh?”
Ashleigh glared at him, grinning. “I was never that bad.”
“I’m sure Pops would disagree.”
“Whatever. Come in the kitchen. I’ve got to pull the pork roast out of the oven.”
“Where’s Alex?”
“He’s taking a quick shower.” Ashleigh pulled on a pair of oven mitts. “How was the trip to Vegas?”
Dylan tried to hide his surprise. He wasn’t sure how Ashleigh found out, but apparently she was up to speed on what he’d been up to. “It was good.”
“And Sarah? Things good with her, too?”
Dylan couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his mouth. “She’s great.”
After setting the pan on the stove, Ashleigh turned to look at him. He could see his sister’s brain working, but he didn’t have the slightest idea what was running through her head.
“Have you talked to her?”
“Define talk,” he urged. Of course he had talked to her, but he figured Ashleigh was referring to something specific.
“About Meghan?”
Dylan looked away instantly. No, he hadn’t. Yet.
“Both of you have suffered tremendous loss, Dylan. If you want this to work out…”
“I know,” he stated, still not looking at her. “Right now, we’re taking things slow.”
Leaning back against the counter, he crossed his arms over his chest and forced his eyes to Ashleigh’s face. He should’ve expected this from his sister. She cared about him, he got that. Didn’t mean he wanted to talk about it.
“I’m happy for you, Dylan. And for Sarah.”
He frowned, confused.
“I haven’t seen you this happy in a very long time,” she said, tossing the oven mitts onto the counter. “I’m not sure if it’s her or something else…”
“It’s her,” he acknowledged. No reason not to admit it.
Ashleigh grinned. “I thought so. She’s sweet. I like her.”
Dylan hadn’t realized that Ashleigh knew Sarah all that well. They’d been introduced once or twice at various events, but the way his sister spoke of her said she knew Sarah better than a mere acquaintance. “Do you talk to her often?”
Ashleigh’s expression went blank. He recalled her doing something similar the last time Sarah had come up in conversation.
“How well do you know her?” he inquired.
“Not well,” she answered, shaking her head. “I…”
Dylan waited.
Ashleigh sighed. “I called her a couple of times. A few years ago. Back … you know. Well, I called to ask her for some help. With you.”
“Help?”
“Yeah. She’s resourceful. Her husband suffered from bipolar disorder, and she has experience with … depression.”
He cocked an eyebrow.
“I wanted her to help me pull you out of your depression,” Ashleigh blurted. “But don’t worry, she turned me down.”
That didn’t sound like Sarah.
“I figured it had something to do with what happened between the two of you a few years ago.”
Okay, so that grabbed his attention. How the hell would Ashleigh know…?
“She never actually admitted anything to me, but I could tell by how standoffish she became that something happened. When I first asked her to help, she was willing. We talked at length and she gave me all sorts of suggestions. We had lunch a couple of times. But then one day she sort of shut down on me. After she gave me some information about grief counselors and group therapy, I stopped calling her because I could tell that…”
Ashleigh stared back at him, but she didn’t continue.
When the silence became too much, Dylan took a deep breath. “I fucked up with her,” he admitted.
“I figured as much.” Ashleigh’s smile was sympathetic. “I’m just happy she’s back in your life now. She’s good for you. She knows a
lot about…”
Dylan did not like the sound of that. “I don’t need her to fix me now, Ash.”
His sister’s eyebrows lowered. “I didn’t say you did.”
“Is that what you think she’s doing?” Dylan hadn’t considered the fact that Sarah might be placating him in order to help keep him sober.
“No, not at all.” Ashleigh glanced down at the counter. “Yes, I tried to call her after I saw you talking to her at the CISS party, but I didn’t leave a message. I just needed her to know that you’re recovering.”
Anger penetrated deep within him at the thought of Ashleigh interfering. Was she telling him the complete truth? Or had she actually talked to Sarah?
“What’s goin’ on in here?”
Dylan turned to see Alex standing in the doorway. He was studying them both intently, probably curious as to why their voices were raised. Dylan didn’t want to go into details, but he needed to mull over this information for a little while. The fact that Ashleigh had sought out Sarah to help him through his … problems...
Was that what Sarah was doing now? Did she pity him? Was he some fucking charity case for her?
The idea did not sit well with him.
“Let’s eat,” Ashleigh stated, drawing him out of his thoughts.
Dylan forced Sarah from his mind, choosing to focus on the here and now.
A few minutes later, after the food was dished up and the three of them were sitting at the dining room table, Dylan took the opportunity to talk to Alex. He explained about his conversation with Trent, about the new club, about his desire to take the position.
“So what’s stopping you?” Alex asked, his fork hanging over his plate.
Dylan reached for his tea glass, looking Alex directly in the eye. “You.”
“Me? What the fuck?”
“I owe you everything,” Dylan said, keeping his voice low. “I let you down in a big way. I damn sure don’t deserve to move on to something else if you don’t approve.”
Alex looked sincerely appalled by the statement. But Dylan continued. “You’ve stood by me, but I haven’t done the same in return.”
“Bullshit,” Alex barked. “You don’t owe me shit. The fact that CISS is having trouble is not your fault.”
“Sure it is.”
“No. It’s not!” Alex got to his feet. “You don’t get to take this all on yourself.”
Distraction (Club Destiny Book 8) Page 23
