by Brandon Witt
Shit.
It would have hurt if Steven ended up backing away before. Now? Now, it might just break him.
Vahin and the older drag queen were talking as he and Steven returned to the bar. As they drew close, the drag queen’s gaze fell on Ryan. She let out a loud screech, straightened, and stomped toward Ryan with arms flung wide.
Beside him, Steven let out a whimper.
Before Ryan fully knew what was going on, strong arms wrapped around him and lifted him off the ground. “Oh, baby cakes, it is good to meet you!”
Another twirl and he was placed unceremoniously back on the floor. The drag queen was close enough that Ryan could see the layers of makeup caked on her face and glop of mascara in the corner of her eye. She smacked his cheek.
“I’m ManDonna.” She cast a glare toward Steven. “Seems I have to introduce myself since your man here is a scrub.” She pinched the cheek she’d just smacked. Ryan was pretty sure he was going to have a bruise. “You are gorgeous, hunty. No wonder you’ve got our Steven all tore up. Hmm-hmm. I’d let you tear me up, I promise. If he don’t treat you right, you just come to Momma, and I’ll teach you how to do it right.”
Another whimper rose from Steven.
Ryan tried to figure out what to say. He wasn’t sure there was actually a protocol to follow in this kind of situation. “Uhm, thank you.”
ManDonna chuckled. “Thank you, he says. Such a polite boy.” She cast a heated glance at Steven. “Tell you what, Steven, when you rob the cradle, you really rob it good. This little baby is delicious.”
Steven finally seemed to find his voice. “I’m going to kill you.”
That earned him a smack to his cheek, though there seemed to be a little more force than Ryan had earned. “You try, baby. You try.”
ManDonna focused back on Ryan. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I need to go help Ariel get into her tail. We’ve got a Christmas mermaid song coming up. You won’t want to leave before that. Once you’ve seen Ariel Merman in her shells, you’ll consider giving up the cock.”
Again, Ryan had absolutely no idea what to say. Though apparently he wasn’t expected to say anything.
ManDonna leaned in, gave air kisses to both sides of his face, and whispered in his ear, her voice sounding like a man instead of the drag queen. “It really is nice to meet you, Ryan. Steven’s a good man. You’re lucky to have his attention.” She pulled back and glared at Steven. “And you. You ever threaten to kill me again, and I will bring all the fires of hell upon you. And you know I ain’t playing.” She smacked his cheek again, gave Ryan a wink, and walked away, her high heels clacking over the music.
Steven looked over at him, his cheek red above his beard. “I’m so sorry about that.”
Ryan lifted his hand and gently touched Steven’s face—his cheek was hot—then let his fingers caress his beard. “She really slapped you, didn’t she?”
He lifted his hand as if to touch his cheek but placed his hand over Ryan’s instead. “Just part of the risk of loving ManDonna. Though, those did hurt more than normal.” He motioned toward the bar, and Ryan followed.
“Man, ManDonna gave it to you tonight. I heard that smack from over here.”
Steven glared at Vahin. “I take it I have you to thank for announcing who Ryan was to her? You and your gossipy ways?”
Vahin just grinned. “Careful how you speak to me, boss man. You know ManDonna likes me more. I can have her balance out your other cheek.”
Steven snorted. “You’re a bitch.”
“True.”
Steven cast an apologetic grimace toward Ryan and then addressed Vahin once more. “Can you get Ryan another wine while I finish up—”
“Nope.” Vahin shook his head and crossed his arms, obviously making a show of flexing his biceps.
“Excuse me?”
“Nope.” Vahin shook his head again, and though there was a playful smirk on his face, his tone was serious. “No more drinks for Ryan, unless you’re joining him. You’re not going off to work right now.”
“I have to—”
“No, you don’t. We’ve got it under control. Just like always. You either join Ryan at the bar, and I’ll give you as many drinks as you want, or you take him home and fuck each other’s brains out.”
“Vahin!” Steven actually sounded angry. Enough that Vahin seemed a little taken aback.
“Sorry. I’ll go get you both a drink.” He started to walk away, but then his expression changed, and he looked directly at Ryan. “And you don’t forget what I said. This little bitch is stubborn, but he’s worth it.” Then he was gone.
When Steven looked over at Ryan, any anger he’d experienced was gone, and only embarrassment was left. “I’m so sorry. Again. I love these people, but I kinda fucking hate them right now.”
They were a lot to take in; Ryan couldn’t argue with that. He was grateful. It seemed people in Steven’s life were rooting for the two of them. It was strange, though kinda great. “I don’t wanna interrupt your night. As much as I love this place, strange as it is, I’d really like to get out of here with you. We won’t have another chance for several days.” He stopped himself before he said what he really felt, then decided to say it anyway. “I’ve missed you.”
Steven flinched, not in disgust or anything, just surprise.
At least Ryan hoped.
There seemed to be a battle going on in Steven’s mind, judging from the expressions shifting over his face, the spell Mary’s had cast over him having apparently broken. Finally, with a look toward the bar and then at the stage, he gave a slow nod. “Okay. Let’s go. I’ve… a….” A small smile broke as his gray-blue eyes met Ryan’s. “I’ve missed you too, which is weird.”
Within a few minutes, they were behind Mary’s, standing bundled up by Steven’s truck.
Steven seemed nervous again. Like the moment he walked out Mary’s door, all the doubts he’d had came rushing back. “Where would you like to go? D Bar is pretty close. They have really amazing desserts.”
Ryan almost agreed. Sitting with Steven and chatting over cake or some other sugar high sounded wonderful. But it wasn’t what he really wanted. Wasn’t even what he thought they needed. Both Vahin and ManDonna seemed pushy, almost to an offensive level. But they’d also seemed certain and maybe knew something about how Steven worked that Ryan didn’t quite understand yet.
He decided to risk it and take their lead.
Ryan leaned down and kissed Steven.
Steven responded instantly. Kissing him back. His hands lifting to Ryan’s back and pulling him closer. Kissed him until his nerves seemed to fall away.
When the kiss finally broke, Ryan held Steven’s gaze. “I want you to take me to your place, or we can go to mine, I don’t care which.”
Steven’s eyes widened, his panic having returned, though Ryan was certain he saw desire there as well. “We agreed to wait. To make sure.”
Ryan refused to let him look away. “You agreed, and we did wait. On our last date. The last two dates. And maybe neither of us can completely explain it, but I’m certain. It seems that Vahin and ManDonna are certain too. And….” He stroked Steven’s beard, which seemed to be his Achilles’ heel, and Ryan didn’t even feel guilty for playing that card. “And when you’re not freaking yourself out, you’re certain of it too.”
Steven didn’t answer but didn’t glance away either.
Ryan decided to push. “You are, aren’t you? Somewhere in there, you’re certain. I can feel it.”
Steven studied him long enough that Ryan began to doubt the wisdom of pushing so hard, but then Steven nodded, his voice barely more than a breath as he spoke. “Yeah. I’m certain.”
Ryan’s heart soared, but he managed to keep his tone calm. “Then take me home.”
CHAPTER NINE
Steven Conley
Riley Christopher drooled onto his Wild Kratts pillow as he slept on the burnt orange sofa. His lashes were long and dark. Just like Topher’s had been
at that age. How Topher’s lashes still were.
The hours Steven had held Topher when he was a baby played through his mind, the countless times they’d had uncle and nephew playdates. To be watching Topher’s son sleeping was surreal, like Steven was transported back more than two decades. Somewhere in this alternate reality a little Ryan probably napped as well.
“Okay, you need to talk to me.” Pat pushed a mug of coffee toward him and sat facing him across the well-worn dining-room table. “It was weird enough you showing up unannounced in the middle of the day, but you’re staring at Riley Christopher like you’re going to start crying or possibly throw up.”
Steven didn’t look away from his great-nephew. “He looks so much like his dad. I mean that could be Topher at that age.” Finally he tore his gaze away and looked at Pat.
She studied him, worry etched in her face. “Are you dying?”
Steven let out a bark of a laugh and glanced over at Riley Christopher. He hadn’t even flinched. “Good God, Pattycakes. Why the hell would you ask that?”
“You’ve barely touched your coffee.” She gestured to his mug. “And you seem maudlin. You’re never maudlin. Cancer tends to make people maudlin.”
Another laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”
“So, no to the dying?”
“No, sis. No to the dying.”
“Good.” She nodded, took a sip of her coffee, then leveled a glare at him. “Then what the fuck is wrong?”
Steven couldn’t hold back a smile. “You’re the only grandma I know who curses around their grandkids.”
“I do not. He’s sleeping. I also don’t play Pearl Jam when he’s awake either. But I’ll happily put some on now while you tell me what the fuck is going on.” She gave him a smug smile. “But you might want to get on with it. You’ve been staring at him for a creepily long time. His naps don’t last all day, you know.”
Creepily. Interesting word choice.
Somehow, he’d nearly convinced himself that Pat would never need to know. That he’d never have to discuss any part of it with her. That he wouldn’t see judgment or disappointment in her eyes. But Ryan had been right. Steven was certain. And the past two weeks, though their times together had been limited—it seemed the holidays were a bit of a flurry for a party planner—had confirmed that it was more than momentary lust building between them. He still couldn’t completely explain it. He could list a hundred things he liked and admired about Ryan Fuller, but none of them captured the why of it all. The rightness. If they did, maybe he wouldn’t have dreaded his conversation so badly. If he didn’t understand it, how could he expect his sister to?
Pat let out one of her long, motherly sighs and tapped the table. “If you’re going to stew in silence all day, I have some scheduling I need to look over for the hospital.” She made to stand up. “You just let me know when your brain starts—”
“I’m dating Ryan Fuller.” And there it was. Blurted between them like he’d just dumped his cup of coffee on the tablecloth.
She remained frozen in her hunched position. For a long time.
“Pat? Did you hear me?” Well, that was a stupid question. But it seemed to break past her shock.
She plopped back down onto her chair and glanced over at Riley Christopher, then back at Steven. “Well, that explains the weird staring at the napping child.”
He couldn’t tell if she was angry or disbelieving. Either way, she didn’t sound happy.
“Pat, please. I need—”
She held up a finger, silencing him. Then she stood and walked away. She turned around, came back for her mug, and walked away again.
Steven watched her disappear into the kitchen.
Shit. It was worse than he’d feared. Pat never was at a loss for words.
There was banging of doors and then the clank of glass.
Pat returned, her mug of coffee in one hand, a bottle in the other. She placed it between them with a thud as she sat back down. “I think we’re gonna need bourbon.”
He glanced over at Riley Christopher. “I don’t think—”
She cut him off. “I don’t think you get to pretend you know how to think at this moment. And you for sure don’t get to worry about Riley Christopher. I’m not getting sloshed. I’m just going to make it where we can have this conversation and I not kill the oldest male relative Riley Christopher has on the Conley side of his family.” She pointed to the bottle. “Now, fucking pour it in your coffee. I am not drinking alone in the middle of the day.”
He did as instructed, took a sip, and waited for whatever hell was about to be released.
Pat took five large sips of her drink before she finally spoke. “Dating or fucking?”
Shit. “Uhm. Both?”
She cocked an eyebrow, disdain dripping from her. “You’re not sure?”
“Well, we’re dating. And we’re having sex. So….” God, this is horrid. Horrid!
Pat took another drink and appeared to hold it in her mouth for a long time before swallowing. “How long has this been going on?”
He hadn’t thought of that. That she’d even consider…. “Pat. Not that long. Maybe a month or so. Never back when he was younger. I didn’t—”
True revulsion crossed her face. “I didn’t mean that. If I thought that was a possibility, the bourbon bottle would be smashed into your forehead, not pouring you a drink.”
Despite her anger, her words offered some comfort. At least she didn’t have such a low opinion of him as that.
“When did this happen?”
He didn’t want to answer. Not at all. But it was better than the alternative. “The first time was the night of Dad’s wake.”
“Oh my God.” She shuddered. “Seriously? Your dad dies, and you see your nephew’s best friend and think he looks like a good pastime for your grief.”
A shot of anger flitted through him. “Number one, I was not grieving for that bastard. And two, I had no idea Ryan was Topher’s best friend. I didn’t have a clue who he was or how old he was until the morning after Dad’s funeral. And that was only because he told me.”
She stared at him, her expression shifting so fast Steven couldn’t even begin to predict which emotion would win. Finally, Pat laughed. It wasn’t filled with humor, but it didn’t exactly sound murderous either. “You know, if it were anyone else, I’d say they were full of shit. But not you. You really had no idea who he was, did you?”
Steven shook his head.
Another laugh. “Steven Conley. You moron. Do you know how many times you were with that kid as he was growing up?”
Steven shrugged. “A few.”
“Much more than a few.” She rubbed her temples. “What the hell is wrong with you? You can be so self-absorbed at times. So much like a man.”
“I am a man.”
She glared at him through the gaps in her fingers.
“I love him, Pat.” Steven flinched. He hadn’t even said those words to Ryan yet. “I… think I love him.”
Pat lowered her hand. “Do you? Or is it some midlife crisis that you’re going through? If it is, believe me, I get it. Dad’s death has done a number on—”
“This is not about Dad.” More anger. He glanced at Riley Christopher and lowered his voice. “And Ryan is not a midlife crisis. Not at all. Mary’s was, but not him.”
The anger left Pat’s face, replaced by confusion. “What?”
Shit. “Nothing.”
She shook her head. “Oh no. You don’t get to play the nothing card right now. You came here to talk, and boy, have you talked. But you’re not clamming up now. What do you mean Mary’s was the midlife crisis? You love that place. I’ve never seen you happier than when you’re there.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” The anger gave way to something darker. And sadder. “I gave up everything for Mary’s. Left a real job, a real career. For what?”
She just stared at him.
He smacked the table, not worrying about the noise. “For what, Pat?”
She flinched and leaned back, distancing herself. “So that you could live a life you wanted. Not just doing what you were expected to do.”
Steven snorted. “Yeah. A life I wanted. Some queer, weird place. So that I’d never have to man up.”
“Never have to man….” Pat’s words trailed off, her eyes narrowed, and she leaned forward once more. “Oh, baby.”
It was Steven’s turn to flinch. “What?”
She reached across the table and placed her hand over Steven’s. He nearly pulled his away. “What did Dad say to you in there before he died?”
His eyes burned instantly. He didn’t answer.
Pat squeezed his hand. “I think you need to go see Dad.”
He looked up at her. She’d lost her mind.
She smiled tenderly. “I’m serious. Go to his grave. Maybe take him flowers. You know he hated flowers. And tell him to fuck off.”
The laugh that burst from him was as sharp as his fist on the table. Across the room Riley Christopher shifted in his sleep.
Steven lowered his volume once again. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
Pat shrugged. “I loved Dad. He was better to me than he was you. He was actually a father to me a lot of the time, but I hated how he was to you.”
“I know that.”
“I know you do.” She gripped his hand tighter. “Steven Riley Conley, you are a thousand times more of a man than our father was. A better man, a stronger man.”
The burning in his eyes extinguished into rivers down his cheeks. Pat’s form blurred as he looked at her.
“I’m serious, Steven. You’re good and kind. You are brave. And Mary’s proves it. Maybe you want to be there for the rest of your life, and maybe you don’t, but it doesn’t matter. Right now, it makes you happy. And it makes a lot of other people very, very happy. I don’t know where a lot of those guys would be without Hamburger Mary’s, without you, in their lives. You make this world such a better place.”
She smiled at him. At least it looked that way through his tears. After a second, she stood, came around the table, and wrapped her arms around his head like she had when he was a child and their mother passed.
