Matt and Johnny both have all of their attention focused on me, but the way they’re leaning together makes them look… well, together. Especially when I notice that Matt’s let his hand slide down off Johnny’s shoulder and is resting it around his waist now, thumb hooked through Johnny’s belt loop and fingers teasing at the hem of Johnny’s shirt.
Does he know he’s doing that?
Does he know how sexy it looks?
Oh my God… does he have feelings for Johnny, too?
If he does, there’s no way Johnny knows. And heck, based on Matt’s knee-jerk reaction the first time he told me about his father, maybe he doesn’t even know it about himself. Hasn’t been able to admit it to himself, I mean.
Or maybe I’m just seeing things.
Letting my fantasies color my vision.
Imagining that—
“What are you talking about, Eden?” Matt asks me sharply, straightening up and pinning me with a hard stare that snaps my attention into focus.
“You’re not… what? Not gonna make it to your birthday?” Johnny presses, his eyebrows bunching together as he frowns at me. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It’s… it’s nothing,” I say, which is about as opposite of the truth as it’s possible to get.
It’s everything.
It’s shaped my whole life.
“That’s not nothing,” Matt says, crossing the room in two strides and grabbing me by the arms. “Why would you say something like that?”
“Seriously, Eden,” Johnny says, suddenly right next to me, too. His big hand wraps around the back of my neck exactly like it does when he kisses me, fingers tangling in my hair, and he looks down at me like he’s not planning on letting me off the hook, either. “That’s not funny. What did you mean?”
“I…”
I can’t say it. No matter how true it feels in my heart, I know it sounds crazy.
“You said your mom died when she was twenty-five, yeah?” Matt suddenly asks, his dark eyes softening as he stares down at me. “Along with your dad?”
I nod. “She was twenty-four,” I correct him. “She never made it to twenty-five. And neither… neither did her mother.”
“No shit?” Johnny asks, eyebrows going up even though he’s looking at me with sympathy, too. “That must’ve been rough on your mom, to lose her so young and then…”
He doesn’t finish it.
“My grandmother died from a fall down the stairs,” I tell them, although I’m not sure why. “And her mother died in a fire, can you imagine? Both of them when they were twenty-four years old.”
Matt’s frowning, and Johnny cocks his head to the side like I’ve noticed he always does when he’s trying to make sense of things.
“I had to do a class project when I was sixteen,” I say, the words starting to spill out as if all these years of holding them inside have built up until they have to. “It was a genealogy thing. A family tree. And it was really hard to track down the information but… but once I did, I had to keep going back further. Not for school, but for me. I wanted to find someone who lived.”
“Your great-grandma?” Johnny asks, his warm tone wrapping around me like a blanket.
I lean against him, held up by Matt’s hands still on my arms, and shake my head. “No. My great-grandma drowned, and her mother died of influenza. Before that? An accident with a horse. Another fire. Tuberculosis. A drowning at sea. I… I went back generations, until I couldn’t anymore.”
“All those… those ancestors died young?” Matt asks me, because he still doesn’t get it.
“Yes,” I say, wiping at my cheeks even though I’m not sure when I started crying. “But not just young. None of them saw their twenty-fifth birthdays, and none of them died younger than I am now. They all died when they were twenty-four. Not earlier. Not later. It’s… it’s my fate. The fate of all the women in my family.”
Johnny’s shaking his head, that big arm all the way around my waist, and Matt’s eyes are boring into me like he’s trying to see right through to my soul.
“No,” he says firmly. “You mentioned an aunt—”
“She’s my father’s sister. But all the women on my mother’s side?”
“That shit isn’t like… I mean, none of that was hereditary genetic type stuff, you know?” Johnny says before I can go on. “Eden, come on now. That really sucks, and I’m not saying it isn’t weird as hell that it all happened to them at the same age, but sometimes coincidences just happen, you know? But we’re not talking like cancer or anything, though, so there’s no reason for you to—”
The doorbell cuts him off, and we all jump.
“Oh my God,” I say, shaking. “I’m… I’m so sorry. I need to go fix my face.”
I’m a mess, and I can tell they want to stop me from rushing out of the room, but tonight isn’t about me. I can’t blame the boys for not believing me; I’m also not willing to let my fate take away from what I hope will turn out to be the start of a true reconciliation between Matt and his father.
The doorbell rings again, and I wipe at my wet cheeks and then—I don’t know what’s gotten into me, it’s just too much emotion crammed into too little space, I guess—but I pull Matt to me and kiss him on the mouth, hard.
And then I do the same with Johnny.
They both look dumbfounded, and it’s sweet and kind of flattering and I can’t think about how I’m going to explain that to Matt later, I just can’t. But luckily, he’s going to have something else on his mind for a while.
“Forget about me right now, okay? Go get the door,” I say, cupping both their cheeks as something surges up inside me that I don’t want to put a name to.
Not after just knowing them for a month.
Not when I feel it for both of them.
And not when I’m running out of time to do anything about it, anyway.
“Eden—”
“I am not meeting your father looking like this, Matt,” I say firmly, kissing him again because I’m greedy. I turn to Johnny. “And don’t think I don’t know what tonight means to you, too.”
I’ve picked up on the fact that Santiago has been like a surrogate father to him, and oh, Lord, it’s like something broke free inside me and I can’t stuff it back where it belongs, because with my hand still on Matt’s face, I turn and kiss Johnny again, too.
I don’t wait to see their reaction this time, because I’m sure my makeup is a mess now and I just… I just need a minute. I do hear Johnny call after me, though.
“We’re not done talking about this, Eden.”
“About all of this,” Matt adds, sounding more serious than I’m used to from him… but not angry, thank God. And then the doorbell rings a third time, and I’m off the hook for now because they really do have to answer it.
I glance back just before ducking into the hall bathroom and see that Johnny’s pulled Matt against him in a quick hug.
Thank God they don’t look at odds over those kisses. Not at all, in fact. Johnny whispers something in Matt’s ear that I can’t hear, holding him close for a second, and whatever it is makes Matt relax a little as he glances toward the front door. He nods, and Johnny gives him a little push in that direction.
And me? Oh, Lord, I’m in trouble, because even though I know it’s pointless, for the first time since I can remember I want to fight my fate. And not just fight it.
These two sexy, big-hearted, overprotective boys of mine?
They make me want to win.
12
Matt
I’m not sure what I expect to feel when I open the door, but the first thing that hits me is that my father has a beard now. When did that happen? It’s trim and flattering and peppered with gray, and I should be saying hello, yeah? Or at least something.
But instead I’m just staring.
It’s one thing to know that my father’s about to turn fifty, but it’s something totally different to realize that he’s actually gotten older. My throat tightens up
, but before I can figure out how I’m gonna manage to get any words out when I’m not sure I’m even breathing, Dad saves me from needing to figure it out by pulling me into a tight hug.
“Mijo,” he says, sounding like he’s just as choked up as I am. “It is so good to see you again. Ocho años, no lo creo.”
Oh, shit. Eight years, he says, and even though it’s not an accusation, it hits me even harder than the shock of his new beard: eight years, and it’s my fault.
My arms tighten around him, and my father feels smaller, but somehow the same, too.
What the fuck had I been thinking, letting him get older and smaller like this? Letting so much time pass? And then I remember. Oh, right. I’d been thinking about how my father had always been the most solid thing in my life and I hadn’t even realized it until he’d betrayed me.
Except, now I’m also thinking maybe I was wrong.
Maybe Eden was right, and Dad wasn’t betraying me at all.
Maybe him coming out had nothing to do with me… and I’m the one who ended up letting him down.
“Lo siento, Papá,” I whisper. I’m sorry. It’s not what I thought the first thing I’d say would be, but I guess it’s what it needed to be, because as soon as those words get out, I can suddenly breathe again.
And then Johnny’s there, thank God, coming up behind me and clapping a hand on my shoulder. Giving my dad an easy smile and getting a hug of his own as he welcomes him and makes a little chitchat to let me have the minute I need to get a grip.
I know Johnny like the back of my hand, and yeah, its genuine—he’s always gotten along with my dad—but I also know he’s doing it for me. Jesus, he’s a godsend.
“Boys, boys,” Dad says, smiling at both of us as he ushers in the man he came with. “This is my Nick. He is looking forward to this dinner as much as I am, no?”
“Good to see you again, Nick,” Johnny says, that hand coming back to rest on my shoulder as I wonder for a second if I’m going to feel something ugly, but how can I? The guy doesn’t look like a threat. He actually looks like an accountant or something, just an ordinary guy who’s maybe wearing a little more pastel than your average CPA, but for real, I don’t even really notice that, because he’s also looking at my dad like… well, huh. Kind of like the looks Johnny’s been sneaking at me.
Like Nick wants to make sure Dad is okay.
And also like he’s one hundred percent there for Dad. Like, really there. And suddenly it’s like a lightbulb goes off in my head, and for the first time in my life it occurs to me that Dad didn’t just suddenly decide he liked dick—which I’m sorry, he’s still my father, so I can’t even—but that maybe he also wanted to go out and find someone who loves him.
Maybe—if I’m being honest in the privacy of my own head and all—someone who could love him better than Mom did.
“Nice to meet you, Nick,” I say, surprising myself by meaning it. “Hope dinner is okay. None of us are all that good in the kitchen—”
“What?” Dad interrupts me, eyebrows shooting to his hairline. “This I cannot believe. You were always my helper, mijo. ¿Que pasó?”
I know damn well what happened, but admitting that I rejected some of the things that had mattered the most to me just because they were associated with my dad would make me feel like a two-year-old having a tantrum. I’m saved again, though, when Eden comes into the room—jaw-droppingly gorgeous, as always—and Johnny jumps in with introductions.
“Santi, Nick, this is Eden, the inspiration for tonight’s dinner.”
“Uh-oh, does this mean I’m going to get the blame after we sit down and taste it?” she asks, cheeks going pink as she lets Dad take both her hands in his. “So nice to meet you.”
“So nice to meet you, Eden,” Dad says, beaming at her as he looks back and forth between Eden and me. “You are my Mateo’s novia…?”
She shrugs, throwing me a questioning look. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak Spanish.”
“Yet,” Johnny says confidently, resting a hand on her shoulder as he grins at my dad. “Learning another language is a goal of Eden’s. Me and Matty are gonna be helping her with it, ain’t that right, bro?”
“We are?” I ask, even though honestly, it sounds like a no-brainer. I don’t know why the idea seemed daunting before.
“Of course you are!” Dad says, eyes lighting up. “You cannot let this lovely one go all of her life without the beauty of Español en su vida, verdad?” He claps his hands together, rubbing them gleefully. “We can start tonight, ¿sí?”
Eden starts ushering us all toward the table, and while Dad gushes over the spread and Johnny jokes around with the two of them, I watch Nick.
Nick’s watching Dad, and he’s got a smile on his face. It’s delicate, walking a line somewhere between concern and love. I wonder if my father was just as nervous about tonight as I am. He probably had to work up some serious guts to come out here, let alone knock on the door, and this man helped him do it.
Must have.
“Do you speak any Spanish, Nick?” I ask, suddenly ashamed that I know nothing about this man who’s obviously such an important part of my father’s life. I’m pretty sure they’ve been together for six or seven years now, even though I’ve made a point of not paying attention to the details of my father’s new life. Still, I guess I’ve picked up a few from Johnny here and there, never letting myself really question him about how he was always up on that shit.
“Not as much as I should,” Nick answers me with a small smile. “You?”
“Same,” I say, suddenly embarrassed about it. Not that I can’t speak it, of course, but for the last eight years, I haven’t. I clear my throat. “Maybe Eden’s bucket list will help me correct that though, yeah?”
“Bucket list?” he asks, taking a seat and directing the question toward her with a look of genuine interest. “You’ve started one of those?”
“Started?” Johnny scoffs, grinning. “She’s almost done with it! All she’s got left is the language, right?”
Eden starts serving the food, and I laugh, pretty sure Johnny’s employing some selective memory on that one. “Yeah, no, bro. She’s still gotta go skydiving, too.”
He makes a face, and my dad laughs.
“Let me guess, this is not one you will be so quick to help her with, Johnny?” he teases, winking before he turns to explain to Nick. “You wonder where my gray hair came from? It was this one, always too reckless for his own good and getting my Mateo into trouble. Like the time on their bicycles when they decided to race one of the… what are they called?”
“Hey, now,” Johnny cuts in, laughing. “The duck boats? How come I get the blame for that? Matty’s a big boy. He’s the one who wanted to—”
“Pfft,” Dad interrupts, flapping a hand in the air to dismiss Johnny’s attempt at pinning that one on me. “My son only went along to make sure you did not kill yourself, no?”
“Truth,” I say, raising a hand in the air like I’m testifying.
Johnny wads up his napkin and throws it at me, grinning, and Eden smacks him on the arm, shaking her head.
“This is supposed to be a nice dinner,” she admonishes him, lips twitching. “No throwing things.”
“What?” Johnny asks with a ridiculous attempt at an innocent look. “I took the napkin ring off first.”
Nick laughs, and I see him and my dad exchange a look that… well, that’s nice. Not weird. Not over-the-top. Just kind of loving, you know? They kinda remind me of how that new guy down at the station, Asher, was with his fiancé. I mean, not that Dad and Nick remind me of those two, but I guess I’m just thinking that here I’ve seen these two gay couples, two weekends in a row, and they’re just… they’re just couples. Both guys, sure, but I mean… I guess I’m having trouble remembering why I was so sure that fact bothered me for so long when all I see right now is two people who get along like peas in a pod.
Sort of complementing each other.
Fitting each other.
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I’m thinking about that, trying to sort of test out how I feel about it, but my head is still jumbled. Dad is just… it’s too close, you know? So I switch for a second and go back to thinking about that guy Asher instead.
At the barbecue, I’d finally caught onto the fact that he’d been waiting on me to be an asshole, and that didn’t feel great. But actually seeing him and his man? Truth was, it didn’t bother me. I mean, sure, it was odd—you just don’t see it every day—but the odd faded fast and then it was just background. Just another couple, yeah?
A couple who seemed to fit each other.
I snicker, grabbing the wine glass Eden’s already filled for me to hide it behind. Because I mean, sure, looked like they fit as a couple, but not all their parts are gonna… fit, exactly, amirite?
And yeah, my mind went there, but I mean, I’m a guy, so pretty sure I get a pass. Hasn’t it been proven that sex is on our minds ninety-nine percent of the time? And yes, that is what I’m picturing right now, and two guys together? Kind of funny when you think about how maybe the word fitting doesn’t exactly fit, because with two dicks involved, there isn’t really a place to put—
“You okay, bro?” Johnny asks me when I suddenly start choking.
I nod, and he must see something in my face that tells him I desperately need a save right now even though thank fucking Christ he doesn’t know why, because before anyone else can comment about my sudden inability to get my drink to go down the right way, Johnny just rolls the conversation away from me and gives me a minute to get it together.
And holy shit, do I ever need that minute. Because yeah, I’m not ignorant. I know damn well there actually are a few places you could put your cock if you happened to have it out and about while getting, uh, you know, getting close to another guy. I mean, obviously there are, because gay sex is a thing, but it wasn’t so much the fact that made me choke as it was what those particular images did to my dick.
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