The pile of fur beside him batted at the swaying crystal. Aiden leaned across the bed and plucked a half-smoked joint from the ashtray. He lit it, inhaled, exhaled, and watched the afternoon light bounce off the amethyst, sending lilac shards dancing across his bedroom walls.
Aiden’s phone buzzed on the pillow.
Daisy Yuen 12/7 5:03 p.m.
Guess who landed an internship with mothafuckin Blizzard?
Aiden Maar 12/7 5:03 p.m.
daisy did
Daisy Yuen 12/7 5:04 p.m.
Guess who needs a place to stay after the first of the year?
Aiden Maar 12/7 5:05 p.m.
daisy does
Daisy Yuen 12/7 5:05 p.m.
:)
Aiden Maar 12/7 5:06 p.m.
i have a couch and a kitchen and a working shower
Daisy Yuen 12/7 5:07 p.m.
That’s all I need in life
Aiden Maar 12/7 5:07 p.m.
its been a minute
Daisy Yuen 12/7 5:08 p.m.
Only four years. See you in a month. Thanks for saving my ass.
Aiden Maar 12/7 5:09 p.m.
anytime
He hadn’t seen Daisy’s name flash across his phone in a long time. They followed each other on Instagram. She checked in on holidays and birthdays and sometimes sent him pictures of kittens, but he hadn’t heard her voice in months. He puffed on the joint and stared at the exchange of texts. He scrolled up, down. Read them, reread them.
Aiden often jumped before he looked, especially when it came to the few people he cared about, but he probably should’ve thought a bit longer before offering Daisy his living room. What was there to think about, though? It was Daisy. It was his best friend, returning from her stint in college, and he had the chance to live with her. He had the chance to remedy the loneliness he pretended he didn’t suffer from.
He swiped across the screen and clicked on Shannon’s name.
Aiden Maar 12/7 5:14 p.m.
so daisy is gonna live with me
Three dots. Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. Buzz.
Shannon Wurther 12/7 5:15 p.m.
yay?
Aiden Maar 12/7 5:15 p.m.
yes yay. she got a badass internship in irvine
Shannon Wurther 12/7 5:17 p.m.
smart cookie. is this a good time to ask you to come to milford with me for new years?
Aiden stared at his phone. The weed made his thoughts fuzzy and his limbs slow-moving.
“Mercy.” Aiden swatted the bed. She yawned. “Shannon wants me to meet his parents.”
She meowed.
Aiden Maar 12/7 5:20 p.m.
you sure?
Shannon Wurther 12/7 5:21 p.m.
yep.
Aiden Maar 12/7 5:22 p.m.
alright yeah
Shannon Wurther 12/7 5:23 p.m.
okay
He sank into the comforter and hauled Mercy against his chest. She let him squeeze her, meowing contently when he nuzzled his face against her head.
“Well, this’ll be interesting,” Aiden mumbled.
Interesting was the easiest thing he could come up with. It was bound to happen. He knew that; he understood that. But the thought of meeting a household of Wurthers was overwhelming. Shannon was enough; he was more than enough. The idea of his mother and father, retired cop father no less, opened a pit in Aiden’s stomach. He barely knew how to behave as it was. How was he supposed to act around Shannon’s family? Aiden didn’t know how to be anything other than himself, and he was well aware of the effect he had on people.
Everyone’s always dying to know everything, and you don’t give it to them. That’s why people think you’re dangerous.
Aiden took a deep breath.
Mercy acknowledged him with a quiet, “Mrow.”
22
There was nothing about this conversation that Shannon wanted to have.
Sex wasn’t an uncomfortable topic—he was an adult—however, talking about sex with Karman was all-inclusive, no detail left unsaid. She could go on for hours, days even, rambling about which position was best for who, what to start with, which foods to eat before and after, down to the music that should be playing in the background.
Now, she was going on and on about preparation. What to do—and Shannon knew what to do—when it came to Aiden Maar’s virginity.
“I don’t need a play-by-play; I can handle that part. I need advice on how to talk about it, not what to do.”
Karman lounged on the worn purple loveseat against the front window of the Koffee Klatch, while Shannon sat across from her on an egg-shaped futon. She said, “You’re the one who texted me, sweetheart. I’m just surprised you went this long without finding out.”
“It’s only been two months, Cruz.”
“Yeah, but still, I would’ve knocked that shit out in the beginning. That’s just me though. So, what now, where are you with this situation?”
Shannon’s brows pushed together, deepening the two lines that appeared between them when he was nervous or confused or deep in concentration. “What do you mean, where are we?”
Karman twirled her hand and fluttered her lashes. “C’mon, spill. Are we talkin’ dry as a desert here, or have you at least ventured down south for something?”
“Karman.” Shannon groaned. His head lolled back. The coffee cup in his hands burned hotter the tighter he held it.
“So, who went down on who?”
Shannon’s mouth tightened. “We’re talking about my virgin boyfriend, who do you think?”
Karman grinned. She waved her hand as if she was beckoning an animal. “You totally went down on him first. Details, c’mon.”
“We’re not children, Cruz. Can we get back to the point, please? I told him we’d take it slow, and that’s my intention, but how slow do I take it? How am I supposed to bring this up with him? He’s nervous as it is. I don’t want to freak him out.”
“Ask!” She sipped her cappuccino. “Ask him about it, you idiot. Talk to him about what he likes and what he doesn’t. It’s not that hard; you guys are fated. The more you think about it, the worse it’ll be.”
“I can’t just ask him.”
“Why not?”
“You don’t know him. He’ll clam up, shut down, get angry. I don’t know. It was fine when we sort of talked about it before because we didn’t do much talking.”
“What’s the problem, then?” Karman kicked one leg over the other and smoothed her black pants. A stark white coat was draped around her and tied at her waist. “Continue with the not-talking and you’ll be fine. It’s obvious you two are physically communicative rather than emotionally. Some Rose Roads vary between the two, some lean one way more than the other. Over time it’ll balance out.”
“I think we’re more than physically communicative. We’re emotionally… I mean, we talk, Karman. We talk a lot, we just… Wait, how do you know all this terminology?”
“High School Camellia Clock Therapy,” she said, as if it was nothing. Shannon hadn’t attended that; he hadn’t had to. It made sense, though. Karman was young when she timed out, and schools all the way from middle school to college had therapeutic options, classes, counseling, the works, in case a couple needed help.
It was too bad Shannon and Aiden were two grown men who couldn’t communicate. If they wanted help, they’d need to sign up for couples counseling—absolutely not—or organized group exercises—no—or better yet, spend a month taking compassion classes—hell, no.
“How do you solve problems together?” Karman leaned forward with a sly smile curving her lips. “Do you sit down and talk? Find a solution step-by-step?”
“No, absolutely not. We’re terrible at speaking to one another about anything serious. I get mad, he gets mad, I get upset, he gets
upset. We usually just—”
“Work it out physically?”
As always, Karman was right. He stared at his lap while his thumbs picked at the lid atop his coffee cup. His mind kept rushing back to Aiden’s trembling hands, one on the back of his neck, the other on his chest, and apprehension showing on his face like flashing lights. Stop. Halt. Slow down.
He thought about Aiden’s nervousness, and he thought about how they’d solved every situation through physical affection. Upset with each other? Physical. Pleased with each other? Physical. Confused with each other? Physical.
From the first night when Aiden had kissed him to yesterday after he’d been arrested, all Shannon and Aiden had done to work through their differences was attempt to devour or smother each other.
“It won’t work forever,” Karman piped up.
Obviously, the look on his face was as good as a teleprompter. Words scrolled by that displayed his every thought and worry and curiosity.
He inhaled sharply and shrugged. “We’ll figure it out. Is that your advice, though, to ask him what he likes? You think he’ll respond well to that?”
“I don’t know him, remember? That’s all you, Wurther. He responded well to it before, didn’t he? Don’t be scared of him. Don’t hold back; that’ll just make things worse. You said he’s high-strung, right?”
Shannon’s eyes bulged and he scoffed, “That’s an understatement.”
“Then let him come to you,” Karman said. “Let him call the shots.”
“You’re probably right.”
“I’m always right,” Karman chirped.
00:00
Aiden fidgeted in the passenger seat. Shannon turned up the radio.
They hadn’t talked about it—the dinner. Aiden wondered if they should’ve.
He had terminology lined up, a way to describe Marcus that would alleviate some of the pressure. But it was all wrong, and he knew it. Marcus wasn’t stuck-up; he wasn’t bitter or high-and-mighty or overwhelming. He was just better, and Aiden didn’t know how to say that without sounding as though he was searching for pity.
“What if he doesn’t like me?” Shannon blurted, flicking his left blinker on as they idled at a red light.
“He’ll like you,” Aiden assured.
“Okay, but what if he doesn’t?”
Aiden rolled his eyes. He raked his gaze from Shannon’s standard blue jeans, to the tight knit white sweater with large oval buttons left open at the collar, to hair groomed into whipping waves on his head, messy and inviting and handsome. Marcus would adore him, the way he did everything that was traditional and good-natured. He would take one look at Shannon and understand why Aiden felt inadequate.
“Aiden, is there anything I should know? Anything I shouldn’t say?”
“He’s an art teacher; we like pineapple on our pizza; don’t bring up our parents. That’s it.”
“Does he know about… Does he know how we met?” Shannon parked the car. He offered Aiden an apologetic look, lips drawn into a frown. He’d been aware of his offense as soon as he’d said it.
“Yes, he knows I’m a fuckup; don’t worry. Get out of the car,” Aiden snapped, unfastening his seat belt.
They walked through the front door of the pizza parlor. Its walls were plastered with sports placards and team flags. Claw machines, a photo booth, sticker dispensers, and an assortment of video games crowded the back room. Tables spread out in front of the counter, which had a pale yellow menu lit above it.
Aiden nudged Shannon with his shoulder. “C’mon, he’s over here.”
He stalked toward a round table. Bats fluttered around inside him. Beer bottle dangling from his hand, glasses on the tip of his nose, Marcus watched a basketball game on one of the many big screens attached to the right wall. He glanced up when Aiden slapped the table with his palm.
“Hi.” Aiden nodded at Shannon. “This is Shannon. Shannon, this is my brother, Marcus.”
Marcus offered a smile and extended his hand to Shannon. “Nice to finally meet you, Shannon.”
Aiden stepped around the back of Marcus’ chair and curled his fingers over his brother’s shoulders. He rested his chin on the top of Marcus’ head and watched as Shannon grasped his hand and gave a polite shake.
There, it was over.
Marcus cracked his neck, but Aiden didn’t move, just slid his cheek to rest on top of Marcus’ head. This, he realized, as he stared at Shannon across the table, might not be a disaster.
“Pineapple and jalapeño?” Aiden eyed Marcus down the slope of his nose.
Marcus nodded, lifting Aiden’s head along with his own. “That’s fine with me. Shannon, do you like pineapple and jalapeño? It’s kind of a weird combination, we know.”
Shannon shrugged; his hands were folded in his lap and his back was straight as an arrow against the wooden chair. Aiden smirked, pleased with the scratch of Marcus’ shaved head against his cheek and the sight of Shannon’s confused little smile.
“That’s fine. Get ranch, though,” he said, glancing from Marcus to Aiden and back again.
“Blue Moon sound good?” Aiden straightened up.
Shannon nodded. “Yeah, sure, whatever you’re having.”
“Make the pizza an extra-large!” Marcus said before Aiden could walk away. “I invited someone. She should be here any minute.”
Aiden’s lips slipped into a surprised ‘O’ and then parted into an open-mouthed grin. “You brought the mystery girl?”
“Go order the pizza, Aiden.”
“I actually get to meet this woman?” Aiden cooed snidely.
“And her daughter, which means you have to be on good behavior. Can you handle not being an asshole for an hour?” Marcus snapped his fingers. “Go get the pizza.”
Shannon watched Aiden. He gave a dismissive shrug, but his gaze lingered until Marcus leaned forward and engaged him in conversation. Good, they could talk, and Aiden could escape, which had been the plan the whole time. Shannon didn’t look too excited about being left alone with Marcus, but Aiden was sure they’d get along just fine.
He pretended he didn’t know what he wanted until the cashier looked sufficiently annoyed. Once two chilled blue bottles were in his hands and a table number clasped between his fingers, Aiden turned from the counter. As he was staring at his feet he heard a squeaky voice yell, “Shannon!”
Aiden snapped to attention. He moved out of the way of another family waiting to order and watched a woman walk up to their table. A smaller version of her sprang into Shannon’s lap: baby pink sneakers, big curls around her shoulders, and ruddy-tan skin. Shannon also looked up, just as the blood was draining from his face, and locked eyes with Aiden.
Aiden had a sinking feeling, followed by an unintentional scowl when he realized that the woman sitting beside Marcus was the woman from the beach, and the woman from the beach was the woman from the parking structure—a cop, a friend of Shannon. Last, anxiety bubbled to the surface, masked as stubborn, irrational annoyance.
He forced his legs to move, put one foot in front of the other, and handed Shannon a beer before he sat. He stared at the woman next to Marcus. Her lips were heavily painted plum, her lashes were dark, and bronzer glittered on her cheeks. Her wild hair was swept back in a ponytail, thick ringlets bursting from the back of her head.
Shannon squeezed Aiden’s knee beneath the table.
“Small world,” Karman snapped. “Turns out you’re more than a littering ass, after all. You happen to be dating my partner.” She extended her hand. “Detective Cruz,” she said smoothly, “you can call me Karman. It’s a pleasure to officially meet you.”
“You’ve met?” Shannon croaked.
“Quarter,” Fae said, playing with the buttons on Shannon’s shirt from her place on his lap. “Hi, tiger.”
“Aiden Maar.” Aiden took her hand.
She squeezed; his knuckles popped in her grip. “You happen to be dating my brother. Don’t worry, we’re nothing alike.” He growled a smile, and she growled one back. Growl tamed to a pleasant grin, he shifted his eyes. “Hi, butterfly, do you wanna play video games with me?”
“I’m Fae now, but you can still call me butterfly if you want. Are you Shannon’s boyfriend? He talks about you.”
“He does?” Aiden’s gaze flicked to Shannon. “Yeah, I guess I am his boyfriend. Does he say nice things?”
“Yeah, I guess. He says he found you in an art place which means you must be art, which is cool. Marcus teaches me about art.”
Aiden chewed on his bottom lip to suppress a smile. “Well, Fae, do you wanna play with me? I’m bored.”
Marcus heaved a sigh.
Fae nodded. “I guess so, yeah. They are kinda boring, huh?”
“They’re totally boring,”
Shannon’s thumb stroked Aiden’s thigh, and when Aiden looked up, Shannon smiled at him.
Aiden took Fae’s hand and glanced at Karman, who analyzed his every move, a bird of prey surveying a mouse. “I’ll bring her back when the pizza comes out.” Aiden arched a brow.
Karman nodded. “I know,” she said sharply and turned to Fae. “Be good, baby. Don’t let that tiger bite you, okay?”
Aiden narrowed his eyes.
Fae tugged on Aiden’s hand. “Do you bite, tiger?”
“Ask Shannon,” Aiden cooed innocently.
00:00
Shannon knew the gradations of Karman’s anger. Tonight she was a solid furious, but Shannon couldn’t figure out why.
She stared at him across the table. He chewed on his bottom lip. Marcus shifted his arm around the back of her chair and tapped on her shoulder. She eyed his dark fingertips, turned, and eyed him. He eyed her right back.
“This is interesting,” Marcus said, deep voice a rumble in his throat.
Shannon sipped his beer. Interesting was an understatement.
“This is very interesting, actually,” Karman said, pointing her words at Shannon.
“Where’d you two meet?” Shannon asked.
“I’m Fae’s teacher. We met at the school a few months back.” Marcus grinned.
Fortitude Smashed Page 15
