“Connor was twenty. He’d come home from college. I was sixteen.”
Seth processed that information.
I wasn’t really sure why I had offered it, why I’d started there. Maybe as proof that Connor hadn’t been doing things with me when I was a kid.
“So that was the first time you two got together? First time Connor made a move?”
As well-intentioned and kind as Seth was being, he was only proving Connor’s fears right. Those fears I had downplayed over and over again. “No. I was the first one to make a move. I crept into his bed while he was sleeping one night.”
“Oh. I see.”
I doubted he did, especially now I was suddenly seeing things a little clearer from Connor’s perspective. “I tried to make a move on him that night, but he freaked out and told me to get out of his room.” It had been the first time Connor had ever raised his voice toward me.
Seth continued to study me with narrowed eyes. I didn’t feel judgment from him, but I couldn’t read his expression. Suddenly I didn’t want to do this anymore. The earlier impulse about betraying Connor heightened. Seth started to take another drink of wine, but paused, the glass halfway to his lips. “So when did—”
“I’m sorry, Seth. I can’t do this. It doesn’t feel right.” God, those were the words I should’ve said the first night we’d started dating. It had been meant to simply be fun, to be a distraction, for both of us.
Seth gave a little wince, then nodded. “Okay. I just thought you might need to talk.”
Maybe I did, but not like this. “I can’t ask that. World’s best bartender or not. This is unfair to you.” Just because that wasn’t the real reason I was cutting the conversation short didn’t make it any less true. “I should probably go. I’m sorry to waste your wine.” I slid the glass onto the small table at the edge of the sofa.
“Don’t worry. It won’t be wasted.” Seth attempted a smile and sounded relieved. “Are you going to be okay?”
“You’re way too kind to worry about me after all of this. But yeah, I always am.” I realized I’d only been thinking of me. Me and Connor’s and my secrets. “What about you?”
He waved me off. “I’ve had my heart trampled before. Nothing a good three-way or so won’t cure.”
More confirmation. I really had hurt him. The moment felt like it needed humor, some spike of relief, but I didn’t have it in me. So I simply nodded and stood. Seth followed my lead. We left the living room and headed back through the foyer. I paused at the front door and turned to give him a hug.
Seth hesitated but then hugged me back.
“Sorry, Seth. I really am.” It wasn’t a lie, not in the slightest.
He nodded against my ear, then pulled away.
I started to reach for the door but looked back one final time. “You really will keep this between us?”
I’d expected a look of insult or irritation across his features. Instead I only saw pity. “Yes, Micah. I promise.”
Six
Connor
I split my life into sections. Maybe it says something that all my life-changing events happened by the time I was twenty. Perhaps it meant I got stuck at that age. Although, I suppose that wasn’t really a mystery. Clearly I was much more than stuck. Either way, my life was easily split into portions. That part was no secret. Everyone divided my life, almost like the history of the world, BC and AD. For me, it was BB and AB—before the Bryants and after the Bryants.
Most of the time, I did a stellar job of never thinking about the BB portion of my life. I wasn’t so cut off from it that I supposed it didn’t affect me, but that time simply was what it was. And the effects on me and my personality simply were what they were. Easy as that.
Well, nothing about the BB period of life was easy. But somehow, having the entire town aware of it, having everyone pinpoint to a specific date and be able to say this is when Connor Clark’s life changed, when he became a Bryant, somehow it helped make it all manageable. The part everyone didn’t know? That second portion of my life only consisted of seven years. Seven years of being grafted into the Bryant family, truly becoming Patrick and Regina Bryant’s son. Being Hayley, Gilbert, Lacy, and Micah Bryant’s brother. Seven years of finally being free, being safe, being loved. They were the easiest and happiest of my life.
Then, the third life-changing event. The night Micah snuck into my bed. Ever since then, the BB and the AB were swept away into nothing other than M. Simply M. Micah had overpowered everything else. Or at least my love for him and the tumult that accompanied it overpowered everything else.
But as I looked around the massive room, allowing the chatter and laughter of my family to wash over me, part of that contrast of the BB and AB times came back. And with it, a reminder of just how my life truly had changed for the better.
I’d been the youngest of three children, the accident after the others were nearly raised. By the time I had much of a personality of my own, my older brother and sister were out of the house, allowing me to be the sole focus of my mother’s religious fervor and my father’s alcoholic abusive disdain. And while there were key moments in our tiny house that had been loud, full of screams, tirades, and the sounds of skin beating skin, mostly it had been quiet. All quiet ceased at the age of thirteen when I walked through the Bryant’s doorway and moved into Gilbert’s room. My family of three had grown into a family of seven overnight. Now, here we were, that family of seven morphed into a family of thirteen. There was never a moment of silence in this house. And I loved it, even if it could be overwhelming at times. Especially given many of the personalities in the Bryant clan.
Sometimes in the midst of all the… confusion over Micah, I forgot to remember. To simply recall how my world had changed. How it could’ve gone so differently. Moses walking into my life made that clearer than ever. I was starting to make it a habit to simply look around at my family and not take them for granted.
Dillon sat at the head of the table; we were celebrating his thirteenth birthday. Thirteenth birthday…. Maybe that was why I felt so introspective. The year of my biggest shift in life. Dillon’s parents, Hayley and James, sat on either side of him, bookended by his younger siblings, Jackson and Olive. I let my gaze travel around the table. Dad was whispering something to Olive, and Mom was laughing at something Lacy said. Micah sat next to Lacy, but was in deep conversation with Moses. Probably going into detail about organic farming or maybe captivating Moses with stories of New York. I hadn’t seen Micah in nearly a week. Not since the stupid Meat Market. I’d almost found an excuse to skip the dinner, but no way I could miss my nephew’s birthday, no matter how uncomfortable I was going to be. I spent the entire day preparing myself to see Seth and Micah together again. And yet Micah had shown up on his own. Stupidly, it almost pissed me off. I had no doubt he came solo for my benefit. Though I wasn’t sure if it was to spare my feelings or offer more temptation. My irritation lessened as I watched Moses grow more and more relaxed as Micah spoke.
Gilbert and Walden sat closest to me.
Walden cast a glance at Moses and then leaned a little closer to me, keeping his voice low. “Gilbert and I were talking the other day, and I know Moses has a summer job, but we were thinking maybe he’d want to come up with us to the cabin by Lake Tahoe in July for a couple of weeks. You can come too, of course, but we thought it might be fun for him to have a little vacation, get away from Lavender Shores for a while. With the custody battle finally ending a few weeks ago, I figured he needed a break. And maybe you as well.”
I glanced at Gilbert. I wasn’t surprised by the offer from Walden—he was a teacher and loved kids, but my brother, not so much. Gilbert noticed my inquiring expression, then simply nodded before joining in Lacy and Mom’s conversation. Look at that, Gilbert willingly spending two weeks with a kid. Times really were changing. Although, Moses hardly qualified as a kid. He was seventeen, and in so many ways, much, much older.
If Walden was offended by me needing confirmation
from my brother, he didn’t show it. “I was also thinking, while he’s there, I could work with him on some of his math and science skills. I’m actually impressed with his reading and writing ability, considering his lack of formal education, but the math and science are severely lacking.” Walden scrunched up his nose, and I could read his thoughts.
I patted Walden’s arm. “You don’t have to worry about offending me. I’m well aware of what Moses comes from.” I laughed. “But I’m not sure you can blame it all on that. I’ve seen some of his scores from his math and science classes. They’re a hell of a lot better than mine were. I think we’re both genetically disposed to hate that shit. I’m willing to bet the right side of our brains has encroached on the left. I’m certain you’re an amazing teacher, but I’m not sure two weeks is going to solve any math and science related problems that any nephew of mine might have.”
“Well, it can’t hurt.” Walden glanced at Moses, then back at me. “Do you want me to invite him, or do you think he’d be more comfortable discussing it with you first?”
“Go ahead and invite him. I’m sure he’ll jump at the chance.” Time without Moses. I knew exactly what that meant for Micah and me. Maybe I should head out of town myself.
I needed to get the conversation off of Moses, off anything remotely adjacent to Micah. I grasped at low-hanging fruit. “Have you heard if Joel and Andrew had their dates with the town’s favorite lesbians?”
Walden chuckled and shook his head. “I haven’t. But I think the real question is, have you and Pete had your date?”
As if my brother’s ears had been formed with the sole purpose of picking up any chance to needle me, Gilbert swiveled around and raised his voice. “That’s right! We all want details about your hot steamy night with Pete! Did you all get freaky on the counter of Lavender Leaves? Maybe use those weird cappuccino machine tools as some sort of toys in y’alls’ twisted sexcapades?”
“Gilbert!” Hayley rose from her chair, reached across the table and smacked Gilbert on the shoulder. “Do I really need to remind you that you’re at a child’s birthday party—”
“Mom!” Dillon’s expression confirmed he had already gotten the role of teenager down perfectly. “I’m not a kid. I’m thirteen now!”
Hayley glared at him. “You can remind me of that this once, since it’s your birthday. After tonight, however, I’m going to take it as you reminding me that I’m getting older, and I’ll probably ground you.” Dillon rolled his eyes, clearly not worried, and Hayley turned back to Gilbert. “And your niece is barely seven.”
Gilbert gave a matching expression to Dillon’s. “Sis, you’ve known me my whole life. You knew exactly what type of family you were bringing children into. Too late to complain about it now. If either one of us is to blame for being inappropriate for children, it’s you.”
James laughed, receiving a glare from both his wife and my father. He shrugged. “Well, he’s not wrong. I’m nearly forty and I’m still shocked about what I married into at times.”
Gilbert smacked the table. “Exactly! In fact”—he pointed at Mom—“I really expected you to be wearing your outfit from the fundraiser the other night. It was festive, and your oldest grandchild’s birthday is surely a reason to dress up.” His teasing expression clouded for a moment, and he glanced at Moses, then smacked him on the shoulder. “Correction, second-oldest grandchild.” He glanced at Dillon. “Sorry bud, you’ve been displaced. But happy birthday anyway!”
The table was equally mixed between groans and laughter. For his part, Dillon just shrugged. “Fine by me. I already counted the presents. There’s still more than last year.”
“Dillon Patrick Wills!” Hayley look scandalized. “I’ve raised you better than that!”
Gilbert roared with laughter as he pushed back his chair and hurried to the head of the table, holding out his hand for a high five. “That’s my man! Keep things in perspective!”
The sound of Dillon’s palm smacking his uncle’s was lost in the explosion of more laughter and exclamations from our family.
Yeah, life had gotten loud after my thirteenth year, and it never seemed to quiet down. Thank God.
As the chatter continued around me, Micah’s gaze met mine over the table. He smiled, and though I could see a touch of heat in his eyes—that was never gone—it was overpowered by affection.
I couldn’t help but smile back. One moment I would give anything to not feel what I felt for him. For him not to love me like he did. The next, I wouldn’t trade it for anything, in fact I’d fight to keep it. I felt another set of eyes on me, and I glanced beside Micah. Moses was studying me. His gaze flashed to Micah and then back to me. Confusion clouded his expression, and then I could literally see him give a mental shake, and he relaxed. I seized the moment before it could become something else. “I was just talking to Walden. He and Gilbert were thinking maybe you’d like to hang out with them at Lake Tahoe for a couple of weeks.”
My diversion worked, and Moses’s eyes widened as he gaped at Walden and Gilbert. “Seriously?”
Walden nodded. “Yeah. If you’d like. Lavender Shores is pretty great, but so is the lake. I think you’d have a lot of fun.”
“Hey!” Dillon piped up again, this time looking genuinely offended. “I’m fine not being the oldest grandson, but I’ve never gotten an invitation to the lake.”
His younger brother and sister chimed in about wanting to go, too.
Gilbert glared at me. “I think we need to have a little talk about discretion.” Then he raised his hands in the air for silence. “The rule for coming to Uncle Gilbert and Walden’s cabin at the lake is that you have to be accompanied by parents or have a boss who can deny your vacation request.” He leveled a stare at Micah. “I’m sure you require Moses putting in an application for time off, correct?”
Micah smirked but made his voice appropriately serious. “That is true. Adrian and I will have to give serious thought to if we can spare him.” He twisted to look at Hayley’s three children. “However, if you guys are interested, Adrian and I could both use some extra hands in the field and in the greenhouse. We always need fertilizer spread.”
Both boys grimaced and quit protesting. Olive, on the other hand, didn’t lose any excitement. “I want to work on your farm, Uncle Micah. Can I?”
Mom jumped in. “Sweetie, why don’t you come work with me at the real estate office sometime?”
Olive shook her head. “I want to work on the farm and spread fertilizer.”
“Fertilizer is poop, dear.” Mom chuckled at the horrified expression that crossed Olive’s face. “But if you come work with me, I know some houses that have big pools in the backyard. Maybe we can sneak in and go swimming.”
This brought on a whole new clamoring from Olive’s brothers about wanting to join in.
As the chaos continued, Micah captured my gaze once more. This time, there was nothing but heat in his expression, and I didn’t have to wonder why. Two weeks with Moses at Lake Tahoe. Two weeks where I wasn’t playing father and uncle. Two weeks to go back to how we were the year before.
The memory of him on the teacher’s desk, legs spread, rushed through me. The feel of his body against mine, his heat and tightness surrounding my cock. I stiffened in my pants, and shame bit through me. I was so fucked-up. Lusting after my brother at my nephew’s thirteenth birthday party. I looked away from him, and though I felt him continue to watch me, I refused to meet his eyes.
Even so, I couldn’t pretend I didn’t know what would happen the minute Moses headed out of town with Gilbert and Walden. Micah would be at my door.
Shit, I’d probably be at his. Or at least waiting in our cavern for Micah to slip out of bed, leaving Seth behind, and join me.
Yeah, I really would have to go out of town the second Moses left.
God. Fucked-up didn’t even begin to cover it.
I managed to get Gilbert on his own for a few seconds between the meal and birthday cake. “Are you sure you
’re okay with having Moses with you at the lake?”
“I said I was.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m not truly evil, you know. I won’t corrupt him.”
“Shut up.” I smacked his arm. “You know I didn’t mean that. But I also know you and kids. Oil, water.”
He shrugged. “I made it perfectly clear at dinner there would be no kids at the cabin. I love my nephews and nieces, but in small, contained doses. Moses is seventeen. Not a kid. And he’s like you were. In a lot of ways, I swear he’s older than me. Plus”—another shrug—“he’s your family, so he’s my family. Enough said.”
Gilbert never stopped amazing me, and never ceased being too good to me.
He leveled a stare and pointed a finger at my face. “You look like you’re on the verge of saying I love you or crying or some shit.” He cocked an eyebrow, even as he was obviously struggling to suppress a grin. “Stop it.”
Candles were lit, “Happy Birthday” sung, and then cake and ice cream devoured. Through it all, there continued to be laughter and merriment. I faked it as best I could, but I wasn’t sure how convincing I was. Neither was I sure how Micah fared. I actively avoided any chance of our eyes meeting.
We were in the living room, Dillon opening his gifts. I watched Moses through this process. I could read his thoughts. Remembered having them myself. While the birthday stash was nothing compared to Christmas, it was still new enough to be a bizarre sort of miracle. Though he and I hadn’t had long conversations comparing childhood notes, I knew how few and infrequent gifts were in the Clark households. Hell, nearly twenty years later and sometimes I was still taken aback by the lavishness at the Bryants. At times it almost seemed grotesque. So much excess when many others had so little. Maybe that was true, but the sensation was lessened by knowing the amount of gifts the Bryants bestowed on each other was nothing compared to what they gave to others. The LGBTQ youth center close to my hometown being the latest demonstration of their generosity.
The Hideaway (Lavender Shores Book 5) Page 7
