Ten

Ten

Max

I text Jude shortly after I wake up, but I don’t get a response from him. I try not to let it dampen my mood as I get ready for lunch. We had a good time last night. I’m sure he’ll get in touch when he’s ready.

That line of thinking doesn’t stop me from checking my phone repeatedly on the walk to the deli a few blocks past my bar. For just a breath, I consider skipping in case Jude calls. But I dismiss the idea immediately.

These monthly lunches have been going on for two years. I’m not about to stop now.

When I pull open the door to the deli, I’m hit with the scent of chicken and roast beef and freshly cut onions. Just like it is when I come here on the final Saturday of every month.

Gary, Juan, and Lacey are already at a table near the back, dressed in plainclothes instead of their firefighter uniforms.

Gary whoops when I come in the door, and Juan stands to hug me. They were Patrick’s best friends, and most days, they feel like the only people who really get how much I miss him.

“You look different,” Lacey says when I sit in the chair across from her.

“He had sex,” Gary says. “Why do you think I whooped when he came in?”

“I did not have sex.” I feel bad lying about Jude, but I don’t want them thinking I’ve moved on from Patrick too quickly or something.

Gary snorts. “I can tell. Don’t lie to us.”

I glance away, studying the menu even though I already know everything on it.

“Maybe he doesn’t want to talk about it,” Juan says.

“Yeah, unlike you, who takes out a billboard every time a woman touches you,” Lacey teases.

Gary rolls his eyes and elbows my side. “Come on. You can tell us.”

“His name is Jude.” The words are out of me before I can tell myself this is a bad idea. What if they think two years isn’t long enough to be alone? They all knew and loved Patrick.

“Is that all you’re planning on giving us?” Lacey asks. “What’s he like?”

The genuine happiness in her voice makes me smile. “He drives a motorcycle.”

She holds up a hand. “Say no more.”

“No, say more,” Gary says. “Do it for those of us who haven’t had a date in weeks. We need to live vicariously through you.”

Juan shoots him a disapproving look.

Gary ignores him. “Where’d you meet Jude?”

“At the bar. He’s actually Rowan’s younger brother.” When I first realized who Jude was, it surprised me. Rowan frequently talked about him as if he were someone young and in need of protection. But Jude is so strong. It’s hard for me to see him as anything other than what he is today.

“Oh, that’s a really good idea,” Lacey starts but stops when the waiter comes by for our order. Once the waiter’s gone, she looks back at me. “I don’t know Rowan as well as you do, but he seemed rather…protective of Jude. You really think he’d be okay with you two sleeping together?”

“He doesn’t care. Well, he wouldn’t care if he knew. He and Jude barely speak to each other.”

Lacey exchanges a look with the other two, and it grates my nerves.

“If you have something to say, then you should say it.”

“We think—”

“You,” Gary interrupts. “You think. Juan and I are staying out of it.”

Lacey’s lips press together before she continues. “I think you should be careful, that’s all. We know how hard you love people. And we just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Oh.” That wasn’t really what I was expecting. “You’re not upset that I’m seeing someone else?”

“What?” Juan asks, leaning forward slightly. “Why would we be upset?”

I shrug because I’m not sure I can put it into words. I know they’re my friends and they love me, but I only met them because of Patrick. I don’t want them to see my dating Jude as a betrayal to the guy they loved so much.

“We’re not upset,” Lacey says when I don’t answer.

“Yeah, we were actually talking last week on shift about how it was time for you to get laid again,” Gary adds.

Someone kicks him under the table, and he grunts before saying, “Well, we were. But it was a classy discussion.”

My face warms at the idea that they were discussing my sex life. They all knew how in love with Patrick I was. We were all destroyed when he died, but it was different for me. I really never thought I’d meet someone after that. The weight of his death was so crushing. It took weeks before I was even turned on at the idea of being with a guy again.

Lacey reaches over and lays her hand on top of mine. “We’re happy for you, Max. But if he hurts you, we’ll kill him.”

“And we have friends in high places,” Gary adds. “We could get away with it. Probably.”

I’m relieved when the waiter returns with our food so the conversation can shift. I love them being so open and accepting, but I could also go the rest of my life without having another conversation like this.

***

When I leave the deli, I head for the cemetery, like I always do after these lunches. I visit Patrick at other times besides the monthly lunch, but there’s something about being around his friends that makes me want to be near him too. Even if he can’t talk back.

I stare down at his headstone, the polished rock gleaming in the afternoon sun. Even with all the times I’ve visited him, I still feel like I have more to say. I wonder if that feeling will ever go away.

I kiss the tips of my fingers, then press them to the headstone. “I’ve missed you. Big shock, I know.”

The only answer I receive is the wind whistling around the trees. I kneel and brush some of the dead leaves from the top of his plot.

“I met someone.” I whisper the confession because it feels like such a betrayal to him, even though my heart knows all Patrick would’ve wanted was for me to be happy.

“Well, he’s not really someone, I guess. He’s not staying long, but…I like him. I haven’t really liked a guy since…you left.” I cringe when I say it because it makes it sound like I believe he abandoned me or something. Not like he sacrificed his life saving a little girl from a burning building.

“I’m sorry.” I blow out a breath and glance around the empty cemetery. “I feel like I shouldn’t like someone again already. Like it’s too soon for the mourning period to be over.”

I know it doesn’t actually go like that. We can’t control our hearts—or lust for that matter. But I feel like my will should be stronger.

“You’re always going to be my first everything,” I whisper, staring at the engraved name. “That’s never going to change, Patrick. I promise.”

Even though it’s childish, I’m hoping he’ll respond somehow. Like I’ll feel it in the breeze or hear bells tinkling. But the wind is still again, and the only sound I hear is the traffic of Brooklyn.