7. The Ellen’s, Beau

We opted for dinner at a local Birmingham spot: Ellen's. Named the best burger joint by the local Birmingham newspaper, three years running. We chose to sit on the covered porch, the nearby standing heaters mitigated the slight chill in the air.

I was far past the idea of everyone automatically knowing I was gay because Dash was there with me. My current assessment of the evening landed somewhere between relaxing and easygoing. The chatter between the four of us flowed effortlessly. Dash was the perfect gentleman, just as I'd always known him to be.

He sat next to me in the booth, leaving just enough space between us that I suspected we looked like friends. His half-eaten burger, no onion, no cheese with French fries on the side, all served in a red plastic basket, hadn't budged from the place the waitress had served it.

Manners were natural for him. The expanded paper napkin in his lap looked nothing like mine, which was crumpled on top of my basket I'd shoved to the center of the table. I'd gone at my food like I was on a survival mission and hadn't eaten in a week. It took about a minute for me to figure out Dash was done before I finished his burger and ate the remaining French fries out of his basket.

A jukebox serenaded us with some older country tunes. The kind that made you cry if you listened too closely. Scott had made such progress on the house that we'd had free time this evening.

We hit up the game place next door before dinner. We played Putt-Putt, rode the go-karts, hit some balls in the batting cages, and spent way too much money in the arcades. I was admittedly rusty at anything more than playing football but still managed to beat Scott in two of the four competitions. The loss that hurt the most was Ninja Assault . He beat me soundly, officially becoming my former best friend.

My cheeks were sore from all the grinning I'd done tonight. The rivalry between Scott and me came back with a driving force. My old man barely had one foot in the grave, but man, the oppression he'd caused was lifting at lightning speed.

The unexpected thought of my father had a dark vengeance creeping around the edges of my heart, my fingers clenched into a fist. My deep cleansing breaths drew Dash's attention. I ignored his questioning glance and did my best to tamp down the anger threatening to overwhelm me.

My father had no place in my happiness.

Dash did though. He'd been spectacular today. A mix of kindness, wisdom, and a scent that made me want to cannonball into my commitment to him. Even his sweat-soaked labor, weeding flower beds, hauling every bit of junk to the curb, and cleaning out the garage, had a magnetic charm. In mere hours, my mom and Scott had fallen under Dash's spell too.

My head was a total roller coaster of chaos tonight. I tried to refocus my attention on the conversation at the table.

But how? With Dash beside me, I swore I could feel his heartbeat in sync with mine. Maybe it was because I squeezed my big body into the booth, claiming more than my fair share of space. I had one arm casually draped over the booth's back, the other rested on the low partition wall separating the booths.

"You're quiet over there. Does that mean you agree?" Thankfully, my mom's question snapped me back to reality. I raised an eyebrow, needing more information. Her grin widened. The stress of the past was lifting off her too, and I liked seeing that.

"I said, we've planned to leave around five in the morning to allow time to unload at my house, clean up, and be at the attorney's office by ten. You and Dash are staying with me, just in case there was any question."

"I offered to get a hotel room, but she insisted we take her second bedroom," Dash added, his face asking the question that his words didn't. Did he think I actually had a say?

Three pairs of eyes fixed on me. I shrugged and said, "Okay."

"Dash, Beau drifts off while you're talkin' to him all the time," Scott said with sarcasm, flicking a lettuce scrap at me. It didn't go far before falling to the table.

"I feel like he knows that by now, ass. But thanks for lookin' out for him," I added dryly. My mom's contagious laugh had me shooting her a wink. She clearly enjoyed the banter.

"Do you want me there at your meeting with the attorney?" Dash chimed in. "I can review anything you need me to."

"Probably a good idea. Everything played out so bizarre in the end." I kept my eyes locked on my mom, waiting for her approval. "It seems straightforward. The only will found pre-dates the divorce. My mom's the main beneficiary, but he gave me half. What I get goes to my mom."

Her smile, a good mix of sugar and sweet, made me happy. "You need to keep your money, honey. You earned every cent dealing with all that drama."

That wasn't an option. Her debt levels were too high due to the legal costs she'd paid while fighting to get me back. I shook my head, turning to Dash for backup, only to find him smiling at me with the same gooey sentiment as my mom.

"What?" I asked.

His hand landed on my thigh with a brief caress and gentle squeeze. He didn't let it linger. It meant a lot that he tried to respect my boundaries.

"You're giving everything to your mom?" Dash restated what I just said.

"Yeah, I just said that. It can't be the first you've heard about it." My furrowed brow had to show my confusion. "She lost her ability to work in Mobile County. She had to take low paying jobs and work all day and night every day to pay for all the bullshit legal fees that just kept comin'. She took care of my grandmother until she died. Her car's fifteen years old, she rents, and needs a retirement fund."

"He's a good dude," Scott said directly to Dash. "He's changed but it's still there."

"Stop it," I said, feeling a flush rising in my cheeks.

"None of my siblings would trade their inheritance to help either of my parents. They're like buzzards circling, waiting for the end."

I didn't doubt that for a second which made Dash and his desire to be self-supporting more special. The tip of my thumb lifted on its own accord, caressing a small swipe over Dash's sweatshirt. I didn't even consider doing it. But between the two of us, he was by far the better human being.

"Wait, your family has money?" Scott asked.

Dash ping-ponged his gaze between my mom and me, clearly in need of a lifeline. I saved him from his confusion.

"Remember when that hotel moved into Sea Springs?"

Scott nodded but with the way his eyes narrowed, I wasn't sure he remembered.

"His dad owns it and a lot of other things in Texas. I believe he got started in oil?"

Dash nodded, shaking his hand in a "sort of, kind of" way.

"Oh man, that totally clicks." Scott's palm landed on the table with a whack, his smile spreading wider.

"Meaning?" Dash replied. Scott's words hit a nerve. It seemed Dash still tried to pretend he was an average guy.

"I think he means how you present yourself," I answered, cocking my head to better see Dash.

"How do I present? I'm fitting in," he said, lifting both his hands as if he looked the same as the rest of us. All three of us burst out laughing at his absurdity and absolute cluelessness. Dash shot out an elbow, jabbing me in the ribs. "I blend in fine. We're dressed the same, eating the same food. I would have had a cocktail but I'm not sure how Beau feels about it."

Scott's loud bark of laughter couldn't be contained. He drew everyone's attention around us. "Who says cocktail around here? We're country folk."

"You guys, good?" the waitress asked.

"Ever hear the word cocktail around here?" Scott asked.

"Not that often," she said, unsure of her response. She scanned each of our faces, looking for the landmine she'd somehow stepped in. "But yeah, so you play football for Samford, right?" she asked, her eyes landing on me while gathering the baskets from each of us. "You're the one everyone goes nuts for."

As the spotlight shifted to me, my mom knew the drill and grabbed her purse, starting out of the booth. Scott followed. "Used to. I gotta get a job now. It's a family thing."

Dash got my pointed stare. He needed to hustle out of the booth, but he didn't budge.

"Man, everybody's gonna be disappointed." She cast a long glance over her shoulder to the guys sitting at the bar.

Something went down in that exchange, further signaling our cue to roll out of there before I got swarmed with questions. I'd be offered jobs and cash on the side to stay.

"Well, have a good night," she said.

My mom placed tip money on the table. We'd paid for our food up front when ordering. Dash just needed to get hustling.

"I'm about to have an onslaught of people comin' to talk football with me. We need to go." I gave him a solid hip bump. If he fell to the floor, I'd toss him over my shoulder and get the hell out of there. "We'll get trapped."

"Where're your mom and Scott?" Dash asked. A snail moved faster than him. He checked his clothes, shook out his jeans, completely unhurried. From my peripherals, I caught the waitress with the guys. Gasps ensued.

I grabbed Dash by the elbow, pulling him out the front doors with me. We were loading in my mom's car in seconds flat. I swear the entire restaurant watched us leave.

"I have plenty of space over here. It's gotta be more comfortable than that cot," Dash suggested. His hand patted the fancy air mattress I'd splurged on at Lowes today.

"I'm fine," I lied. Anything had to be more restful than this old army cot.

"Clearly not," Dash pointed out. The mattress didn't make a single noise as he lifted, propping himself up on an elbow. "Your legs are dangling off the end. Your arms would too if they weren't crossed over your chest."

"Go to sleep. We gotta get up early." I understood I was being difficult for no reason. It was just where my head was right then.

"You've been awake for the majority of the last thirty hours. You're not falling asleep because you're uncomfortable. Hop on the air mattress." Dash scooted to the farthest side. "Well, don't hop or I'll go flying, but get down here. I'll keep my distance, but the fact you don't want inside this bed with me concludes that you may not want me to keep a distance, and it scares you. Don't be afraid. You'll sleep better here." He patted the bed again annoyingly.

He wasn't wrong, but when the desire floodgates finally burst, it wasn't going to end well for either of us. Well, it would end good. Great actually…just not here.

But his words still had merit. I rolled onto the mattress pressed directly up against the cot. I grabbed my pillow, tucked it under my head, and Dash covered my body with blankets. He faced me, a hand tucked underneath his pillow. We were maybe a foot apart.

"I rented us a car in Mobile. They'll deliver it once we get to your mom's place." Although he whispered, it wasn't quite the right bedtime conversation to lull me under.

"She said we could use her car," I said, trying to understand how a rental car might be delivered like that.

"It'll make it easier if we have a car. I could also get a hotel room."

"You'll hurt my mom's feelin's. She's excited you're here." Dash eyed me, probably trying to decide how much truth was in my words.

"I'll give in on the hotel room if you agree to sleep in the spare bedroom with me. It seems too disruptive for you to take the living room while I have the entire bedroom to myself. I haven't seen her couch, but I know you're too big for it. You won't be comfortable."

"I'll be fine," I murmured, happy for the chance to stare openly at him. Other than the side of his face being distorted by being smushed into the pillow, I enjoyed the scenery.

"We're full circle. And you won't be fine," Dash countered. "You take the bed. I'll sleep on this air mattress." We'd been quiet, talking at a whisper or little above, but that sweet guy caused me to burst out with an involuntary bark of laughter. He brought his hand to my mouth, shushing me. His gaze flitted to the hall where Scott had taken one of the two bedrooms, then down the other direction where my mom had taken the second bedroom. "Stop laughing. I mean it. I'll sleep on the air mattress."

"No, you won't. It's a ploy to get me in there with you."

He pulled his hand from my mouth, and I got a critical stare.

"Pretty full of yourself, aren't you?" Dash gave up the pretense of staying away and inched closer. "Besides, you gave me ninety days." His gaze dropped to my lips. "It's not going to happen for us if we don't share space."

He wasn't wrong, and it wasn't taking ninety days. More like one day. I draped my arm around his waist, wanting the kiss he hinted at more than I wanted anything else, but he was right, I was tired and needed sleep.

"A small goodnight kiss," Dash urged.

I met him halfway. A hair's breadth apart, I whispered, "Thank you for today."

"You're welcome." His breath coated my face, driving me forward to capture his lips with mine. He tasted so damn good, making my dreams into reality once again.

Dash honored his word and kept the kiss small. As he pulled away, his warm palm came to my cheek. His skilled thumb swept over my jaw. "Sleep, big guy. Tomorrow's coming."

I fell asleep with the taste of Dash on my lips.