Chapter Nineteen

"Oh, man." I rubbed my stomach, my jeans feeling decidedly tight around my middle. "That was a fantastic meal. Thank your aunt again for me."

Ricky laughed as we meandered across Sofia's front yard toward my house, him with a plate holding half the tres leches cake and me with Gil in his carrier and a bag of Sofia's homemade cat treats in my pocket

"You thanked her yourself. More times than I can count."

"Well, one more wouldn't hurt. Especially since she's watching Gil for me again tomorrow." I glanced at him sidelong. "So. I've gotta ask."

"Yeah?" Ricky raised his eyebrows as he drew out the word.

"What's the deal with Guillermo? Liam? Whatever the heck his name is?"

This time, Ricky's laugh held an edge of relief, and I wondered for a moment what he was afraid I was going to ask. "The guy's a total tool. That's the deal. But Tia thinks he walks on water, which might be the only thing the two of them have in common."

"Wow, Ricky," I said, deadpan. "Harsh."

"True, though." He sighed. "I'd like to say he was better when he was a kid, but not really. Only child of Tia's only son, who married the boss's daughter when he was working his way up the corporate ladder."

I blinked at him. "Ghost has a corporation big enough to have a ladder?"

"The corporation—or at least its branch—was in Richdale."

"Was?"

"Yeah, it closed down when we were in high school, right about the time Tio Lorenzo Type-A'd himself into an early heart attack."

I winced. "I'm sorry."

Ricky managed to wave my words away while keeping the cake perfectly balanced. "It was a while ago, and we didn't see him much after he took over the business from his father-in-law. Although to give him credit, he used to make sure Liam stayed with Tia Sofia every summer for at least a month, so we got to know him even before we all got shipped to Richdale for school." He smiled a little crookedly. "He pretty much ignored us even then, holed up in his room and playing video games, except when Tia gave him the choice of working in her garden with her or hanging out with us. He never had much use for any of us even then, except maybe for Carson eventually."

"Ah. That was something else I wanted to ask you about." I slowed to a stop halfway across my lawn. "I met Carson for coffee at Isaksen's today."

Ricky grimaced. "Ouch."

"Yeah, I kinda got that there might be some drama there."

"You could say so. Carson and Jae-Seong were sort of going out in high school—or at least approaching the tipping point—but it fizzled once Carson and Liam formed their Young Assholes of America bond." He sighed again. "Although it would have fizzled, anyway. The rest of us could see the writing on the wall, but Haley made the mistake of telling Jae-Seong that, which made him dig in his heels and hold on a lot longer than I think even he wanted. It, ah, got a little messy."

I thought back to what Carson had told me about Avi. Since Ricky seemed to be in a mood to share, I decided to push a little more.

"Do you think Carson's behavior might have been the result of… other pressures? Issues of self-confidence, maybe? Or safety?"

Ricky turned to face me fully, eyes narrowing. "Let me guess. He told you that Avi was mean to him, right?"

The handle of Gil's carrier was cutting into my palm because I was gripping it so hard, so I set it on the grass. "Actually, he implied it was beyond just being mean. More like emotional abuse."

He shook his head. "Impossible. Look, his mom and Carson's were sisters. Close. Spent a lot of time together. But Avi was a decade older than us and an introvert to boot, so when the families got together, Carson would have been by himself if he wasn't hanging out with me, Haley, Taryn, and Jae-Seong. Think about it. There's a huge difference between six and sixteen or even thirteen and twenty-three. Those divides don't start leveling out until everyone's at least a technical adult."

"That's fair, I guess." I picked up Gil's carrier again, and we ambled to the porch, mounting the steps slowly. "Is there some reason Carson would blame Avi for destroying his dreams?"

"Dreams? Carson?" Ricky barked a laugh as he set the cake on the porch railing. I nearly lunged for it, but he stopped me with a touch on my chest. "Don't worry. The rail cap is wide. The plate won't fall."

"Sorry. It's just really good cake."

"It is." He nodded toward the porch swing. "I won't ask to come in, since I know you're tired. But will you sit for a moment? I think we should finish this conversation."

"Okay," I croaked, wondering where my breath had disappeared to. I set Gil's carrier on the porch, but misjudged the distance to the ground for some reason. He protested the resulting thump with a yowl. "Sorry, boy." I settled onto the swing next to Ricky.

It wasn't that wide.

My hip brushed his, our knees knocked together, his shoulder was warm against mine. He didn't apologize. Neither did I. I studied his profile as he gnawed on his lower lip, gazing into the dark.

Finally, he shot me an apologetic smile. "Didn't mean to get all pensive. I was just wondering how to put this. Everyone has their own…" He gestured, his hands sketching a circle in the air. "I don't know… world view? Carson's pretty firmly at the center of his."

"Aren't we all? At least to some extent?"

He shrugged. "I suppose. And Carson isn't quite as self-centered as Liam. But he grants more importance to tangible objects and possessions, maybe because his dad had a tendency to make regular sweeps of their house and donate everything he didn't think was necessary anymore. He… latches on to things. Assigns them relative value. And naturally assigns his own interests more value than anyone else's."

"Is that why he expected Taryn to provide legal services for free?"

He chuckled. "That came up at the bakery, huh? I'm not surprised. If Haley and Carson are in the same space for more than ten minutes, it's bound to."

"Taryn was there at first, too."

"Ooh. Double whammy."

I frowned, tilting my head. "Interestingly enough, he didn't expect to get his coffee for free."

Ricky widened his eyes and gave me a faux-shock expression. "But that's coffee ."

"So coffee has more value than legal services?"

"In Carson's mind, yes. Because coffee is a physical thing, composed of other physical things. Commodities like beans and water and cups that cost the bakery to deliver. In his mind, it's a fair trade to pay for that. But Taryn's legal advice doesn't cost her anything to provide."

"Other than her time and expertise," I said dryly.

He waggled a finger. "Time and expertise have no inventory. Besides, haven't you heard? Talk is cheap."

"Depends on who's talking. There are some people I'd pay not to listen to." I leaned back, the swing's slats cradling my spine. "But as somebody who makes his living with words, I take exception to them not having the same value as bacon or orange juice or… or coffee just because you can't hold them in your hands. Besides, isn't Carson a real estate agent? He literally gets paid for his time."

"I don't think that's how he sees it. He's getting paid for the house , which you have to admit is pretty dang physical."

"I suppose."

"Maz." Ricky's voice was a little hoarse when he said my name, which did interesting things to my insides. He cleared his throat. "I know you don't know me well. You don't really know anyone in town yet, although you probably know more about them now."

I winced. "Sorry. Was I being nosy? Occupational hazard. I'm hard-wired for research."

"Not a problem." His face was so close. I could see the gleam in his dark eyes by the glow of the porch light. "But since I've answered your questions, could you tell me one thing?"

"S-sure." So close . Was he going to ask if he could kiss me? Should I ask if I could kiss him ? We were both thirty-year-old gay men. Approximately. Surely this shouldn't be so awkward. But consent was a thing. "Ask away."

"Why are you afraid to leave your cat alone in your house?"