Chapter 5

Chapter Five

brONX

"You can wipe that look off your face. You won't be the third wheel tonight."

Bronx jumped half a foot, almost knocking his head into the shower wall. "Dude. Get the fuck out of the bathroom." Luckily, there was a large row of towels along the shower door bar that covered his lower half, but he still slapped a hand over his dick, grimacing when he used too much force.

Dallas cackled. "I didn't see anything. Jesus. Anyway, I'm just saying?—"

"Have I complained even once?" Bronx shouted when Dallas backed away from the door and closed it halfway.

"No, but you look like someone just shoved ginger up your ass and mffpf?—"

Bronx couldn't see what was happening, but he knew Kylen was there, slapping a hand over his brother's mouth. Then, after a beat, he heard his voice. "Sorry about that. As you were!"

The door shut with a firm click, and Bronx rolled his eyes, stepping under the spray. The truth was, he had been a little irritated that he'd once again be tagging along on his brother's date. But it was more than that. Dallas had taken him to Single Dad Club gatherings, hangouts at his friend's bar, and a barbeque in the hot firefighter's backyard.

None of those things were couples events, but he still felt like an outsider. Everyone was kind. Everyone was trying to get to know him. Hell, even Adele had a kid around his son's age, so they could relate on so many things.

But Bronx, somehow, didn't feel like he fit. Square peg, round hole, the way he'd always been. He didn't understand why or how to fix it. And he appreciated the effort everyone was making, but he had a feeling they'd get tired eventually.

Everyone always did. He had work friends. He had neighbors back in Tennessee who he could rely on to house-sit and feed the fish. But when Jules left him, he realized he didn't have anyone besides his brother that he could call to fall apart on.

And he was half-sure it was only because he and Dallas were blood related.

In spite of the fact that Dallas and Ky were bringing along a friend, Bronx still felt like the one tagging along. They'd all have a history together. Inside jokes, shared pasts, plans for the future. How was he supposed to feel like he was part of that?

He scrubbed the last bit of conditioner from his hair, then turned off the water and stepped out. He was going simple tonight—jeans and a button-up. He had no one to impress, and he wanted to save all of his nice clothes for interviewing staff for his new office.

That was slow going too, which was driving him up the wall. There wasn't a glut of veterinarians in the area and very few who specialized in exotic pets the way he did. But he also didn't think there were a bunch of people in the town running around with Fennec foxes or axolotls, so it was very likely he'd be back to cats and dogs.

He didn't mind that so much. He was a big fan of anything fuzzy or fluffy. If he wasn't staying at Dallas's place, he'd probably have a small menagerie by now. Lucas was already bugging him for a cat, and the week before, Bronx had been eyeing a website with rare fish.

God, he was pathetic. What even was his life?

He dressed quickly, then ran the comb through his hair before adding a little gel, then bracing himself for Kylen and Dallas's judgment. He swept into his bedroom to grab his socks and his phone, but just before he started for the door, it buzzed with a message.

His heart sank when he saw the name on the screen.

Jules: What's your lawyer's number?

Don't do it. Don't answer him. He's just trying to get your attention. He just wants to be under your skin. There's nothing you have that he actually wants.

He cracked.

Bronx: It's on all the paperwork.

Jules: I don't have that with me, and I need to send the custody amendment to you.

Bronx did his best not to groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. There's nothing he can do , he reminded himself. Lucas was a year away from becoming a legal adult. No court was going to take him away from Bronx. Not without very good reason .

But that didn't get rid of the fear simmering in the pit of his stomach. Still, he wasn't going to give Jules what he wanted.

Bronx: I'm sure your lawyer can find it. I'm going to block you now. My attorney will contact me if there's anything pressing.

And he made good on his promise before Jules could respond. He saw the three little reply dots moving, but before his ex could hit Send, Bronx pushed the button to cut him off. Relief settled on his shoulders. It wasn't enough to chase away the rush of anxiety, but it was enough that he could gather himself and make his way into the living room.

Dallas was pacing when Bronx sat on the sofa, and he fixed a hard gaze on Bronx. "Jules just called my phone."

Fuck. Bronx had forgotten his ex still had a path of communication. "He's threatening to have custody amended. I just blocked him, and you should too."

Dallas looked furious as he complied, and then he dropped his phone on the table. "Who the fuck does he think he is? He thinks he's going to get any kind of custody after what he did?"

Bronx held up a hand. "Relax. He's doing this to get to me. He doesn't want Lucas, and Lucas is almost a legal adult. The most he can do is drag me back for some pointless hearing."

Dallas still looked pissed. "Do you think he's calling Luke?"

Bronx shrugged, feeling suddenly exhausted. He wanted something—anything—that could take his mind off Jules and their shitshow of a split. He just wanted to forget for a little while, but everywhere he turned, he was faced with it.

There was no escape.

"I think Luke blocked him months ago. Except now he wasn't sure. Now, he was worried that Lucas's entire night was about to be ruined. He needed to cancel this outing and go check on his son. "You know, maybe I should take off and?—"

"No," Dallas cut him off, slashing his hand through the hair. "Absolutely fucking not."

Bronx narrowed his eyes. "You don't know what I was going to say."

"Yes I do. You were going to say you should go to Adele's to warn him, but we both know Luke can handle himself. I was just panicking, and so were you."

That was fair, and he knew it. Lucas wanted nothing to do with Jules, and no one was going to force his hand. But losing his son was his one irrational fear.

"Come out, have one drink, meet Monty," Kylen said quietly, far calmer than Dallas. "He's a really good guy. You'll like him. It'll take your mind off things, and if you're still stressed about it in a little while, then you can go."

Bronx nodded. It was enough of a compromise. Besides, it couldn't hurt to try and make new friends. Not a relationship, but maybe meeting people other than his brother and Kylen would do him some good. He didn't really think this Monty guy was going to be life-changing, but maybe if he could get this right, it would give him the push he needed to branch out.

"Okay. Let's do this," Bronx said softly.

Dallas let out a short breath, then offered his hand. Bronx took a small comfort as their palms met, and he reminded himself that no matter how alone he felt, he had a small team at his back.

Bronx was a short ways behind Kylen and Dallas's car after taking a few moments to call Lucas before he left. His son was annoyed to get a call and even more annoyed that Jules was causing drama. But he confirmed to Bronx that he'd blocked Jules a long time ago and there was nothing to worry about.

"I wouldn't go with him if he paid me. If some judge told me I had to live with him, I'd flee to the French countryside and live in some cottage by a river."

Bronx laughed softly. "And I'd be right there with you. I'm heading out now, but call me if you need me."

"Call me if it's a real emergency," Lucas said, then paused. "I hope you have fun, Dad. I love you."

The words warmed him like no others could. "I love you too. Have fun." He felt better as he hung up and hopped on the road, heading to the spot his brother had picked.

Bronx was familiar with the place. It was the restaurant Lane owned. It was casual fare with a large sports bar area. Bronx appreciated the spot because in the few times he'd visited, it hadn't been very loud. They could carry on conversation wherever they were sitting, and the place had a good vibe.

A lot like Lane, actually. Bronx liked having another person closer to his age in the group. He also appreciated that both Lane and Adele had taken on the dad role so there wasn't some empty space they expected him to fill where they dumped their problems on him to solve. He'd already screwed up his own life enough with bad advice and terrible choices. He didn't want to be responsible for failing anyone else.

Pulling up next to Dallas's car, Bronx got out, smiling at his brother as he attempted to settle his nerves. He didn't want to be the weird hanger-on again, and he was hoping this Monty guy was a relaxed sort of guy. Bronx could not handle someone high-strung right now. His nerves were shot.

"Unclench," Dallas murmured as his stride matched his brother's. "You're not going on trial."

"I hate you," Bronx muttered.

Dallas laughed. "No, you don't."

When they made it inside, Bronx scanned the room, then saw a man near the back wall at a four-top table waving at them. He was so striking it almost took Bronx's breath away. He couldn't gauge how tall the guy was, but he had broad shoulders, neatly trimmed, gently curled dark hair, the hint of a beard, and deep-set eyes that made him feel like the guy could see straight into his soul.

He was dressed casually in a sweater, and he was smiling sweetly as they approached.

"Hey. I hope you weren't waiting long," Dallas said. He leaned down and kissed the guy on the cheek.

Bronx's chest twisted, but then Kylen did the same before taking a seat.

The guy—Monty—grinned at him as Bronx stood there awkwardly. "Don't worry. I don't kiss strangers on the first night we meet." He had a very light but distinct accent—French, if Bronx was guessing correctly. Monty stuck out his hand. "You must be the brother Dallas won't stop talking about."

Bronx found himself blushing, the heat getting worse at the first touch of Monty's very soft, very warm palm. He squeezed his fingers gently and didn't hurry to pull his hand back. Bronx cleared his throat and took the seat beside the man.

"I'm Bronx."

Monty's smile widened. "Yes, the brothers named after cities they've never been to."

"Our mother had big plans she never followed through on," Bronx said dryly.

Dallas burst into laughter. "That's much nicer than the way I explain it. Anyway, Monty, my brother. Favorite brother ever, this is Monty, our new best friend."

Bronx watched as Monty's shoulders hunched for a brief second, almost like he didn't know how to bear the weight of Dallas's words. But he looked happy, wearing a bright smile that reached his eyes.

"I'm glad you came out. It's not the most fun to be with these two. They're still in the disgusting phase."

Bronx burst into laughter. "Tell me about it. They keep inviting me over for dinner, and I've never felt so single in my life." It felt odd to say that, but it was also freeing in ways Bronx never expected.

Every now and again, he felt pangs of loneliness and pain about losing what he thought he'd had with Jules, but they didn't last long. He supposed that said something about how checked out of the marriage he'd been. He just wished he'd realized it before his ex walked away.

"Well, we can sit together and quietly resent them," Monty offered, leaning close to him.

Dallas grinned unapologetically and took Kylen's hand, kissing his knuckles. That was their thing, Bronx noticed. It was something he'd never seen Dallas do before, but he did all the time now.

It was sweet. It was different .

"Anyway, I was thinking—" Dallas stopped and frowned, then pulled his phone out of his pocket. "It's Katie. I should take this."

He stood up and started away, and Monty sighed. "How has it been?"

Kylen shrugged. "Some days are better than others. Not to armchair psych anything, but I think she still hates herself for what she did—especially now that she knows Dallas is ace. And she's struggling to deal with that, so she takes it out on him."

Bronx was pretty sure no one needed a psych degree to figure that out about Dallas's ex-wife. He was pretty sure the reason she didn't like him and Lucas was because she felt threatened by their love and support. Something she had very little of.

"Do you think she's trying to sabotage the night?" Monty asked.

Kylen shrugged. "Probably not. I don't think she knows we're out."

Dallas appeared a second later, his face pale. "She's in the ER with Audra. Something happened to her arm."

Bronx immediately went into big-brother mode. "What did she say? What happened?"

Dallas was gathering his phone and keys off the table. "Ah…ah, that…"

Hopping to his feet, Bronx walked around the chairs and took his brother by the shoulders. "Focus. What happened?"

"They were at this little indoor park thing, and she was playing on the monkey bars. Short ones—for babies," Dallas clarified. "She said Audra started screaming, and she can't move her arm. They're waiting on an X-ray."

Bronx was no stranger to the ER. Raising a blind child meant quite a few more bumps and bruises for quite a lot longer than parents of sighted children. He'd been lucky that Lucas's bigger injuries had come from sports rather than walking into walls or tumbling down stairs, but he remembered the feeling in the pit of his stomach every time he had to rush his kid in.

"Let Kylen drive," Bronx told him. "I'm sure whatever it is, she's fine. And she's in the right place for treatment."

Dallas let out a puff of air. "Right. Yeah."

Kylen was already on his feet, tugging at Dallas's hands so he could take the keys. "Come on, babe. Monty, you want us to drop you off?"

Monty frowned. "What? No. Get to the hospital. I'll call an Uber."

Bronx hadn't realized Dallas was going to be Monty's ride. "I can totally take you home. I took my own car."

Monty's shoulders sagged in relief. "Only if you're sure. I don't want to be a burden."

"You're never a burden. It's just a ride home. Besides, Bronx is a good guy and definitely not a serial killer," Dallas said, his voice tight with barely controlled anxiety.

Bronx turned and gave Dallas a shove toward his boyfriend. "Go." The two of them finally obeyed, and Bronx sank back down into his chair, staring at the weirdly unbalanced table. Should he move? Would that be weird? Would Monty think Bronx didn't want to be next to him?

"You don't have to take me anywhere, you know," Monty said carefully. He twisted his glass in his hands. "I know it's just a ride home, but I'm very used to hiring a car."

"What?" Bronx realized he must look on edge, and he tried to relax his body. "No, that's…no. I'm sorry. I haven't socialized in so long. I'm like one of those friendly feral do gs, you know? Like, I want to make friends, but I don't know how to do it without jumping on people and drooling everywhere."

Monty burst into laughter. "I might protest at being drooled on. That's not my thing."

Bronx slapped a hand over his face. "I'm a vet, so animal metaphors are kind of my thing."

Brows flying up, Monty leaned toward him. "You work with animals?"

"Yeah. I had a practice in Pigeon Forge, and I'm currently trying to set one up here."

Monty licked his lips. "Pigeon Forge…"

"Home of Dolly Parton," Bronx said, letting his accent thicken a little for effect. It made Monty smile, which made his stomach swoop. "And the Smoky Mountains, of course."

"And your crappy ex?"

Bronx snorted and shook his head. "Oh God, no. He ran outta there like his ass was on fire. I'm trying not to pay too close attention to where he's at now."

Monty grimaced. "I'm sorry. I know how rough it can get."

"Divorced?"

"Divorce lawyer," Monty corrected, then shook his head. "That's not entirely right. I'm a family attorney, but divorce tends to come with that. It's never happy circumstances."

Bronx was about to reply when the server appeared, and he had all but forgotten they were there to eat and drink. He flushed and grabbed one of the menus. "Can I just get whatever good lager you have on tap? I'm gonna need a minute with the menu."

The server offered a refill for Monty—he was drinking sparkling water with lime—and then walked away .

"Is it okay that I'm having a beer?"

Monty frowned at him, looking entirely confused. "Of course it is. I've been in the US for a long time, but maybe I missed some faux pas about that?"

"No, just," Bronx floundered. He rubbed his hand down his face and groaned. "Drooling again. Uh, I meant if you're not comfortable drinking, I don't mind skipping the beer."

Monty chuckled and reached across the space between them, setting his warm, soft hand over Bronx's. Fuck, how long had it been since he'd been touched so gently by someone who wasn't related to him? He wanted to turn his hand and link their fingers together, but that would have definitely been weird.

He had been joking about the jumping and the drooling. Mostly.

"I don't drink because I take some medications that don't do well with alcohol. I certainly don't mind if you have a beer."

Bronx blew out a puff of air, trying not to focus solely on how Monty's hand felt against his own. "I haven't, ah…I haven't been out in a long while. Since well before the divorce. I was either working or doing after-school stuff with my son, and?—"

"Lucas," Monty said. When Bronx's eyebrows flew up, Monty pulled his hand back. "Dallas talks about him a lot. His favorite nephew."

Bronx scoffed. "His only nephew, but yeah, Luke would probably be his favorite." He was glad Dallas had mentioned Lucas, only because people usually got weird when they learned his kid couldn't see.

The server appeared a second later to drop off drinks, and Monty began to order, so Bronx pointed at the first thing that caught his eye. Pasta with a cream sauce. Great. He was going to be loaded down with carbs and cheese. His lactose intolerance was not going to thank him in a few hours.

"So," Monty said a beat after the server left, "Kylen says he wants to teach Lucas to fly my plane."

Bronx had the misfortune of taking a sip just as Monty said that, and he nearly met his end on cheap, local lager. He managed to get most of it down, though a bit of it dribbled down his chin and darkened his shirt.

"I'm sorry?" he said when he could breathe again. "He wants to teach my son to fly your plane ? I'm going to assume you're not talking about some drone thing."

Monty looked concerned. "Ah. No. I was…putain, this makes me sound like such a spoiled asshole, but my grandfather left me a plane when he passed. I can't fly it now, thanks to my condition, but Kylen and I met when I hired him as a pilot. He mentioned Lucas wanting to learn, and I thought…" He trailed off, making a pfft sound with his lips. "Chais pas. I assumed you knew about it."

He didn't. Lucas had shown interest in a lot of things, planes being one of them, but he'd never hyperfocused on it. Unless he had , and Bronx was too busy with his head up his own ass to realize it.

Fuck, he felt like such a failure.

Why wouldn't Lucas say something about it? Had he gone behind his back to Dallas and Kylen?

"I'm sorry," Monty said quickly, hugging himself around the middle. "I didn't mean to cause a problem, and I hope Kylen isn't overstepping."

"It's so not you. It's not Kylen's fault either. I feel like…" He swallowed heavily and rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling. "I feel like I've been so wrapped up in my failing ma rriage and my divorce that life went on without me, and I'm just waking up to see the mess left behind."

Monty cocked his head to the side. "That's very normal. You're not a bad person for being overwhelmed by your marriage ending."

"That's just it. I wasn't really overwhelmed by it ending. I was overwhelmed by trying to save this goddamn sinking ship. A ship I didn't even want to be on." His hands were shaking, and he curled them into fists. "Once the shock wore off and I realized Jules was gone for good, I was relieved." He stopped and shook his head. "Sorry. I don't mean to be dumping this on a total stranger."

"If it helps, Dallas has talked about you so much you don't feel like a stranger to me. And," Monty added, even softer this time, "I don't mind listening. You seem like maybe you need it."

God help him, but Bronx did.

For the first time in months, Bronx managed to finish most of his dinner. He felt uncomfortably full, but he also felt good. He didn't trauma-dump all over Monty, even with the offer on the table. Instead, they just talked. Monty told terrible date stories, Bronx told several ridiculous pet stories, and he laughed harder than he had in years.

He felt alive in ways he couldn't really describe in words, and when the bill came, his stomach sank because he didn't want this to be over.

"Let me," Monty said, pulling out his wallet. Bronx made a noise of protest, but Monty leaned forward and pressed a fingertip to his lips. It lingered as their eyes met, and Bronx knew without a doubt that this wasn't just an absentminded gesture. "Let me."

Bronx nodded and let out a soft sigh when Monty dragged his hand back. He didn't break eye contact as he pulled his card out and set it in the little billfold. Bronx licked his lips, then swallowed, and Monty tracked his throat with his gaze.

"I don't live far," Monty said after the server swept the payment away. "And I live alone. I wouldn't mind some company tonight."

Bronx's cheeks heated. Lucas wouldn't be home, and there was little to no chance that Dallas and Kylen would show up at his place. But there was always a risk, especially now that he knew what Monty was offering.

"It's been a while for me," he murmured.

Monty nodded. "I know." Bronx's cheeks erupted with color, and Monty burst into a fit of giggles. "Oh, mon ange, I don't mean that because it's obvious."

"God, it is though, isn't it?"

"If I didn't know about your history, I'd just say you were adorably awkward. But I don't want you to say yes if you're not ready. And it's important you know right away that I'm not looking for a relationship."

Bronx wasn't either. As much as it would have been amazing to fall for someone like Monty, who was genuinely kind and attentive, he needed to figure himself out—who he was and what he actually wanted—before giving himself to someone new. If he was ever going to feel brave enough for that.

He wanted to be okay with that never happening. He wanted to know he could happily thrive alone for the rest of his life .

"Don't worry. I'm not in a place for anything more than just…"

"A night?" Monty offered with a sly grin. "And maybe a good morning."

"Or a few mornings. No strings," Bronx said very softly.

Monty's eyes darkened. "That sounds perfect. I can't wait to get my hands on you."

Bronx flushed hard, but not in his face. His cock thickened with the rush of blood heading south. "Careful, or this'll all be over before we can get started. I'm not young anymore."

"You're also not old. I have faith we can take our time," Monty said. "And I definitely want to take my time."

Shit. He was in big, big trouble. But in the very best way.