Chapter Six

Abe

S low to anger, slow to rise . That was my mantra. I didn't like to lose my temper, and I really resented early mornings. The idea of waking up in Lio's arms was enough to change my opinion about the latter, but opening my eyes to find him missing put the former in jeopardy as well. For fuck's sake, it was still dark outside, and his side of the bed was cold. He hadn't made a quick trip to the bathroom. Hell, had he even been there? Had kissing and cuddling with Lio been nothing more than a dream?

I turned on the lamp and saw the indent in his pillow. I lifted it to my nose and inhaled deeply. Lio had definitely slept beside me. I'd recognize the scent of his shampoo anywhere. Then I spotted his overnight bag on the chair in the corner of the room. My disappointment ebbed about the same time I smelled bacon frying. Breakfast was a consolation prize I'd gladly accept, though I'd prefer to share it in bed with Lio. Hushed voices coming from the other side of the cabin cast serious doubt it would happen. I reluctantly rolled out of bed and put on a pair of jeans, a thermal shirt, some socks, and my flannel from the previous day. After stopping at the bathroom to brush my teeth and relieve myself, I padded down the hallway to see who else was up.

Lio and Allen stood in the kitchen, talking quietly and working together to make breakfast. Jeremy was nowhere in sight, so he was either sleeping in the guest room or had left. I leaned against the archway and observed Lio turning strips of bacon in Lucinda's large cast-iron skillet while Allen whisked eggs in a bowl. A pot of coffee brewed on the counter next to the sink. Lio and Allen were dressed similarly in sweats, long tees, and running shoes. The backs of their shirts looked damp, so I figured they'd gone out for an early morning run. I wished Lio had woken me, but I understood why he hadn't. Slow to rise and all that.

"Abe likes peppers, onions, and cheddar cheese in his eggs," Lio said. He was always looking out for me in big and small ways, and it stirred warmth in my gut.

"Sounds great to me," Allen said.

"I diced extra last night when I made chili." Lio set the metal tongs on the stove and turned toward the refrigerator. That's when he spotted me leaning against the wall. A slow smile spread across his face. "Creeper," he teased. "How long have you been standing there?"

I straightened and strode across the kitchen to reach him, then cupped the back of Lio's neck and kissed him. The embrace was short and chaste but necessary as if I needed to prove I could kiss him anytime I wanted.

"Good morning," Lio said.

"It could've been a great morning if you hadn't gotten up so early."

"Um, hello," Allen said. "You're not the only two people in the room."

Lio and I exchanged smiles before I faced our friend. "Good morning to you too, Allen."

"Good morning," he replied cheerfully. His approach to early mornings was drastically different from mine. "Peppers, onions, and cheese," Allen said to Lio.

"Coming right up."

I reluctantly released Lio and retrieved four coffee mugs from the cabinet, setting them next to the pot. Allen whistled as he and Lio continued making breakfast. I eyed the coffee, knowing I'd need a full pot to myself.

Lio nudged me with his elbow. "Go ahead and make a cup. Mornings aren't your strong suit." I didn't dispute his assertion or decline his suggestion, but I did pour mugs of black coffee for them too.

"You've got toast duty," Allen told me.

"French or regular?" I asked.

Lio and Allen looked at each other, and I could practically hear their gears turning.

"Doubtful you have vanilla, cinnamon, and syrup here, and I didn't think to buy them," Lio said.

I looked through the cabinets and found a bottle of vanilla extract. There was no telling how long it had been there, but a quick whiff of its contents ended the debate. I tossed the bottle into the trash and plopped four pieces of bread into the toaster. I buttered those when they popped, put four more pieces in, and pushed the lever down.

Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall, signaling Jeremy was still there and zombie-shuffling toward the smell of food. I couldn't help but tense a little, but I plastered a smile on my face when I turned to greet him. Jeremy wore a tank top and a pair of sweats, emphasizing his lean physique.

"Damn, dude," Allen said. "You are ripped."

Jeremy scratched his fingers over his chest and smiled over at Allen. "Thanks. It feels good to be physically healthy again."

"Time to eat," Lio announced.

The toaster ejected the last four slices of bread as if on cue. I buttered them quickly and carried the pile over to the table, passing out toast on the plates like I was dealing cards. None of us had much to say, not even Allen, which made me think he'd consumed way too much alcohol.

"When can we expect your miscreant family to arrive?" Allen asked once we'd finished breakfast.

"I told them to arrive at noon," I said, "so they'll probably be here around two just to spite me."

My dad, uncle, and cousins didn't show up until around two thirty. Most of them were already smashed, and the others were well on their way to inebriated. I hadn't talked to any of them in over five years and noted that rough living had not been kind to them.

My father, Amstel, looked around the room with a disapproving scowl. He turned to his brother, Vernon, and said, "I thought you said queers were good at decorating. This place looks the same as it did ten years ago."

Vernon threw his head back and laughed. Then he slapped Amstel on the chest and said, "I guess not this queer."

Lio emitted a low growl and stepped forward, but I hooked my finger in his belt loop to keep him beside me. "A fight is what they want. Don't give it to them."

"You should heed his advice," Amstel said. "You don't want to get hurt."

"I'd gladly take my chances," Lio snarled.

"And if you take him on, you'll take us on too," Jeremy said as he and Allen joined the fray.

Vernon narrowed his eyes and studied the four of us. He wasn't as drunk as Amstel, so he wisely assessed the outcome of a fight with four men who were much younger and in better shape, and he made the right decision. Red, my oldest cousin, whose real name was Darrell, staggered over and bumped into his father.

"Isa problem here?" he slurred.

Vernon waved a hand in front of his face. "Yeah, your breath. Go sit down and let the men do the talking."

Red hiccupped loudly and bumped into his middle brother, Merrill. "Daddy wants us to go sit down." He attempted to whistle for my youngest cousin, Bobby, but spewed spittle onto Merrill instead.

"Fucking three stooges," Amstel snarled as he watched them walk over to the sofa. Once they sat down, he turned his ire on me. "I'm not going to stand for you taking my inheritance. I've found a lawyer who will help me attest the will."

"Contest," I corrected. "Attest means to verify."

Eyes as blue as mine narrowed to mere slits. "Don't you get smart with me, you arrogant little asshole. I'll have the last word when I prove you manipulated my parents and turned them against me."

I took a few steps forward, showing Amstel that nothing about him intimidated me. "Moving in with Earl and Lucinda wasn't my choice. Billie Jo abandoned me, and you went to jail," I reminded him.

I'd been bitter and resentful after the social worker had left me with my grandparents. They had rules and expectations about me going to school, doing my homework, minding my manners, and doing chores. It had felt like an oppressive snare around my neck until I started thriving under their structure and relentless love. Maybe they were stricter than they needed to be sometimes, but considering how their sons had turned out and the path I'd been on, I understood and appreciated their effort.

"And where the hell were you when your elderly parents needed help?" I asked, my gaze volleying back and forth between my pathetic excuse for a father and his loser brother. "You weren't the ones taking care of things at the cabin or shuttling them to their doctor visits. You weren't around to help Earl through his grief when Lucinda passed away, and I sure didn't see you opening your wallet when it came time to pay for his nursing home care." I patted my chest angrily and said, "I took care of them—physically, emotionally, and financially—because that's what family does. You don't know the meaning of family. You ran my mother off and turned your back on your parents and only son. Yet here you are with your hands out, expecting to reap the benefits of Earl's and Lucinda's hard work. I invited you here today, hoping you'd find an ounce of decency to honor your father, but surprise, surprise. You let me down again."

Amstel crossed his arms over his chest. "Are you finished now? You sound like a sniveling little brat." He pressed his fists to the corners of his eyes and rocked them; a mocking pout puckered his lips. "Poor little Abraham. Nobody loved him."

Lio snarled and stepped forward again, but I held my hand out to stop him. He was getting enough bad press from the Eads incident and didn't need to add a brawl with roughnecks to the mix. Amstel and Vernon would have a heyday with the media.

"Still getting everyone to fight your battles for you, I see," Amstel said, disgust turning his eyes a darker shade of blue. "You would've benefited from living in my household, especially as a teenager. I tried to get you back when I got out of jail." The revelation was news to me, but it was probably a lie and didn't matter, even if he was telling the truth. "I showed up at one of your high school football games to support my son, the big star quarterback everyone was talking about, but I guess you don't remember snubbing me when I tried to talk to you before the game."

"Oh, I remember you drunk as a skunk yelling across the practice field while we warmed up."

"The damn coach wouldn't let me talk to you," Amstel said. "Ran me off and threatened to call the sheriff if I didn't leave you alone."

"I told him I didn't want to see or talk to you."

Amstel snorted. "Some star quarterback you turned out to be. How often did you get picked off by that Mexican safety? Three?"

"It was four," Lio said dryly. "Most I had in one game."

"Wait, you're the Mexican?" Amstel asked.

Lio pinned my father with a dark glare. "My family emigrated from the Baroque region of Spain, but I'm a fourth-generation American." Lio didn't care what Amstel thought. He just liked being the most intelligent man in the room, and I loved that about him. Lio looked over at me again and smiled. "I remember the game well."

That game had marked a significant shift in our heated rivalry but not for the reason anyone would guess. We'd managed to keep the game close, mainly because our defense had prevented Lio's team from capitalizing on his interceptions, and I'd somehow extracted my head from my ass in the fourth quarter. We lost to Lio's team by a field goal in overtime, and I was utterly dejected when I left the field. Amstel had gotten drunker and louder as the game had gone on. Things must've been different back then because I'd arrested people for similar stunts. Amstel had stood at the track fence, booing and jeering me.

My head coach had placed a comforting hand on my shoulder as he escorted me to the locker room. He'd told me to wait for him before heading out to my truck, but he'd gotten tied up with other players, and I didn't expect Amstel to stick around. Leaving was what he did best. But he was all too happy to tell me how much I sucked.

"You think you're so much better than me?" he'd asked, his breath reeking of cheap booze. "Is that it?"

"I know I am," I'd replied.

Amstel had slapped my face, and before I could respond, Lio stepped between us, shoving my father back and shouting at him. My coach heard the commotion and ran out of the locker room, getting between Lio and my dad. I didn't hear what they discussed because Lio grabbed my arm and tugged me around the side of the building. I'd leaned my head against the wall and closed my eyes, willing myself not to cry.

"Hey," Lio had said softly. "No one's around. Let it out."

I'd opened my eyes and stared down at him. His kind expression was my undoing, and I let go. Scalding tears streamed down my face as I struggled to catch my breath. Lio hugged me then, shocking us both, and held on until I calmed down. I'd angrily wiped away the moisture from my face and said, "This doesn't make us friends. It's just a temporary cease-fire."

Lio's lips trembled as if he were fighting off a smile, and for the first time in my life, I'd wanted to kiss a boy. The realization had left me breathless until Lio spoke again. "Of course not," he'd solemnly replied as he dropped his arms and stepped back. "I'll see you again during basketball season."

"Not if I see you first," I'd yelled at his retreating back. Lio had laughed and waved while I'd mentally kicked myself in the ass for being so lame. By the time I'd rounded the corner with a wittier comeback, Amstel was gone, and Lio had rejoined his teammates, who were heading toward their bus.

"I bet you're not stupid enough to taunt your son now, though, are you?" Lio asked. During my trip down memory lane, he'd stepped forward and engaged my dad. "He's got five inches and about seventy pounds of muscle on you. Better yet, go ahead and poke the bear. You deserve the ass kicking you've got coming to you."

"You're a cocky little fucker, aren't you?" Amstel said.

"Sounds to me like the chief is as dirty as that detective claims," Vernon said, then spat tobacco juice at Lio's feet. Rage arced through me at seeing the brown glob on the oak boards Earl had painstakingly maintained and Lucinda had kept polished to a shine.

"Told you he was crooked, Daddy," Red said, stepping up beside Vernon. "He's the one who busted me for possession years ago. Pulled me over for a supposed busted taillight and planted the crack in my car when he searched it."

"Likely story, Red," I said. "What about the other fifteen times you've been arrested for drug-related offenses? Is every cop in every county and jurisdiction the problem, or are you an addict who refuses to get help?"

Red ignored me and lasered in on Lio as well as his blown pupils allowed. "We'll see what the public thinks when I tell my story to the press." His lips made a cruel snarl, and he formed his thumb and forefinger into a gun. "You'll get what you've got coming to you." Red shifted his gaze to me. "Both of you will." Merrill and Bobby stepped up beside Red, and I could tell they were spoiling for a fight.

"Get the fuck out of my cabin." My voice was calm, deathly so. They could threaten me all they wanted, but no one fucked with Lio. "Earl had told me not to waste good intentions on any of you, and I should've listened."

Jeremy stepped up beside Lio, and Allen moved up beside me. The fearsome foursome rides again.

"You heard the man," Jeremy said.

Allen tilted his head to the left and right, stretching his neck muscles. "We can do this the easy way or the fun way, fellas. The easy way is you turning around and walking back out the cabin door. The fun way includes us kicking your asses and dragging you over the threshold by your hair. What's it going to be?"

"We can take them," Bobby said.

Allen rubbed his hands together in gleeful anticipation. "I'm pretty sure Earl would approve of the can of whoop ass I'm going to open up on these chumps."

I laughed despite the thick tension filling the air. "Yeah, probably so."

Amstel turned out to be the surprising voice of reason. "Come on, boys," he said. "We'll go honor the old coot at the tavern."

We held our positions until my miserable family filed out of the house. Allen slapped my shoulder and said, "I've got even more respect for Earl now."

We spent the next few hours toasting my grandfather. The guys let me recount my favorite stories, and they chimed in with theirs too. This was the kind of sendoff Earl would've wanted, and my mood lightened as the sunlight waned and the drinks flowed. That is until Jeremy sat beside me on the couch while Allen and Lio argued about pizza toppings in the kitchen. Lio had found a pizza place that delivered, which was good because we'd all had too much to drink, and no one wanted to cook.

Jeremy pulled on his beer bottle's label for a few minutes. I couldn't tell if he was searching for something to say or waiting for me to take the initiative. He finally lifted his head and pinned me with his dark gaze. "How long have you and Lio been a thing?"

"I think we've been building toward this since we were twelve," I replied honestly. "I'm sorry if that bothers you, but you asked a question, and I gave you an honest answer. It's always been Lio for me. I just didn't always realize it." Jeremy continued staring at the fireplace, and I inhaled deeply. "I'm also sorry if I hurt you back when we fooled around."

Jeremy met my gaze once more. "You ghosted me, Abe. I thought we could've had something special, and even if you didn't feel the same, I thought we were at least good friends."

"We are friends, though if I haven't acted like it"—I ran a hand through my hair—"I'm genuinely sorry. Someone recently pointed out my terrible track record for reacting badly when relationships get sticky. I guess my bad habit applies to friendships too. I feel horrible that I've let you down and haven't been there for you." I placed a hand on his shoulder and felt tension ease from his body. "I promise to do better, okay?"

Jeremy held my gaze for a few moments, then nodded. "Okay."

"Yo, Abe," Allen called out. "Anchovies or not?"

"Hell no," Jeremy and I both said simultaneously. We smiled at one another, and I felt like we might genuinely be okay.

We ordered three different pizzas so Allen could get his stinky fish and Jeremy could do a gluten-free, veggie pizza. Lio and I put every topping but anchovies on ours and devoured every slice. The cards came back out and the alcohol kept flowing. Lio and I stumbled to my bedroom later.

"This is going to hurt in the morning," Lio said once we stumbled into our bedroom hours later.

I nuzzled my nose along the side of his neck. "Why'd you let me drink so much?"

Lio laughed and pushed me away so he could slide between the sheets. "Why'd you let me drink so much?"

I slid in bed after Lio and spooned around him. "I love you, Lio. You're the best thing to ever happen to me." There was so much I still needed to say, but that was a good start. I expected Lio to return a similar sentiment. Alex was the very best thing to happen to him, but surely I was firmly in the number two slot. "Lio?"

A short, abrupt snore burst from the man in my arms, a sound so undignified it would've embarrassed him, but I wasn't upset he'd fallen asleep during my heartfelt declaration. I knew the truth. That didn't mean I wouldn't get it out of him the following day.