Chapter 11

Cody was bouncing around my apartment while I played his favorite song from the movie Encanto. My almost-four-year-old nephew was excited because I'd told him my friend was coming over and we were going to sing songs together. I'd told Miguel to just let himself in when he got here because it was likely I wouldn't hear him if he knocked.

We were going into the third repeat when I heard a familiar voice join us. Cody stopped in his tracks and stared at Miguel, who was still standing by the door. He was carrying a bag, which probably contained the snacks he'd threatened to bring.

"Hey, Cody," Miguel said.

I went over to my nephew and put my hand on his shoulder. "Cody, this is my friend. Do you remember the name I told you?"

Cody scrunched up his cute little nose in concentration. Then he opened his eyes wide and said, "Miguel!"

"That's right," Miguel said with a smile. He leaned down and whispered, "I thought I heard the name Bruno. Are we supposed to talk about him?"

"Yes!" Cody said with a mischievous giggle.

Miguel put his hands on his hips and gasped in fake outrage. "No!" He pointed at me. "Tell him, Zach."

That was my cue. I rushed back to my keyboard and started playing. Miguel put his bag down and held out his hand. Cody hesitated for just a moment, then took it and dragged Miguel into the living room to dance. We sang more songs from Encanto, as well as Moana, Coco, The Little Mermaid, and Frozen.

By the time we got to "Let it Go," Cody was rubbing his eyes but stubbornly refusing to admit he was tired. Miguel caught my eye and asked, "Do you remember the mama elephant song from Dumbo?"

I frowned, trying to remember anything about the movie. I pulled out one of my older Disney songbooks and flipped through it. "Oh yeah, I remember this one." I nodded to Miguel, who gathered up Cody in his arms while I started playing "Baby Mine" from Dumbo. In less than two minutes, Cody was asleep in Miguel's arms. As I wound down the song, he sank down on my sofa, being careful not to jostle my nephew too much. "I wish I had half his energy," Miguel whispered.

I chuckled softly as I turned off my keyboard. "Truth." I went over to the pair and was struck by how right it looked for Miguel to be cradling Cody in his arms. "I'll put him on my bed to sleep."

Miguel frowned. "Will he be safe? Your bed is awfully high off the ground."

I smiled as I lifted my nephew from his arms. "I'll put him in the middle with all the pillows around him. He'll be fine." Miguel followed me to my bedroom, which sent a tingle of awareness up my spine for some reason.

I settled Cody on the bed and set all four of my pillows around him. I pointed toward my closet and asked, "Would you please get the blanket on the shelf?"

I stifled a chuckle when Miguel had to go up on tiptoes to reach the blanket. He must have heard it anyway because he glared at me when he turned around with the blanket in his hands. "Laugh it up, tree man."

"Sorry," I said, trying to look sorry.

He smiled and shook his head. "No, you're not. Just remember, small but mighty."

"Very true," I replied.

Miguel rubbed his face against the gray blanket. "So soft."

To my complete shock, I felt my cock stir. What. The. Fuck? I shifted and cleared my throat. "Yeah, Cody really likes it." He handed me the blanket, carefully put it over Cody, and we quietly left the room. I left the door halfway open so I could hear Cody if he called me.

I went to the refrigerator and took out a beer. I held it up to show Miguel. "You want one?"

"Sure," he replied.

I grabbed one for him and joined him on the couch. "Thanks for coming over," I said. "It was a lot more fun with you here."

Miguel clinked his bottle to mine. "You're welcome. It was no hardship at all. Cody's a sweet kid."

"He's a handful," I retorted.

"Most three-year-olds are," he said. "Or is he four now?"

I shook my head. "Not yet. His birthday is May fourth."

Miguel's brows rose and his eyes widened. "No way. Has he seen Star Wars yet?" Then he shook his head. "Never mind. He's too young to argue about who shot first in Mos Eisley."

We looked at each other and said at the same time, "Han shot first."

We laughed and clinked our bottles again. After I took another drink, I asked, "Has there been any more fallout from your conversation with your mom?"

Miguel sighed. "My sister called me this morning to try to guilt me into coming to Easter dinner by telling me how sad my mother was."

I dropped my head back. "Ugh, that sucks. Why does everyone think your mom being sad is more important than you being true to yourself?"

"Spanish culture is all about family first," Miguel replied. "There's a whole epic love story with Raphael's parents that caused a big scandal in the family."

"He's your cousin, right?" I asked. "That was his wedding where we first started working together."

"Yes," he replied. "Raphael's father is my mother's brother."

"What was the scandal about?"

"Raphael's grandparents wanted his mother to marry some wealthy mogul back in Spain. She fell in love with my uncle instead. They ran away together and got married. They didn't return to see their parents until after Luis, Raphael's older brother, was born."

"Wow," I said. "I'll bet they did that so the parents couldn't try to separate them."

Miguel smiled. "You're right. Having a child together meant the marriage had been consummated, and there was no going back. I heard it was years before my aunt's parents spoke to her again." His smile faded. "I don't want to be cut off from my family, but if I do what they want, it will chip away at me bit by bit until there's nothing left."

I couldn't help myself. I put my arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer to me. "I'm really sorry, Miguel. I wish there was more I could do to help."

"Thanks," he replied. "I guess I'm most disappointed in my sister. I never expected her to do a one-eighty in her support of me."

"I hear you," I said. "It was kind of the opposite with me and my sister. She couldn't stand me when she was younger. She was always saying I wasn't her father, and I couldn't tell her what to do. I was just trying to keep her safe and fed."

Miguel frowned. "That's the second time you said something like that. What's up with your parents?"

I blew out a breath. "My parents aren't…great. They were both more interested in drinking than raising kids. My older brother moved out as soon as he turned eighteen. I was fourteen and Allie was nine at the time. I kind of took over running the house. Allie wasn't my biggest fan for a long time. It wasn't until I went away for basic training after high school that she realized everything I'd done for her. Thankfully, her friend Marissa's parents caught on and took her in while I was gone. When I got back, she threw herself at me and told me she was sorry. Now we get along really well. She even made me Cody's guardian if something happens to her."

Miguel sat up straight and turned to look at me. "That's a pretty big responsibility. She must think Cody's safe with you."

"That's what she told me." I shivered a little. "I mean, I know he's safe with me, but he's better off having his mom."

"True."

We finished our beers, and I got up to get two more. As I returned to the living room, I caught Miguel's expression when he didn't know I was looking. His mouth was turned down and his eyes were sad. I wanted to shake his sister. Hell, his whole family. He must have felt so alone.

An idea came to me as I handed him his beer and sat beside him. I turned so I was facing him. "Do you have any spare makeup with you?"

Miguel's hands immediately went to his face. "Is my eyeliner messed up again?"

I shook my head. "No." I cleared my throat, my nerves trying to get the better of me. "I thought it might be cool to see what I look like with a little bit of makeup."

Miguel blinked and stared at me. "Were you drinking before I got here?"

"No," I said with a chuckle. "I just want to see what I look like."

"Okay," he replied, drawing out the word. "I have some in my glove box. If you're sure."

"I'm sure."

He narrowed his eyes and stared at me a little bit longer. Then he shrugged and got up to go to his car. He was back a few minutes later carrying a small zippered bag. He looked around my living room, such as it was, and pointed to the other end of the couch, where there was an end table with a lamp. "Sit there and take the shade off the lamp."

I did as he asked while he took out his supplies. He had more makeup with him than I thought he would. He stood there with his hands on his hips, staring at my face. I could only imagine what he saw. I wasn't nearly as good-looking as Miguel and my stubble was two days old. Miguel wagged his finger in my face. "None of that."

"None of what?"

"I saw the look on your face. You're all up in your head, worried because you're not as cute as me." His smirk and cocked hip made me laugh, and I relaxed.

"Much better," he said. He picked up a narrow brush and a small case. He opened the case and said, "Close your eyes."

I felt the brush drag across my eyelid. It was a strange feeling. Miguel seemed to be taking his time. Every once in a while, I'd feel his finger lightly brush my eyelid. It felt good to have his hands touching me so carefully. Finally, he stepped back and said, "Open your eyes."

Miguel had a fond smile on his face. "Not bad," he said. "It just needs a little eyeliner." He picked up an eyeliner pencil and told me to close my eyes again. That felt stranger than the eyeshadow brush, especially when he pulled on my eyelid.

He let out a breath. "Okay. I think that's enough for an experiment. Do you have a small mirror?"

I shook my head. "Just the one in the bathroom."

He let out an exaggerated sigh. "Well, now that we're friends, I'm going to get you some more mirrors."

"You don't have to do that," I protested.

Miguel just grabbed my hand and led me toward my bathroom. He turned on the light and brought me to stand in front of the mirror. For a moment, I was startled by the person looking back at me. Miguel had used a silver-gray eyeshadow that made my eyes look huge. The blue of my irises really stood out. The eyeliner almost made me look exotic.

When I turned to Miguel, I saw that he looked nervous. "It looks good." I ducked my head. "It's not something I would wear every day, but maybe on a special occasion."

His eyes got big. "Really?"

"Really," I replied.

"Uncle Zach?" Cody's voice came from behind Miguel.

Miguel looked panicked. He spun around and said, "Hey, little man. Did you have a good nap?"

Cody ignored Miguel's question and pointed at me. "Uncle Zach looks like you."

I reached down and picked up my nephew. "Miguel helped me put this on. What do you think?"

Cody looked at me and then back at Miguel. He touched my face. "Nice." He smiled at Miguel. "Pretty."

Miguel threw his head back and laughed. "I told you I was cuter."

I couldn't help but join him. "You sure are." There was an unfamiliar warmth in my chest when I thought about Miguel. I wasn't sure what to make of it.