15. Ethan

CHAPTER 15

ETHAN

It had only been his first day at work, but already Mickey looked like he was a whole new person. That was the thought that Ethan took home with him and the thought that had stayed with him as he crawled into his bed.

Nights hadn't bothered him in years, but it was strange now for him to lie in bed knowing there was no one else in the house. Mickey had only been there a short time, but it was nice to have someone to come home to.

Ethan didn't generally think of himself as lonely. Sure, he was alone, romantically speaking. He'd been alone in that regard for a long, long time. But now that his kids were grown, they were more like his friends than his children. Gone were the days when they needed him to be a parent to them.

He wasn't lacking for human interaction, and he loved working in his diner. He'd never imagined doing anything else and he took pride in the longevity of his establishment. But even Ethan had to admit that there had been something special about spending his time in front of the fire, playing guitar for Mickey.

Ethan turned onto his side and willed sleep to take him. And if he didn't fall asleep until after he heard Mickey come in, that was his own business. It made waking up the next morning especially difficult, but he managed to pry himself out of bed, cursing how sore he was from sleeping on his side all night. He rubbed at his hip and, not for the first time, frowned at the fact he was officially old enough to injure himself sleeping.

He dressed in jeans and a long sleeve, checkered button-up. He rolled the sleeves up and crept through the house, doing his best to sneak out without disturbing Mickey. Ethan never did see the point of making a coffee here when the diner had plenty. This morning, however, the kitchen light was on and Mickey was up already.

With two cups of coffee poured and waiting, he greeted Ethan with a tentative smile.

"Hey, I didn't expect to see you up." Mickey usually wasn't when Ethan left for work.

"I woke up with your alarm." Mickey slid a coffee toward Ethan.

"How was your first night?"

"I think it went well." Mickey raked a hand through his hair. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm—my mom was here the other day. And I don't know exactly what prompted her actions, or where she got it, but she gave me a bit of money. It's not a lot, but it's enough. You see, Shane had a renter who trashed the place over the bar, and if I do the fixes myself, he's got the materials and I get a killer deal on rent." Mickey frowned and stared into his coffee instead of looking at Ethan.

Ethan had expected this day to come. It had been his hope when he took Mickey in that he'd stay until he got on his feet. And he'd managed to do that, so why did it feel so bad? Why did Ethan hate the thought of Mickey leaving?

"If you need help fixing up your new place, I hope you know you can call me."

Mickey nodded. Then shrugged. It comforted Ethan to know that Mickey appeared to be as out of sorts about this whole thing as Ethan was.

"You don't have to do everything on your own," Ethan pressed on. "I know you want to be fiercely independent, but it's okay to ask your friends for help."

Finally, Mickey lifted his gaze and looked at Ethan. "You've done so much for me already."

"And I'd do it again." Ethan stepped closer. He hadn't even meant to, but Mickey was like a siren calling him in, pulling him closer whether he meant to or not. "You act like me helping you was this big burden on my shoulders."

He took another step. He didn't even know why he was moving closer, only that he had to be near enough to see the flecks of gold in Mickey's caramel eyes.

"I haven't paid for a single thing you've given me."

"And you won't. Because there's no way I can pay you for what you've given me, Mickey."

Mickey's brow furrowed. It was clear that he didn't understand and Ethan wasn't sure he could put it into words himself. But he had to try.

"You've given me friendship. Companionship. You've let me share music with you. And my family. Those things are worth more than some old clothes and a few dollars of groceries."

"I—" Mickey's mouth snapped shut. "You almost make me feel bad that I told Shane I could move in today."

Today. Mickey was leaving today. Ethan tried not to react, but it was a near thing. He wasn't sure why the thought of Mickey not being here felt like someone had torn a hole in his chest, only that it was there, gaping and raw.

"Don't feel bad, Mickey. Just—make sure you come around for fire nights, okay? You're always welcome here. And I know Shane has a hell of a cook over there, but don't forget to stop by the diner now and then."

It was stupid to feel like this was goodbye. Mickey was moving across town, not across the universe. They weren't star-crossed lovers being torn apart by fate. They weren't anything. And it was that thought that twisted the knife in Ethan's guts.

He was going to miss Mickey. Not because he made his house seem less empty, but because he made Ethan feel less empty. Mickey had quickly become important to him and he wasn't sure what to do about it. For now—nothing. Mickey was just getting his life back together. He deserved time and space to see who he was and what he wanted.

The last thing he needed was to be saddled with the angsty attachment of a middle-aged man who, for one reason or another, had started to have feelings for him.

"Do you need help with your things? I know Taylor brought you a ton of clothes. I can swing by later and give you a lift. It'll save you lugging your bags over there or hiring a cab."

It was strangely important to Ethan that Mickey say yes. He'd brought him in from the cold and he wanted to see that he was going somewhere that he'd be safe. It didn't matter that Mickey wasn't his responsibility. He couldn't stop himself from wanting to make sure he was okay.

"Shane said he'd have the keys around noon."

Ethan nodded. "I'll be here to get you and take you over there." He shoved his hands in his pockets and checked that he had his keys and phone. "I have to get the diner open."

Mickey nodded. "I didn't mean to keep you."

"You didn't," Ethan promised. With nothing more to say, he excused himself and left.

Mickey's independence was a good thing. Ethan knew it was a point of pride for Mickey and the logical next step for him. A place of his own. A job of his own. Money of his own. A life that was no longer controlled by anyone else but him. Ethan was proud of Mickey. But he was going to miss him and now that he was alone, he could confront that thought head on and examine what it meant.

It meant that Mickey was right to bail before Ethan did something stupid about his burgeoning feelings for the younger man. It also meant that should there come a time when Ethan felt comfortable telling Mickey about how he felt, Mickey would be free to say yes or no, without worrying about his livelihood or his living arrangements being jeopardized. He never wanted to put Mickey in any kind of position where he didn't feel he had the freedom of choice. He was sure there were lots of things about his relationship with Lance that Mickey hadn't told him. In fact, Ethan was certain they'd only scratched the surface. Mickey had a lot of baggage to deal with and Ethan didn't need to add more to it.

He shook his head at his own tangled thoughts. It was silly of him to act like he had any kind of shot with Mickey. Even if he told him about his feelings, which he wasn't going to do. Mickey was younger and deserved better than some boring old man whose best friends were his own kids.

Work that day sucked. It was all Ethan could do to keep his mind on task. Even Taylor noticed how scattered his dad seemed to be and though he didn't comment, Ethan sensed Taylor's watchful gaze on him a few times.

When Ethan's other staff members came in, he went to the office under the guise of having paperwork to take care of. In actuality, he sat at his desktop and lost several hands of solitaire while pretending to be not thinking about Mickey and not watching the time.

Midday's approach took an eternity to arrive, and still Ethan wanted more time. But it was up.

He stood up and was on his way out of his office when Taylor ducked in. "Hey, I wanted to check on you," he said. "You seemed distracted today."

Ethan couldn't admit to not sleeping well without Taylor asking even more questions, so he went with a version of the truth.

"I'm taking Mickey to his new apartment, right now actually. His mom was around the other day and gave him some cash, and Shane is renting him the unit above the bar."

Taylor made a face. "Better him than me. I couldn't live above a bar. Too noisy."

Ethan grinned at him. "Spoken like a true morning person. I was just worried that he was rushing himself, leaving because he thinks he has to, rather than because he wants to."

Taylor squeezed Ethan's shoulder. "That's because you're a good dad."

None of Ethan's feelings for Mickey were at all fatherly, but he wasn't about to correct Taylor. Not about this. He'd never come out to his kids and he was suddenly unsure of how they'd react. Would they be mad that he kept this a secret from them?

When they were growing up, it hadn't been important. At first he'd had their mother, and then when she was gone, Ethan was too busy raising them to worry about dating. Maybe he'd failed them in that regard. Had Taylor lost out on a feminine influence because Ethan was too busy working to bother dipping his toes in the dating pool? Had his other boys missed out on something because he'd stayed single?

He slipped out of the diner through the back, aware of Taylor's worried side-eye. The drive home wasn't long enough and when he walked inside, he found that Mickey was ready for him. His bags were packed and were sitting by the front door.

"Are you ready?" Ethan tried to keep his voice flat and even though his throat burned and ached.

Mickey nodded and grabbed his bags. Ethan took the larger one from him and they were stowed in the back of Ethan's truck. Mickey didn't say anything on the drive over, though he was as pale as a sheet. Ethan figured he was worried about the next step he was taking.

"You'll be all right," Ethan assured him. The Anchor stood at the other end of the street from where they were currently waiting for the light to change. "And if you're not, you know where to find me."

Ethan glanced over at Mickey, who was still ghostly white, but attempting a brave face.

Shane was outside waiting for them. Ethan unbuckled his seat belt and climbed out of the truck. Keeping one eye on Mickey, Ethan didn't miss the way his hands shook when he took the keys from Shane, or when he counted out first month's rent and handed it over to Shane.

Ethan lugged Mickey's bags over. It hadn't been his intention to walk Mickey up to his new place, but he had to see it through now. There was no way he could leave without at least knowing where Mickey would be.

"I'll let you two go on up. I'll see you for work later, Mickey. Ethan, don't be a stranger." Shane tucked the money in his pocket and slipped in through the back door.

"I'll help you with your bags," Ethan stated. It wasn't an offer. If Mickey wanted him not to help, he'd have to say as much.

Mickey nodded and went over to a door that Ethan had never paid much attention to. They key turned easily enough and Ethan followed Mickey into the building. It was just a hallway, a door, and a staircase.

"The unit is upstairs. That door leads to the bar, but it's locked. No one can use it from either side unless Shane unlocks it."

Mickey headed up first and used a different key to unlock the door that sat at the top of the stairs. Ethan followed him into the apartment and set the bags down. Truthfully, it was an okay place. The carpet in the living room had to go and it needed new paint, among other fixes. But it was sparsely furnished and the view from the front window looked out on the parking lot. There was a small sort of balcony Mickey could access if he wanted to pop through the window.

Ethan poked around the apartment. The bedroom had a double bed with what looked to be a new mattress and a set of bedding on it. Mickey had already walked in and was reading a card.

"He said the bed comes with the unit. I can't take it when I leave, but he didn't want me sleeping on the floor." Mickey pulled his gaze away from the note and looked at Ethan. "How is this my life?"

"It's a lot of big changes, but you deserve it, Mickey."

Mickey looked at Ethan with wide eyes and a forlorn expression. "Did you really mean that I could come for fire nights still?"

"You can come over whenever you want. You're always welcome, Mickey." Ethan's phone vibrated in his pocket and he knew without looking that it was the diner. "I have to get going."

Mickey nodded and escorted Ethan to the door. "I guess this is it, huh?"

Ethan gave Mickey the most sincere smile he could muster. "You'll do great, Mickey."

He didn't know what compelled him to do it except for the fact that Mickey looked like he needed one as bad as Ethan did, but he swept him into his arms and hugged him tight. And if he took a moment to imagine that it could be anything more than a hug, that was okay. And if he inconspicuously inhaled Mickey's scent, no one would ever know.

And if he pulled away, aching to press his lips against Mickey's, it would be his secret.