15. Byrd

15

Byrd

" I remember when you and Lara bought this place." James leans his elbows on the deck railing and stares out into the dark trees. It's an overture, if not quite an apology, and I try not to think of Echo in the same spot, smoking with his head tipped back and his eyes full of stars.

"We had some fun trips those first couple of years." Taking the spot next to him, I mimic his pose. "Remember that girl you brought up for Fourth of July that time? Jennifer?"

"Juniper." He chuckles. "God, what a disaster. I thought Lara would skin her alive when she threw up all over the new shower."

"Yeah, well, she was, what? Twenty-two?"

"Barely." He glances over at my face. "I guess I shouldn't be throwing stones."

"I guess not."

"Look, man." He sighs. "I'm sorry if I lost my shit in there. You kind of blindsided me, you know?"

"I know. I was trying to keep it under the radar. I forgot Elke doesn't really have that setting. Or Echo, I'm learning. "

"So is there really something going on with you and this kid?" He holds up his hands when I level a look at him. "I'm asking as a friend."

"I know you think you are, James, but I also know anything I tell you will make it back to Lara eventually, and I'd rather not throw any more hurt on that pile."

"Fair enough."

We stand in silence for a while, listening to the creak and rustle of the forest. A night owl calls, and something answers with a shriek. A bobcat, I think.

"You could have told me, you know. Whatever Lara wanted. I still would have kicked your ass at Elder Scrolls on Sundays."

"You know Lara," I say, mourning the missed opportunity to be truly myself with my last real male friend. "It wasn't what you'd think of me that scared her, but what you'd think of her for being with me." Maybe it's not too late . "Anyway, now you know."

"Now I know."

"If you think you can keep from hulking out again, you can come back inside for ice cream. I was going to make a pie, but…" Echo kept feeding me blueberries until we both needed a shower and a change of clothes. By the time we got back to the kitchen, no pies were being made. "We ran out of time."

"I think I'll pass tonight, Byrd. I still need to check into the Airbnb and wash off the drive."

"Thanks for playing chauffeur." I chuckle. "Four hours in the car with Elke is its own adventure."

"That sister of yours never shuts up, does she?"

"Not so much, no."

"Well, I'll have the radio to myself the whole way home tomorrow, and I'll be able to listen to my podcasts in peace."

"You still hooked on Higherside Chats ? "

"Best shit out there." He punches my shoulder, a slightly awkward bro move, but I take it for the peace offering it is. "Still on for brunch in Mendo tomorrow?"

"You could come out here instead, if you want. The PlayStation was the first thing I set up when I got here. I have all of our games. Let Elke make us brunch."

"What about the kid?"

" Echo ," I say, a little sharply, "is not to be trusted in the kitchen without expert guidance. But he could run the juicer for mimosas without getting into too much trouble."

Way to convince James to drop the "kid" comments.

Still, scrambled eggs do not count as brunch.

"Maybe check in with your houseguests before we make any plans," he says, "I'm a little scared of those two."

"You and me both, brother." And we're laughing as he hugs me goodbye and heads down the long steps to the driveway.

Elke is alone on the couch in the lower living room, flipping through one of her photography magazines, when I come in from the top porch. She looks up and gives me a wry smile as I start down the stairs to join her.

"Guess I still know how to clear a room."

"Did he come back? "

Echo chose not to hide out in his-now-temporarily-Elke's room when he stalked out of the kitchen earlier, instead disappearing through the sliding glass doors and over the edge of the lower deck. I didn't hear either of the cars start up, thank god, since he'd definitely be over the line after keeping up with Elke all night.

"Echo? No."

I start for the doors myself, hoping he stayed on the property and I won't have to wander the neighborhood in the dark.

"Hold on a second," she says, patting the couch next to her. "I need to talk to you."

"I need to find him." I do. It's a physical pull, tugging at someplace below my solar plexus, sending me out before Echo evaporates into the night like an angry wraith.

"And this is exactly why you need to stay and listen to me, Coen." It's the concern beneath the exasperation that catches my attention. "Echo's a big boy. He'll survive an hour of disappointment on his own, without you chasing after him like a lovesick puppy."

"That's not what I'm doing. He's my responsibility, and I need to make sure he's safe." And not trying to do something monumentally stupid like walk all the way to Mendo or start climbing the rig after three-plus glasses of wine.

"Was it also your responsibility to start fucking him? Part of Reggie's assignment?"

"No, of course not." I groan, dropping onto the couch beside her. I'm obviously not escaping without a little-sister lecture, so I may as well get it over with. "And contrary to what everyone assumes, I have not actually fucked him." My increasingly meaningless line in the sand.

"But something's going on, Coen. Even James could see it."

"Once you threw it in his face. "

"And Echo helped with that too, didn't he?"

"What's your point, Elke?"

"My first question , Coen, is why did you try to hide the relationship from James in the first place? That was obviously your idea. And before you go all denial on me, it's also obvious there is a relationship, whether you're calling it ‘fucking' or not."

I could go around all day on that latter point, but I'm not sure which of us I'd be lying to, so I answer the question instead.

"Because I knew how the night would go if James found out. And I was right. Thanks for that, by the way."

"It went that way because he didn't find out from you. You seriously think if you'd taken him aside right away, or hell, prepared him with a phone call, it still would have imploded so badly?"

"Maybe not." I scrub my hand over my face. "But the long-term repercussions will be the same. James will tell Lara, Lara will get hurt and then be pissed, and then she'll start telling everyone we know, including my contacts at Cirque. And no one will care that he's of legal age. All they'll see is another older guy in a position of power, coercing sex from an impressionable young talent."

"They'll say that until they meet Echo," she scoffs. "It's pretty obvious who's calling the shots around here."

"Please don't let him hear you say that. He's barely housebroken as it is."

"Well, you're the one choosing to mess around with a child."

"He's not a child." Not in the ways that matter.

"He was acting a bit like one tonight," she observes.

"You're one to talk. And you've got six years on him."

"Don't get all defensive." She curls her legs up onto the couch and turns to face me, setting the magazine aside. "I don't want to fight with you about what Echo is or isn't. I just want to make sure you're being careful."

"Are you seriously giving me the safe-sex talk right now?"

"No, dork. I'm sure even you can remember how to use a condom."

"I thought we agreed you'd stop talking about my dick."

"I'm talking about your heart , you big dumb lug. The one you like to hand away like candy for anyone to break a piece off? I want you to protect yourself emotionally for a change. You're terrible at that, and you know it."

"You think Echo is going to break my heart?" I put disbelief in my voice like I can conjure the sheer ridiculousness of the suggestion.

"Well, is he?" she asks, not fooled.

Into a million pieces.

"No. It's not like that." It's treading dangerously close to those waters. "Christ, Elke, we haven't even had sex."

"Not yet." She deliberately echoes Echo's statement from before, and the irony is not lost on me.

"That was just Echo being—"

"A brat?"

"— Echo ."

"Uh-huh. Well, that's reassuring." She pats my cheek the way our gram used to when we were children and were trying to get out of cleaning up some mess we'd made. Irritated, I swat her hand away. "So, what, then?" she presses. "What is it like if it's not ‘ like that '?" And then, because she's goddamn Elke and always thinks she knows better than anyone, she answers her own questions with a statement. "You have to know he's using you."

A pit opens in my stomach, shadowed with self-loathing and thorny with doubt.

"Yes, Elke." I keep my face impassive, my trembling fists shoved between my thighs. "I know."

Of course I know. He hasn't tried to hide it. "The only time I don't feel fucked up is when you touch me." He's using my desire to fuel his recovery, and it's fine , because his recovery is what I want too. We've never pretended this would last past his evaluation—an evaluation I'm increasingly certain I'll be handing over to Reggie once the last of my credibility is shattered and she yanks me from the case.

But another, deeper part of me is laughing at my foolishness, because Elke is right. Reggie is right. I don't know how to hold back my heart in these situations, and pretending that keeping my dick out of Echo's tight ass is the same thing is both laughable and doomed to fail.

I'm used to ignoring the advice of the women in my life, though, so I lie to us both one more time.

"I can handle my own sex life, Elke." I return her pat on the cheek, equally patronizing. "No one is falling in love."

I make my way across the lawn, following the creak and clatter of the rigging that tells me Echo is, in fact, on the rope. There's no moon tonight, and in the faint starlight that filters through the trees, all I can see is the shadow of his movements and his white T-shirt flashing in the dark.

"Hey," I call softly. He ignores me. "Echo." Firmer this time. "You shouldn't be up there drunk in the dark. It's not safe."

His movements slow, then stop. After a second, he drops to the mat.

"I'm not a fucking child, Byrd. I am capable of making my own decisions."

I know. I still want to protect you.

But what I say out loud is:

"Is that what you did tonight? Made your own decisions?"

"You told me to lay low, to ‘keep it in my pants.' You never told me to lie." He moves toward me, coalescing out of the darkness like a mirage of pale skin and turbulent flashing eyes, and stops barely beyond arm's reach.

"You're right. I never asked you to lie." I shove my hands in my pockets to keep them from seeking him out. "It wasn't your fault, anyway. Elke was only picking up on what I wasn't strong enough to hide."

His lips twitch. "Who knew I was so irresistible?"

I did.

You did when you wore that shirt.

"Does it really matter?" he asks. "Your friend is a dick. From everything you've told me, so is your ex. Who cares what they know?"

"It doesn't really matter." Elke's warning lingers, bitter in my throat. "Not to you. You'll be gone in two months, back to fucking in your own league." And I'll be here, dealing with the fallout of my own weakness.

"My own league? You mean other kids ?" He steps closer, his fists balled at his sides. "So, what? I'm your current charity case? Don't do me any fucking favors, Byrd. "

My head snaps up, reeling, shocked anew by the insecurities hiding beneath his merciless bravado.

How does he do that? How does he hide his fears so well and then unleash them like a weapon when I'm least prepared ? The armor of my own fears is woefully inadequate to withstand him.

"Are you joking? You're the one who's out of my league, Echo. What the hell are you going to want with a washed-up divorcé carrying around a string of failed relationships once you're off conquering the cirque world?"

"Stop." His hands reach up to cup my face. "I don't give a shit about your past relationships."

"You should." I close my fingers around his wrists but don't pull away. Maybe I've avoided telling him about Gabriel because Elke is right, and I know this thing between us is temporary. Maybe the best thing now is to come clean and blow it all up before it goes any further.

Ask me why, Echo. I won't lie to you, but I'm not strong enough to offer it up unasked.

"I've never even had a relationship to fuck up until now," he says instead, running his thumb gently over my mouth like those last two words aren't crushing me. "And you're fucking thirty-two, so cut it with the ‘washed up' crap. I've seen you on the rope. If you wanted to get back into it, the only thing stopping you is yourself. Hell, Shilo would hire you in a heartbeat."

"Even if you're right, you're still leaving in August."

His lips are so close .

"Maybe."

"Not maybe. You're getting stronger every day. In another two months, those fears you're fighting will be a distant memory." I squeeze his wrists once, then pull them down, shaking my head. "It would be stupid for either of us to get attached to what's happening here. "

"What if I'm already attached?"

I stare at him, ethereal in the darkness, knowing all too well how real he feels under my hands.

I should shut this down right now. Ignore the way my heart is pounding and send him back up to his bed on the couch—hell, back to LA if I was smart. Because no matter what he thinks he's feeling, he will leave eventually, and I'll be the one left behind.

But he's made me selfish. And I want him more than I want to protect my foolish heart.

"Don't," I whisper, but it sounds like please .