Anders raises his hands. “Okay. Okay. Message received.” Looking around the desk, he grabs his iPad and grumbles to himself. “What sucks is that there’s a solution right in front of your face and you refuse to take it because you don’t feel like you deserve it.”
He’s not wrong. “Just don’t fucking push me, man,” I say, brandishing my cane again.
Pursing his lips, he shakes his head. “I’m not trying to push you. I just want you to not hurt so much is all,” he answers, his eyes downcast.
Yeah, I know.
We end with a promise that I’ll give myself some time to consider everything. It’s definitely not ano, but I have a lot to think about. And I wish I had somebody to talk to about it.
3
Odd
I’m at the vineyard to celebrate my dad’s newest attempt at wine-making. I’ll be honest, I’m a little worried—I’m not much of a wine drinker and most people’s early efforts at this kind of thing are pretty bad. I wasn’t a fan of his first vintage.
Samuel is helping my mom cook something that smells delicious while Dad is chasing the grackles from the garden on the side of the house.
Anders and Omar join me in the living room and my brother nudges my leg. “So are we going to talk about how you iced DB yesterday?”
“I’d rather not.”
Omar shoots me a pitying glance and my brother plows forward. “When has that ever worked for you? C’mon. Spill. I chatted with him yesterday after the meeting, and he’s a mess. What happened with you two?”
Chatted with him my ass.Anders borrowed our pediatrician friend’s office and had some kind of appointment with him.
“Why would you assume that anything happened with DB?” His initials feel wrong now that I know the sound of his name on my tongue.
“Because you look like you want to murder people, and that’s usually my schtick. It’s been this way for weeks.”
I tilt my head back, wishing my mom would hurry up with whatever it is she and Samuel are making. Anders’ eyes continue to bore a hole in my skull, so I let out a huff of air. “Fine. We kissed.”
“I knew it!” He says with a fist pump. “When?”
“The week before he gifted Anja and Georg the vineyard.”
“Holy shit, dude. How did that go?” Before I can answer, realization flashes across his face and he holds up his hand. “Hold the phone. Is that why you shaved your beard and chopped off your hair?”
Yes, you nosey asshole.It’s also why I cried like an idiot on Thane’s shoulder the night DB gave my parents the deed to this place. I reject the temptation to ask him about the appointment with DeShaun that I’m not supposed to know about.
“For a couple of minutes there, it was awesome, like a fucking window into what we could be. But he pulled away, said he thinks that there are too many things wrong with him to pursue a relationship. So, yeah. Not gonna happen. At least he’s stopped telling me it’s because he’s my boss.” I signal the end of this topic by picking up one of the photography books on the coffee table. I’m about ten pages in when Anders leans over and pulls it out of my hands.
“So that’s it?”
“That’s it,” I respond, my voice flat as I grab the book back from him.
“Even though he looked absolutely crushed to see that you’d cut your hair.”
Did he?“He did not.”
“Did so.”
We end up in a staring match until I hold up my hands, wanting this conversation to be over. “Doesn’t matter. He said no.”
Anders draws his head back, confused. “So?I didn’t stop going after Omar until he finally caved. You do what you gotta do.”
Omar holds up his finger. “Darling, if I may interject here. The way you ‘pursued’ me nearly got your jaw broken. It was only when you sawmeand responded with your sweet side that I knew I could love you. This,” he says, gesturing between Anders and himself, “almost didn’t happen because of your foolishness. Odd is trying to be respectful.”
My brother glances over at his man with a melted ice cream look in his eyes and grumbles under his breath, something aboutBeaver Nuggetsandsaving Mom and Dad. Omar rolls his eyes as he opens his arm to my brother so they can snuggle.Bastards.
