“It’s fine, you know. To think of yourself as one of us.”
“I’m not, though.”
“Why do you think that?” Greyson slipped all of his used brushes back into their cases and snapped them closed.
“This isn’t my town.”
“It’s as much yours as it is any of those Motel brothers.”
“Is it theirs?” Leonidas questioned.
“As much as it’s mine.”
Leonidas let that thought settle, thought about what that meant for Andy and his brothers, and for himself. He’d never been one to worry about fitting in because he’d never really felt like he belonged anywhere or that anywhere belonged to him. He knew he could go back to Mykonos and to his mama’s house and he would know which drawer held the silverware, and what things were in the fridge. Just like here. He knew his way around the cabin now, even though the bottom drawer had caught him by surprise. He knew where his things were and where Andy’s things overlapped his, and he knew his way around the room at the lodge that Andy called his own.
After Cameron left, Andy had taken his old room, tucked into the residence corner of the first floor, and Leonidas’s things had quickly found their way there. He wasn’t ready to give up the rental at the lake, though. Something about the solitude and the separation appealed to him, and to Andy. They split their time, but Leonidas knew eventually there’d be no need for them to have anything at the cabin. Knowing the hotel was there for them would be fine, and they could rent the cabin if they ever felt smothered.
“That’s food for thought,” he said.
Greyson smiled and rolled up his brushes and gave him a small smile.
“Thanks for your help today.”
“Anytime. I mean that.”
“I know,” Greyson said, then he turned away to speak with one of the women from the event.
Leonidas grabbed his jacket and worked his way through the crowd of women, returning their salacious smiles, but grateful to reach the front door. He pushed into the brisk evening air and sucked in a much needed breath, tightening his jacket around him. Cherry Creek smelled like the promise of frost and baked goods and maybe a little like home for now.
Instead of heading up toward the lake, Leonidas turned right toward Wilder’s bakery, Indulgence. He pulled open the door and found Wilder behind the counter with Theo beside him, and they laughed at something on Theo’s phone.
“Funny?” he asked.
“Childish,” Wilder answered with an embarrassed grin.
“If you could hear the fart sounds, it would be funnier,” Theo said, putting his phone down on the counter with a melodramatic sigh.
“I’m glad I can’t,” Wilder said, “And you’re glad I can’t, because how else would you have been able to watch it seven times at full volume without looking like a fool.”
“I don’t need you to look like a fool,” Theo countered, looking proud until after a moment when his expression fell, and he leveled an offended glare at Wilder, who laughed. “That was mean.”
“You walked into it,” he said.
The door behind him opened again, and Leonidas turned to find Parker Alling, the town doctor and Ronan’s husband. He had sunglasses on, with a ballcap pulled low on his head, and he looked like he was keeping an eye out for people intent on wronging him.
“What are you doing?” Theo asked him.
Parker straightened, pulled his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, and gave Leonidas a thoughtful look before shaking his head and muttering something under his breath.
“What?” Leonidas chuckled.
“Did you get my voicemail?”
Leonidas pulled his phone out of his pocket and realized the voicemail icon was lit up. He showed Parker his phone, then pushed the button and raised the device to his ear.
“Hello, Mr. Filo,” Parker’s voice said into his ear, sounding more professional than he had when Leonidas had visited him earlier in the week to get a physical. “I wanted to reach out and advise that all of your test results have come back negative. Please feel free to call the office during business hours if you have any questions. Thanks.”
Leonidas deleted the message and returned his phone to his pocket. “Thanks,” he said.
