He was thin. Too thin, maybe. He was wearing a long-sleeved Sinner’s Gin band shirt that looked new, and a pair of jeans that looked like they’d been painted on. That was a new look for Nicki. In high school he had tended to wear khaki’s and polos, though I thought that was more his parents’ style than his own. Maybe he’d had the opportunity to begin making his own decisions. I had to admit I liked it.
“Hey,” I said eloquently, finally breaking the silence as I set the water bottle down on the counter and took a seat.
“Hey,” he answered back. His dark-green eyes raking my body, taking in everything about me in one glance.
“Three heys! Now all we need are some horses,” Bishop snarked sarcastically, taking a sip of his coffee and making a face. Bishop’s tone was unusually sharp, more biting than was normal for my brother. Something had seemed to be bothering him the last few days, but I didn’t know what.
His tone had Nicki and I both glaring at him, which Bishop completely ignored.
“How long have you been back?” Bishop prompted Nicki.
“A few weeks,” Nicki answered. He swallowed nervously, looking back and forth between us.
“Did your parents come back, too?” I asked.
“Um… no,” Nicki answered, his face seeming to pale. “…My-my mom passed away. My dad’s still in Florida... I think.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, a pang striking me in the chest. I knew how close Nicki and his mom had been. The way he spoke made me think something must have happened with his dad, but I wasn’t really surprised. Nicki’s relationship with his father had always been challenging. His dad wanted a son who was into sports or business or whatever. Pretty much, he wanted a son who was the exact opposite of Nicki. At least, he had six years ago. Who knew how much had changed? Nicki’s mom had always played mediator between them. She was the grease that kept them from clashing too much. With her gone, I’m sure the sparks would have flown.
“…Thanks…” he whispered, looking down at the water bottle in front of him. The bottle was three-quarters empty, and he’d started peeling the label off, a habit that he’d begun in middle school.
“…How—” I began, but Nicki interrupted.
“I’d rather not—”
“Okay,” I said, running my fingers through my hair. I looked at Bishop in desperation. Talking to Nicki was his idea, he could figure out how to salvage this.
“Well, I don’t think there’s any way this couldbemore awkward,” my brother volunteered, taking a large drink from his coffee and capturing Nicki’s nervous gaze in his own. “…and I care about both of you, so if neither of you are going to really start talking, I will. Since neither of you has the guts to speak up.”
I glared at him again, but he completely ignored me. Bishop turned to Nicki and said, “Nicki, Kaine still loves you and hasn’t managed to have any real relationships since you’ve been gone except some random hookups in clubs. So, if you still love him or want to give this relationship thing a try, you better have one hell of a good reason for ditching him when you went to Florida, because you fucked him up. If you don’t kiss and make up, I’ll have to kick your ass for hurting him.”
We both stared in shock as Bishop continued his rant.
“Kaine, you need to give Nicki a chance to explain. That’s what friends do when friends screw up, much less people who claim to fucking love each other. They give them the chance to explain, apologize, and make amends. So shut the fuck up andlistento him, or I’ll kickyourass for hurtinghim.”
Bishop made a face at his coffee cup, and said, “Damn it, I think I burned my coffee beans.”
He stood, dumped the rest of the coffee in the kitchen sink, then turned his back on the both of us and headed into the living room and upstairs.
Nicki and I looked at each other, shell-shocked by Bishop’s rant and abrupt departure. We stared at each other for a long moment, the tension thick between us. Then our eyes caught, and I’m not sure which of us snickered first, but in seconds Nicki and I were both doubled over, howling in laughter, tears leaking from the corners of our eyes.
We were just starting to recover when I heard Mama K shut the door to her bedroom, but not before saying something about her “niños locos,” and that set us off on another round of the giggles.
“Oh my god,” I groaned, wiping the tears from the corners of my eyes. I grabbed a couple of paper towels from the holder and handed some to Nicki. He reached out to grab them from me, sniffing as he did so.
My gaze snagged on the inside of his left wrist as he reached toward me and I froze, leaving his hand outstretched. Tattooed on his left wrist was a red circle with a plus sign inside of it.
13
Nicki
Shit.
Kaine’s hand flashed out, grabbing my wrist and pulling me towards him. I’d forgotten how fast the fucker was.
His eyes widened and his gaze flew from my wrist to my face. His thumb traced my tattoo gently. His touch felt so nice against my skin that, despite the situation I reveled in the feel of him after so long.
“…When?” He asked, his expression bleak. I took a deep breath.
