Dax
Ihated to admit it, but the football game was fun. By the end of the first half, the Colts were up by ten and the fans were pumped. We followed the masses out to the concessions area behind the bleachers. Jagger, who’d insisted on sitting in my lap during the game, never let go of his death grip on my index finger.
“Your friend is funny,” he told me as we waited in line for hot dogs and cotton candy. “Are you going to bring him to dinner at Meemaw’s tomorrow? I think you should. He keeps looking at Mr. Justin the way you look at Daddy sometimes.”
The kid had shitty timing. I’d just taken a drink of my soda, which I promptly spat all over Matt’s back. He turned to glare at me, but didn’t seem nearly as upset when Justin reached for a wad of napkins and began drying him. “Oh? And how is that?”
“Like he’s your best friend,” Jagger stated simply. “And I like that he is. I wish I had a best friend.”
I wrapped my arms around Jagger in a tight hug. He was really bothered by the fact that he was on the outside of the group of friends he wanted so badly to be a part of.
“You’ll find one someday,” I promised him. “It took me a long time before I found Matt, and he was one of my first best friends ever.”
“Really?” Jagger’s eyes grew wide and he stared at me like he was trying to figure out if I was lying to him. “But you guys are old, and I heard him tell Mr. Justin that you were grown-ups when you met. I don’t wanna have to wait that long.”
“I know it’s hard to believe, but sometimes it’s better that way.” I thought about the only other close friend I’d had, and how I’d managed to screw that up. Or how I thought I had. Now, I’d come to terms with the fact that this was how my life was supposed to be, and I’d never have found the family I was creating for myself if I’d followed Caleb out to LA.
“Why are you sad?” Jagger asked. Someone bumped into me, pushing me closer to Jagger. I scooped him up before he lost his balance and the two of us started walking back to the bleachers. The second half of the game was about to start.
“I’m not, buddy. I was just thinking.” Without considering my actions, I pressed a soft kiss to the side of his head.
“That’s not what I would call appropriate behavior for a teacher,” a deep voice criticized. I turned to see Jagger’s grandfather glaring at me again. I couldn’t remember ever having seen him in passing before today, but now that I knew who he was, he was everywhere. “Jagger, what are you doing with him?”
“This is Dax. He’s my daddy’s friend,” Jagger informed him. “He’s explaining football to me and telling me all about best friends.”
The old man shook his head. I realized then that I still didn’t even know his name, first or last. I wanted to get the attention off the nature of my relationship with Jagger and Michael when we weren’t at school, but I worried that would only make matters worse. Still hanging on to Jagger, whose arms were wrapped tight enough around my neck that it was hard to breathe, I held out my other to introduce myself. “I’m Dax Collins. Like Jagger said, not only am I his teacher, Michael and I became friends shortly after I moved into town.”
He stared at my proffered hand as if touching me would give him some incurable disease. As uncomfortable as I was, I wasn’t about to be the first to back down. I glanced down at my hand and then cocked my head as I watched him, silently daring him to make an ass of himself. By this time, I knew we had an audience, in the form of Michael’s parents, Justin, and Matt standing behind me.
“Thomas Whittaker,” he finally offered and shook my hand. He squeezed harder than necessary, no doubt trying to intimidate me. If he’d known anything about me, he’d know I wasn’t going to back down. Finally, he released my hand, and I resisted the urge to shake it to get the feeling back into my fingers.
“Well, Mr. Whittaker, it’s been a pleasure meeting you, but we do need to get back to our seats.” I heard Bonnie snickering behind me as we climbed to the top of the bleachers where Jagger had insisted on sitting.
No one said anything about the interaction until the game was over and we were walking back to the Underwoods’ car. Jagger hadn’t been able to stay awake by the middle of the third quarter, so I’d taken off my coat and draped it over him. Rather than juggle him into Doug’s arms, I offered to walk with them.
“I’ll admit, you impressed me tonight, son.” He’d taken to referring to me as son after the first night I’d had dinner with them, and I still wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I had distant memories of my father using it almost as a slur when he was drunk, but when I remembered that Doug wasn’t my own father, I could admit it felt good.
“Not sure why, but thank you.” I eased Jagger into his booster seat and straightened to see Doug watching me with a dopey smile on his face. That made me shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “Uh…he’s all strapped in and ready to go.”
“You’re good with him,” Doug observed. “More than that, I think you’re good for both of them. I’m a big enough man to admit when I’ve made a mistake, and I did with you.”
“Whatever it was, no apology is necessary,” I said, more because I wasn’t in the mood for anything other than a few beers to settle the lingering nerves from Thomas fucking Whittaker.
“Yes, it is,” he insisted. “When Bonnie told me about her talk with Michael, I thought this was him being foolish yet again. I thought he was confused about what was running through his mind, because he’d never given me the impression that he might be queer.”
I sucked in a sharp breath and buried my hands in my pockets. It was hard to remind myself that Doug wasn’t a homophobic asshole and that his choice of words likely came from his own upbringing out here in the middle of nowhere.
“I’m sorry. I’m making a mess of this.” He scrubbed at the back of his neck the exact same way his son did when he was nervous. The two of them were more alike than either would admit. “What I’m trying to tell you is that if you and Michael want to build a life together, Bonnie and I will both stand by you.”
That most definitely wasn’t a tear I felt stinging the corner of my eye. My chest wasn’t getting tight and it wasn’t hard to breathe. Nope, because that’d mean he was getting to me, and I couldn’t have that.
“Thanks.” Okay, so he’d managed to say the one thing that could break down what was left of the walls I was trying to keep up around my heart. Not only did I have a great guy I was close to admitting I was totally falling in love with right along with his son, but with one simple statement, Doug had shown me that I was part of something bigger. I was part of their family.
“Now, if Thomas tries to give you any hell, I want you to tell me,” Doug said. He ducked down to look into the car, where Jagger was still sound asleep. “I don’t think he’d be foolish enough to do any of the things Michael’s worried about, but the Whittakers are hurting, and pain makes people do stupid things. They love Jagger, and my son has done wrong by them in keeping him from them as much as he has. I’m hoping this will all blow over and that you’ll be able to help ease his fears.”
“I’m trying,” I promised him. “But in case you haven’t noticed, your son can be a bit mulish when he gets something in his head.”
Doug laughed and thumped me on the back. “You’re all right, Dax. Even if you do have a strange name.”
