The doorbell echoed through the house, shattering the tension instantly. We stared at each other for a split second before we both burst out laughing.
“Shit!” I hissed, scrambling to pull my boxers and jeans up.
“You have… a little something…” I pointed to the corner of his mouth, breathless with laughter.
Cal wiped his face quickly, smirking. “Yeah? Well, you’re the one who put it there.”
I adjusted myself as I stumbled down the hallway, trying to do my pants back up, hide the flush of my face, and the obvious look of raw skin from the friction of Cal’s stubble against my own.
I pulled the door open and was met with Maverick, still in his pajamas.
Forthe first time in my life, his presence felt fatherly, something I don’t recall ever sensing from the man who gave me life. And in the mix of that all, I saw myself, and how much I really did look like him now. Our hair was about the same length currently, not quite to the base of our necks. My light brown hair wasn’t as light as his, but pretty close; his was adorned with gray strands now, mine was full of natural copper and blonde highlights. Our eyes seemed to be carbon copies of one another, large, and a vibrant brown that always seemed to be filled with flecks of gold in the sunlight, framed by long, thick black eyelashes.
“Hey, Dad,” I said.
“Can I come in?” Maverick asked.
I stepped to the side, allowing him to walk through the doorway. Cal walked into the space as I shut the door.
“Morning, Sir,” Cal said with a smile.
“You don’t gotta call me Sir, kid. Y’all are in your thirties, you’re officially past the age that’s needed,” Maverick said with a smirk. “Besides, that makes me feel fucking ancient. I’m only twenty years older than Si. Let me have the last bit of youth in me.”
Cal met me at my side, his arm snaking around my waist like he always did. God, I was going to miss him just doing that whenever he wanted.
“Are you two ready?” he asked.
Cal and I looked to one another, a bit confused. Leaving for the road wasn’t new territory; we were conditioned for it. My dad had never stopped by before I headed out back on the road before.
“This shit is going to be different,” he added. “I don’t think I need to explain that to you two, do I?”
“I guess not, but it isn’t going to bethatdifferent,” I countered.
“It will be. You two may not be out to your coworkers or your fans, but your dynamic shifted this week. And whether you like it or not, son, I know you. And I know shifting back isn’t going to be easy for you. Either of you.”
I hated that he was right. I hated that he saw what I was feeling. I hated that Maverick wasactuallybeing a dad right now, even if I had craved this from him my entire life.
You’re trying,I thought bitterly.But you’re trying far too late.
I appreciated the effort for what it was, a peace offering. But it didn’t fix the cracks in the foundation. It didn’t erase the nights I spent waiting for him to come home, or the nights I wished he wouldn’t. It didn’t erase the memory of me dragging him to bed, or the pills I flushed down the toilet so Scott wouldn’t find them.
“I will do my best to make it easy on us,” Cal assured.
My heart swelled at the statement, but I couldn’t help but feel an ache at the thought. Cal always seemed to think it was his responsibility to carry the weight of everything, and the idea of him thinking this all was going to rest on him killed me.
Maverick looked at Cal, his expression softening into something genuine. He wasn’t vetting him anymore; he was looking at him with respect.
“I couldn’t ask for someone better for him,” Maverick said quietly. “Man or woman. I never thought I’d see Silas so… true to himself. You did that, Cal.”
He turned his gaze to me.
“Silas, don’t take this any kind of way,” Maverick started, his voice rough. “But you are a better man than I’ll ever be. To have lived through the shit I put you through… being raised by my dad, seeing what you saw from me and Scott fighting our demons… you turned into the best person there could ever be.”
He looked back at Cal.
“But he carries that weight,” Maverick said, pointing a finger at me but looking at Cal. “He carries more weight than he should. He carries my burdens, and Scott’s burdens, because he thinks he has to, even when we tell him he doesn’t. He’s stubborn. He’s sensitive. He’s horrible at communicating what he feels because I’m shit at it too, and being raised by an old Southern man does that to you. That’s not on him; that’s on me for not knowing how to be a dad.”
Maverick stepped closer.
