“Linx.” She pulled his hand.
He stopped. She held his gaze to hers and refused to break that thread between them.
If she was in session, she would’ve let him lead. Let him set the pace. They weren’t in session, though.
“Tell me,” she said, squeezing his hand at the same time she spoke.
“Courtney’s baby is Bax’s.” He glanced to the sidewalk, scraping the tip of his boot in the tiny pebbles of gravel. “That’s what he said.”
“But you haven’t talked to Courtney.” Becca stepped in front of him.
He shook his head. “I will. Need to give her a heads up that I accidentally told the father of her baby.”
Sometimes, when people got mired down in their problems, they needed to name the emotion before they could move through it.
“You’re pissed,” she said.
He nodded. “He messed with my sister.” He pointed to his chest. “My sister.”
“Linx.” Becca reached for his other hand so she held them both. “Courtney was in the room, too.”
He turned and took three steps. Then he turned and took two steps back. “We had a deal. Family is everything. We don’t fuck with that.”
He told her about Em and Bax. The ending of their engagement. The unsteady truce between the Dimefront guys that lasted only moments before it shattered.
“Oh, Linx.” She lifted her hand to the leather on his chest. “This is not yours to carry alone. There are three of you on that team. Three of you who make it work.”
He stared at the sidewalk again. His expression vacant.
Her heart ached for him. “Want me to buy you some chocolate?” She pointed to the convenience store up the block. “My treat?”
They settled on their selections, and she paid for them. He didn’t balk or try to take out his wallet, which was a good indication of just how wrecked he was.
Linx grabbed the plastic sack and handed her a Snickers bar. She ran her thumb along the seam of the wrapper. He didn’t wait. He yanked the wrapper off his Twix then bit into the two chocolate, caramel, cookie bars with one bite.
She tilted her head to the side.
“What?” he asked, looking back at the bars.
“What is it with you massacring candy bars?” Becca asked.
Seriously, she understood he was going through something of a crisis, but did no one teach him how to eat chocolate bars properly?
“Huh?” He studied the rest.
She pointed to it. “That’s not how you eat that.”
He scowled at the candy like it had offended him. “How would you eat it?”
Uh. “One bar at a time, like a normal person.”
“When has anyone ever accused me of being normal?” The edges of his mouth twitched at that.
She relaxed the slightest touch. He was going to be okay. It’d take time, but he was going to be okay.
“Are you okay?” she asked. The bar’s jukebox played the low notes of Nirvana singing “Come As You Are.” The sound drifted onto the sidewalk.
“Fine.” He went about eating the next bites of candy bar much less like a Neanderthal and more like she would’ve done it.
