“Thanks!” Jameson said, already feeling better.
For half an hour, Jameson and Seb carried on like that. They swapped bodyguard stories, joked about their men, and learned as much about each other as two people could in that little time. It wasn’t until Jameson was dusting himself with finishing powder and Seb started pouring more wine that a knock on the door interrupted their bonding session.
“Gentlemen,” Gray said, a smile tugging up his lips as he glanced between them. “Ready for dinner?”
Gray
“You took him to a movie theater!”Declan barked. “Twice! I explained this to you, Gray. Jameson needs extra kinds of protection. You can’t do that for him if you’re holding hands over the god damn Raisinets!”
They were about an hour into the latest lecture, and Gray was finally starting to lose his focus. The night before, Declan had laid off once they started dinner, and Gray had fooled himself into thinking the storm had passed. It had felt calm and easy, especially with the way Seb and Jameson immediately hit it off, and Gray had even managed to push all of his self-doubts aside enough to enjoy the evening. He figured, with how Declan was chatting up Jameson and switching out the old albums on the record player all night, they’d skipped straight ahead to the part where he was forgiven.
Fooling himself, he realized, just like he always was. Because the second Gray and Jameson had finished fooling around, Jameson had fallen asleep, and Gray had laid there all night, obsessing over the fact that he had just become boyfriends with Jameson, and at the exact moment when it seemed clear he wasn’t good enough for his precious guy.
And fooling himself, too, that Declan would ever let him off easy
“Hey!” Declan said, his voice sharp. “Are you listening?” They were in the corner of the downstairs loft with Declan’s weights and exercise equipment, and Gray was reluctantly spotting his uncle while he received his berating.
Gray handed Declan his water. “Yes, Uncle Declan.”
He took the bottle with a sigh. Gray could see that he still followed his strict exercise routine. Just like Gray remembered from when he was a kid, his uncle’s muscles popped, although there were shaded with a lot more ink now, and wrinkles tugged at the corners of his eyes. Declan shook his head, then squirted some water into the back of his throat. “What about you, kid?” he asked with a grunt. “How are you feeling?”
Gray swallowed, then scratched the back of his head. He was feeling a hell of a lot of things, as a matter of fact, and he wanted to tell Declan about all of them, from the situation back in Albany to the excitement of seeing Seb and Jameson become friends. But in his tornado of emotions, there was one thing he needed to say more than all the rest.
“I’m fucking in love with Jameson, Uncle Declan. It’s out of control.”
Declan snorted. “You could say that again. You tell him yet?”
Gray stuck his tongue against the side of his mouth. “No,” he answered reluctantly. “I haven’t had the right chance.” The flimsy excuse seemed better than the truth: that he wasn’t feeling like he particularly deserved to say that to Jameson at the moment.
“Too busy playing grab-ass in the movie theaters,” Declan barked. “Gray, if you’re in love with Jameson, you need to tell him how you feel. Hiding it doesn’t do either of you any favors.”
Declan grabbed a back massager, then reached back to dig it into his muscles, and Gray took the opportunity to sit on the workout bench. “But isn’t that fucked up, for me to just tell him that I love him?”
Declan rolled his eyes. “Why the hell would that be fucked up, kid?”
In his chest, Gray felt his breath turn kind of raspy. Suddenly, it was hard to force his voice out. “Because I’m bad for him,” Gray said flatly. “I’m bad for everyone, just like the rest of our family.”
Declan’s breath was heavy behind his ribs, and in the silence that stretched between them, Gray felt tears biting at the corners of his eyes. He rubbed the heel of his palm across his eyes, then cursed.
Declan sat down beside him, then placed his hand on Gray’s shoulder. “Our family, and most of your grandpa’s kids, we’ve got some bad patterns. I don’t have to tell you how many of our cousins have ended up dead or in jail. And the first thing I need you to know, Gray, is that you’re not them.”
Gray choked on his breath. “How do you know?”
“Because the family we came from, those assholes only care about themselves. And you? You care a hell of a lot, Gray, and you’re always thinking about other people. You’re always thinking about the ones you love.”
Finally, the tears broke through. Gray wanted to believe in what Declan was saying so bad it hurt. He let himself suck in a couple deep breaths, then pulled himself back together, fighting to hold strong.
“But that’s not all, Gray. I know, you’re running your game in a different way. You’re not targeting innocent people or going after the vulnerable. I fucking get it. But that guy upstairs, the one who keeps fluttering his eyelashes at you and laughing at your goddamn jokes?” Declan licked his tongue across his teeth, then nodded. “If you’re able to treat him right and keep your head on straight, that seems like a damn good excuse to consider retiring.”
A weird feeling surged through Gray. There was a touch of fear, or maybe nervousness, but it was strung through with pride, too, at hearing the way his uncle talked about him. His jaw tightened as he shook his head.
Of course he was able to treat Jameson right. He would fight like hell to be with his guy, and with Declan rubbing his shoulder, he was damn sure that no one could stop him.
Gray puffed out a breath, then turned to Declan. “I’ll treat him right,” he said confidently, holding his uncle’s eye. “I know I will. But, what about Raiden and Horatio? I feel like I’m abandoning them.”
Declan stood, then picked the back massager up again. “What would Raiden and Horatio say?”
Gray laughed. “They’d say I should do whatever the hell I want, but that’s the problem. A week later, they’d probably try to make their own fireworks or some shit and end up in the hospital.”
