I can feel my heart beating behind my ribs. There’s no way to tell Drew no, so after another swig from my beer, I nod. “When I took over, I changed the shop a lot. Made it into something different than the place my old man ran, less mean and a lot more open to newcomers. But when he was dying, I made him a promise that no matter what, I’d make sure my nephew Jeremiah had a home at Blade.”
“So you do have family at the shop still?” Drew asks.
I frown. “No,” I answer flatly. “I fired him.”
For a minute, I can feel a wall of shame towering behind me. I might have had good reason, but I still broke the promise I made to my dying father.
Guilt sinks into my gut. I hate telling Drew that I betrayed my word like that.
“What happened?” he asked.
“He was a dick,” I answer bluntly. Drew half-smiles, entertained by me even when I’m being a sad sack. “I always knew that. My brother was just like him, and they were both like my old man. But I thought, since I was the one running the shop, he knew enough to keep himself in line.”
I grit my teeth and shake my head. With all the shame I feel for breaking my word, I’m just as guilty for not taking care of the problem with my nephew years earlier.
“He started harassing one of my new hires, Stone,” I explain. “When Stone brought his boyfriend around, Jeremiah turned nasty and homophobic, too. I learned how bad it was and took Jeremiah aside. Cussed him out and threatened him every which way I could. Told him exactly what I thought of him. I believed it worked, too, until I found out that he’d had a couple of friends bust up Stone’s hand.”
Drew sucks in a surprised breath. He looks horrified. I worry that I’ve just revealed too much. I’ve shown him that I’m not the big softie he believes I am. I’m a crank with a messed-up life, exactly the way I look.
“Caesar, I’m so sorry you went through that.”
I tighten my brow, confused. “What? Stone took the beating, not me.”
“To be put in that position? You had no good choices. Your nephew basically forced you to break your word.” His hazel eyes get wider as he holds my gaze. “Hold on. Is that why you aren’t in touch with your family? Because they sided with Jeremiah?”
I scoff, although he’s right. “I gave up on them a long time ago. Hadn’t talked to most anyone in years.”
Drew is still holding my hand, tighter now. He’s looking at me with something I don’t quite understand, like he feels bad for me. People don’t fucking look at me like that, and my chest gets tight as he keeps stroking the back of my hand.
“Shit, Caesar. No wonder you’re so grumpy. It sounds like they all treated you wrong. Your family…” He trails off. “Maybe even Mack?”
“It’s not like that,” I insist. My voice is caught in the gravel of my throat, like a cough that won’t come out. “I got the damn shop. I was taken care of.”
“I’m sorry you didn’t have more, though. I’m sorry you didn’t have someone there with you.”
His voice cuts me. Drew sees something in me that other people don’t see.
Right then, sitting at the edge of my driveway and garage, nursing a beer as the night grows dark, I finally admit to myself that I have been lonely. It’s not that I’ve been denying it, exactly, or that I’ve been wallowing like a sad son of a bitch.
But with Drew’s legs in my lap, I realize how much I’ve missed having someone to share my time.
“Thanks,” I finally manage to say. This time, I know the word doesn’t contain everything I need it to. My shoulder aches, and I pull my arm up, stretching it out high as my thoughts return to Drew’s situation. “And hey, the point is, you’ve got to make your decisions for yourself. A family business is one thing, but if you spend your life trying to make other people happy, you’ll never get your own.”
He smiles. He’s still got that compassion in his eyes, and I still feel like a quivering goddamn pudding inside, but at least this is more comfortable. With every instinct demanding that I should take care of Drew, him trying to take care of me is jarring.
“I’ve got to make decisions for myself,” he says, nodding slowly. “You know, Caesar, I think that is the exact advice that I need to hear. Thank you.”
I scratch my chin. “Sure, kid.”
We sit in a comfortable silence, looking at each other and nursing our beers. Grace yawns happily at our feet; then Drew drops his hand down for her to lick.
I rest my hand on his knee. He looks like an angel, I swear. I’m filled with the urge to cover him with my ink, mark him forever.
The flirty smile he gives me is a promise. We’re going to tear into each other later, but not quite yet.
“All right,” I say, then pat his leg. “Fuck around with this machine, huh? I want to watch you work.”
Drew grins. He crawls up on top of me, straddling my lap. The bench wobbles beneath me, and I brace myself, holding him so we don’t topple over, but Drew just laughs.
