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Gavin leaned against the side of the truck for a moment, then climbed in. By the time he reached Dom’s neighborhood, his shoulders ached from gripping the steering wheel. The familiar turn brought the house into view, and he slowed almost to a stop, took a deep breath, then pulled into the driveway. Gavin shut off the engine and reached for his phone.

Gavin

I’m here.

He sent the message and got out. At the front door, he stopped himself from reaching for the handle. Dom had said he could come over. That didn’t mean he could just let himself in anymore. He knocked and stepped back.

Dom opened the door, barefoot and wearing an old T-shirt of Gavin’s, Lucia sleeping on his chest. There were shadows beneath his eyes, and his mouth tightened slightly when he saw Gavin.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “You made it.”

“Yeah.” Gavin swallowed. “Sorry I’m late.”

Dom looked at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable in the porch light. Gavin couldn’t tell whether Dom was angry, exhausted, or simply too tired to hide either of those things anymore. The silence stretched between them, heavy with everything Gavin had said and everything he still hadn’t. Lucia stirred on his shoulder, lifting her head and shifting until she saw Gavin. Her eyes went wide, and she twisted, reaching for Gavin with both hands. Her fingers opened and closed in the air, impatient and trusting.

His chest hurt at the sight of her, something inside him twisting. She didn’t know what was going on. She didn’t know about the way he’d hurt her dad or why they were being so careful with their words. She only knew Gavin was someone who was supposed to come when she reached for him.

Gavin stepped closer but stopped before he could take her. Dom’s gaze flicked down to Lucia, then back to him.

“Hey,” Gavin said softly. Lucia made a small, impatient sound and reached for him again. The ache in his chest grew.

He raised his eyes to Dom’s. “Can I come in?” he asked.

Dom glanced down at Lucia, then back at him. He shifted her higher against his chest and nodded, stepping back to let Gavin step through the door.

21

DOM

Dom closed the door and kept his hand on the knob for a second longer than he needed.

For two days, he’d been imagining what he would say when Gavin came back. He’d argued with him in his head while washing bottles and driving to the ballpark and staring at the ceiling at three in the morning. He had whole fucking speeches prepared.

Now Gavin was standing in his house, looking as tired as Dom felt, and all Dom wanted was to bury his face in Gavin’s neck and never let go.

He hated that a little.

Lucia made an impatient sound against his shoulder, and when Dom turned, she reached toward Gavin again, leaning so far forward that he had to tighten his arm around her middle.

“I know, Lucky,” he answered in a low voice. “I see him.”

Gavin hadn’t moved beyond the entryway. His shoulders were stiff beneath his shirt and his hands were hanging at his sides as though he didn’t know what he was allowed to do with them.

Lucia worked one arm free from Dom’s grasp and reached for Gavin again, and Dom stopped trying to hold her back. He shifted her into the space between them. “Here.”

Gavin looked at him for a long moment before taking her, one hand spreading across her back. She caught his collar immediately and pulled herself close, pressing her open mouth against his jaw.

“Hi, sweetheart.” His voice caught on the second word, and Dom had to look away.

He headed for the kitchen. “She’s due for a bottle.”

Gavin followed but stopped on the other side of the island instead of coming to stand beside Dom the way he always did. Sometimes he would have kissed his shoulder while Dom measured formula, and Dom would have complained about Gavin distracting him. Tonight, the counter felt wider than ever. Gavin slid onto a stool and sat Lucia on the counter in front of him, hands around her hips to keep her steady.

“How was the drive?” Dom asked because apparently they were doing that first.

“Long,” Gavin answered.

“Yeah, well, Northern California’s a hell of a long way to go to avoid a conversation.” He tightened the ring on the bottle harder than necessary.