by E M Lindsey
Rising from the bed, he forced himself into the shower, then grabbed his key and escaped the room. He couldn’t lie there anymore knowing damn well he’d neglect everything he’d come there to do for the sake of a fantasy that would never be his reality. So, he wandered and eventually ended up by the pool where the Motels and a few others of the staff looked like they were party prepping for the party the following night.
Brad saw him first, his dark locks glinting in the last of the daylight. He waved Jonas over, then shoved a box of what looked like paper lanterns into his arms. “Want to help?”
“Do you make all the guests earn their keep?” Jonas followed him to a small step ladder under a long string that hung between lamp posts.
Brad winked at him as he climbed to the top and held his hand out for a lantern. Jonas obliged, unfolding it and then passing it up by the hook. “Just the ones we like. Besides, you have that look.”
Jonas blinked, then handed off another one. “What look?”
“The kicked puppy look,” he said with a shrug. “Day that bad?”
Jonas sighed, hating how openly he wore his heart. “Something like that. Um…but I did get to see the goats the other day.”
Brad made a soft noise in the back of his throat as he climbed down and shifted the ladder over. “The new babies? Theo dragged me there last week when they were just learning to walk right. I wanted to die.”
Jonas chuckled as he handed off two more lanterns. “It was nice, and so was Collin. I didn’t get to meet his…husbands?” he chanced, not quite sure what they were to each other.
Brad nodded. “Husbands, yeah. I mean, I guess not legally. But they had a wedding here before we took over the Lodge. I saw pictures.”
Jonas couldn’t help his small smile at that, even if it burned envious in the center of his chest. “That’s so…I mean, the three of them…”
Brad lifted a brow. “Weird?”
“Amazing,” Jonas corrected. “Falling in love once sometimes feels impossible. But with two people?”
“It works for some. Not everyone.” Brad glanced around the pool like he was searching for someone. “I don’t think I could ever share like that.”
Jonas might have agreed with him once, but after meeting Parker and Ronan—even though there was no possibility there—he knew he could see it. The idea of watching them together was enough, and then knowing he could be part of it was almost too much.
“I mean, I can’t even get one date, so…”
Brad hopped to the ground and shot him a smirk. “I heard Birdie would absolutely be a sure bet, if you wanted him.”
Jonas’ cheeks burned. “How?”
“My boyfriend has a thing for gossip,” Brad said. Jonas wanted to be bothered, but it was impossible to let himself feel irritated when Brad had that soft look on his face. “Anyway, you could do worse. Birdie’s a good guy.”
“Yeah, he was nice,” Jonas agreed and once again knew that if it wasn’t for Parker and Ronan, he might have considered it. “I just don’t think me dating here is a good idea.”
“Even if it gives you a reason to stay?” Brad asked.
Jonas pulled his lips between his teeth and released them slowly. “I might be hugely responsible for fucking this town over. Why would you want me to stay?”
“Because it isn’t you doing the fucking over.” Brad offered. He took the box from Jonas and set it down before leading the way to the edge of the pool where there was a large, open cooler. He grabbed two beers out, swiped the condensation on his shirt, then twisted the tops off before handing one over.
“It’s not not me,” Jonas hedged.
Brad elbowed him lightly. “Why do I have a feeling you martyr yourself for your old man a lot?”
“Because I do.” Jonas let out a bitter laugh, then tipped the beer to his lips and took a long drink. It was good. Unfamiliar, probably a local brew, and he took a moment, letting himself want this. The promise of friends like this all the time, of late nights by a hotel pool with people who gave a shit about him and not what he could provide. “Old habits, you know?”
“I do. Trust me,” Brad said, and Jonas knew the man was holding a past close to his chest. “It gets easier though, to break out of that shit. Trauma never really goes away. You can heal from it, but it changes you. The person you are was probably not the person you would have been if life was different.”
“That’s depressing,” Jonas said quietly.
Brad hummed his disagreement and shrugged. “I don’t know. I think maybe if everything I went through disappeared, I might not be able to love Theo the same way I do. I can’t imagine living in a world where he isn’t everything, but I don’t know that I’d appreciate him like that if I wasn’t this version of me.”
Jonas understood on a fundamental level, even if he didn’t think he’d ever have what Brad did. “I just don’t know how to leave.”
“You’ll figure it out. You’re a good guy,” Brad said and tugged him to sit on one of the loungers. Their thighs brushed, and Jonas felt cared for for the first time in a long while. Appreciated without agenda and that was a lot to accept. “You’re coming to the Fourth party, right?”
Jonas remembered the invite. Hell, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since Parker and Ronan invited him. “Yes. I’ll be there.”
“Good.”
Brad didn’t say much else and neither did Jonas. They just sat in comfortable silence and finished their drinks, and for the first time in maybe his entire life, Jonas didn’t feel obligated to be anyone else but himself.
Chapter Eighteen
“We should have had a threesome back when we were young and spry,” Parker bitched as they circled the parking lot looking for an open space. Ronan scoffed, and Parker glanced over to see Ronan smirking at him. “What?”
“We were young, but I was definitely never spry,” Ronan pointed out. “And also, we were almost thirty when we finally got together.”
Parker waved him off, but Ronan caught his prosthetic arm by the wrist and pressed a kiss to the top of his hand. The mixture of metal and plastic was cool from the AC, and he rubbed it on his cheek. “You know what I mean, Ronan.”
“I know,” Ronan said. He let Parker go and leaned back on the seat, pointing out a space far from the entrance. It wasn’t going to feel good, making the walk, but he was recovering quickly. His feet hadn’t wanted to cooperate at all, but the orthotics kept them from dragging, and his arms felt good after a few days of easy weights. “I just don’t know that it would have mattered.”
Parker grunted and eased into the spot, setting the car in park, but he didn’t turn the engine off. “I didn’t expect to be so far out of my depth.”
“I didn’t expect to be wooing some twenty-something with you, no matter how young we were,” Ronan pointed out.
Parker flinched and turned fully toward him. “If you don’t want to do this…”
Ronan reached out and curled his fingers around the back of Parker’s neck, holding tight. “I think I do. I’m almost positive, which is enough to try. I just…I’m not good with feelings.”
“You are talking to the wrong man about that,” Parker muttered, but he laughed when Ronan tugged him into a kiss. “You get me. That’s why this works.”
“I’m not the only one, I think,” Ronan said. Parker had described an awkward afternoon date—of sorts—but it wasn’t what they’d done that had convinced Ronan. It was the way Parker had opened up, baring parts of himself that only Ronan knew. It was the way he talked about it in hushed, vulnerable tones that told Ronan he wanted more. And Ronan hadn’t spent enough time with Jonas, but he knew enough that he was ready to give it a shot. “The worst he can do is tell us no.”
“That actually sounds really shitty,” Parker said with a pout, and Ronan kissed him again until his face relaxed. “But we’re here. He said he’s waiting for us at his room.”
Ronan nodded, grabbing his crutches from the back while Parker
got the cooler and hooked it over his shoulder. The Lodge almost always had good seating, except on the Fourth. It was one of those get there early holidays, but both he and Parker were chronically late and not because either of them moved slowly.
“This way?” Ronan asked, and Parker pulled out his phone to double check, nodding when he had the text up. “Do you think he waited?”
“I think he waited.” Parker’s tone was more trusting than Ronan expected, and it sent a thrill up his spine.
This was a step he never imagined he’d ever take. If someone had asked him three weeks ago if he thought it was possible he could fall for another man, he’d have laughed that person out of the room. The idea was absurd, but then he pictured Jonas’ soft, round face and wide eyes, and his heart thumped the same way it had when he realized there was a reason he liked watching Parker shower in gym.
“I sent him a text,” Parker said, his voice interrupting Ronan’s thoughts. Just then, the door ahead opened, and Jonas was there.
He looked sweet and more causal than before, in jeans and a t-shirt. His hair was mussed and looked a little bit wet, and he wore an easy smile, though a tremble in his fingers belied his nerves. They were both unsure Jonas would even consider this. Hell, that he’d even be interested, but Ronan was starting to think they were on to something.
Jonas’s cheeks were flushed, just a faint dusting of color, and he welcomed them inside. “I’m almost done getting ready. I just need to send an email.”
“Work thing?” Parker asked, pushing past Ronan and setting the cooler and chairs down.
Jonas wrinkled his nose. “Personal stuff. I manage my brothers’ expense accounts, and one of them just over-spent in Greece.” He sank down onto the sofa, in front of his laptop and frowned at the screen.
“Time to cut off the allowance?” Parker asked with a chuckle, but Ronan noticed the way Jonas’ expression darkened. He made his way over, easing onto the cushion next to him and set his crutches aside.
“More like listening to my dad get angry at me for not making sure his credit cards aren’t being maxed out,” Jonas muttered. He typed angrily, and Ronan did his best not to look at the screen. Jonas cleared his throat, then affected a deeper, rougher voice. “Jonas, sometimes I wonder if you do this to my sons on purpose.”
Ronan blinked. “His sons?”
Blanching, Jonas typed a last sentence, then slammed the lid down. “Um. It’s…whatever. He’s always been like that.”
Parker noticed the tone too, because he walked over and sat in the chair, shifting until it was as close to the couch as he could get it. “You don’t have to tell us, but if you want someone to listen, we can.”
Jonas shrugged and laughed, the sound tense. “My mom cheated on him right after they got married and, well,” he waved his hand up and down his torso. “They found out I wasn’t biologically his when I had to get a blood transfusion. Um…it didn’t match up, and I guess they asked my dad about who my real father was?”
Ronan’s eyes went wide. “Shit.”
Jonas laughed again, dragging a hand down his face. “Yeah. He kept that to himself until I tried to go to pharmaceutical school. He gave me this long guilt trip about how I owed him because he treated me like his own son for all these years when he could have thrown me out.”
Parker let out a soft, angry growl. “What the fuck?”
Jonas shrugged. “I mean, he didn’t treat me the same way he treated my brothers, so at least finding that out made sense. My brothers were spoiled assholes, and I just…” He swallowed thickly and looked away. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. He’s leaving me the company when he dies because my brothers would just sell it or run it into the ground.”
Ronan reached over and laid his hand on Jonas’ arm. “That’s bullshit.”
“It is what it is.” Jonas cleared his throat. “I really didn’t want to talk about that right now. He’s an asshole, but I’m the grown adult who chose to do what he wanted.” He stepped out of both their reach and moved to the table to grab his keys. “Want to head out?”
Ronan didn’t. He wanted to drag Jonas back to the sofa and put his arms around him and hold him until it stopped feeling so terrible. And he knew that was a useless thought. He knew he couldn’t love, or cuddle, or fuck someone’s past or trauma out of them. God knows he and Parker tried over the years, but the only thing that worked was quiet support and the ability to feel safe when either of them needed to break down.
He couldn’t offer that to Jonas. Not yet.
Parker offered him a hand, and Ronan heaved to his feet, then grabbed his crutches and followed his husband out the door. The night was warm, the air heavy and humid from an impending storm. It was rare to have rain that heavy in July, but it happened on occasions, and it almost seemed fitting.
In the distance, a cloud—weighted heavily with water—lit up as lightning flashed behind the fog.
“Do you think they’ll still get to do fireworks?” Jonas asked quietly, keeping pace with both him and Parker.
Ronan shrugged. “I don’t doubt it. Fitz is always in charge, and he’s like a goddamn kid when it comes to them. And no one wants to deal with his tantrums.”
Parker snorted. “It’s why we love him.”
“It’s why we handed him off to Antoine,” Ronan reminded his husband with a grin. “But he’ll get his way tonight. Why?”
Jonas shrugged, biting his lip and looking incredibly young there in the fading light of dusk. “I just like fireworks, I guess. They’re like these little bursts of life. There’s all that anticipation, you hold your breath, and then bam. The whole sky is on fire, but only for a second, and then it fades into nothing.”
Parker stared at him, then looked at Ronan with an unreadable glint in his eyes, but Ronan was pretty sure he knew what his husband was feeling. “We’ll get a front row seat,” Parker said.
Ronan smiled to himself and followed the pair down to the pool.
It was crowded, but not as bad as the parking lot had looked, and they were able to find loungers after Parker scared off a couple of teens taking up too much space. Normally Ronan was fine to just make do with what they had, but this flare was a bitch, and everything felt heavy and achy. He eased down to the cushion with a grunt and turned his face up when Parker reached for his chin.
“Food?”
Ronan shrugged. He was more tired than he was hungry, but he knew eating was a good idea. “Just get me something small.”
Parker nodded, then offered his hand to Jonas. “Come help me carry things.”
Jonas nodded, giving a glance back at Ronan before heading off through the crowd. Ronan let out a sigh as he sank back, and his eyes closed until he felt something bump into his lounger.
“You came all this way to sleep?”
Ronan sighed without opening his eyes at the sound of his friend’s voice. “Shouldn’t you be playing with matches somewhere?”
Fitz grunted, then shoved at Ronan until he shifted over, and Fitz crammed himself up against Ronan’s side and draped an arm around him. It had taken years of hard work and apology—and a lot of self-forgiveness—for Ronan to allow this kind of contact again. It had taken tentative touches and pats on the back, and then Fitz falling truly and properly in love for Ronan to allow himself physical comfort from his friend. But now that he had it again, he realized just how desperately he’d missed it, and he leaned back into Fitz’s arms.
“Why aren’t you at home?” Fitz asked quietly. “You look exhausted.”
Ronan fought back a yawn. “I am exhausted.” Fitz dragged a hand up and down his arm, which sent warmth flooding through him. It was easy to forget how much he loved his friends, how much he depended on them. He got caught up in Parker alone on the long weeks when it was hard to leave the house—more so now than years back before Fitz met Antoine. He shifted a little, the bench creaking under the weight of two men who were clearly testing the strength of the furniture.
“Want me to drive you h
ome?”
“No.” Ronan glanced across the crowd, but he didn’t see Parker or Jonas anywhere. “Parker’s entertaining.”
“Birdie told me he went all Parker on him the other night when he was flirting with that investor guy,” Fitz said, his tone careful. “Is there something I should know?”
“No,” Ronan hedged, then decided it was better to be honest. “But there might be? I don’t…it’s very confusing.”
“Is this Parker’s idea?” Fitz asked, and it was a fair question considering most of their both fantastic and terrible ideas had come from his husband.
Ronan glanced back at Fitz, then shook his head. “It was me first. I don’t even know why. I walked into the meeting prepared to hate his guts, and then he started talking, and I just…I don’t know what it is. I can’t explain it.”
“I think I get it,” Fitz said.
Ronan laughed. “Yeah, except I don’t have the urge to pull his pigtails. He’s sweet and kind of lost.”
“So just your type?” Fitz pressed.
Ronan elbowed him, then sank deeper into his arms, and his eyes closed again. “I never thought I could like someone the way I like Parker. And it isn’t the same. Jonas is so different.”
“Yeah,” Fitz breathed. “I get it. I never imagined wanting someone the way I want Antoine. It’s…”
“Everything?” Ronan offered.
Fitz hummed. “So, I need to be nice to this guy, then? Even though he’s here to fuck everything up?”
“It’s not him,” Ronan said and felt suddenly defensive. He started to push up, but Fitz increased his grip, and he lost the battle. “He works for his dad. He’s trying, but his hands are tied.”
“That sounds like an excuse,” Fitz pressed.
“Maybe. But I think it’s more than that. He didn’t come from a family who gave a shit about him. I think he’s been conditioned to devalue himself.”