Honeymoon

by H Q Kingsley

  Laughing, I nodded. “Well, I won’t hold my breath while I wait for it.”

  Quinn wasn’t that friend. He wasn’t the friend who remembered birthdays or bought you thoughtful Christmas gifts, or even the friend who would remember to pick you up from the airport. But that wasn’t the kind of friend I needed. I needed the kind of friend who would hitchhike to Mexico because I was having an episode and no one else could get through to me. And that’s who Quinn was. He was always there when I needed him. He’d follow me to hell if I asked, but he wouldn’t bring a Christmas gift.

  “So, does that mean there’s a party tonight at yours? I sort of promised Bobbi I’d stay home tonight.”

  I shook my head. “Not at all. We’re just going to have dinner. Nothing special. You should stay at your place. Honestly, I see you way too much for someone who allegedly moved out a year ago.”

  Quinn let out an exasperated breath. “Please, you love seeing me.”

  “I never said I didn’t. But…” I turned to him as I pulled up to a red light. “Bobbi is madly in love with you. It’s far time you decide if it’s mutual.”

  Quinn frowned, and I could see it in his eyes—he’d been thinking the same thing. He’d been stringing Bobbi along for the better part of two years. He cleared his throat with a nod. “I know,” he said softly.

  I reached out to place my hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze as I left him to his thoughts. I knew Quinn; he wasn’t intentionally misleading Bobbi. Hell, he probably had no idea why the man was so in love with him, but Quinn had a knack for not knowing what he wanted. In most instances, it made him kind of fearless. Who else but Quinn could be a teacher by day and a bartender by night? But in other instances, it left him as the bad guy breaking someone’s heart.

  I turned up the radio to fill some of the silence as we made our way through traffic. Only the sounds of MC Lyte and Greyson’s constant texting floated through the car until we pulled up to Quinn’s elementary school.

  “Thanks for the ride,” he said as he climbed out of the car. “Happy birthday, bro!” He turned his gaze to the back seat. “Stay out of trouble,” he said mockingly.

  “Always.” Greyson grinned after him as he headed toward the building.

  “Why don’t you hop up here,” I said, patting the empty passenger seat.

  Greyson gazed skeptically back at me before he stepped out of the car with a sigh. He opened the passenger door and plopped in.

  “Cool, cool,” I said, as I pulled away from the curb, trying my best to be casual.

  “Dad, it’s cool,” Greyson said with a groan.

  “Huh? What’s cool?”

  “Quinn said that I’m getting laid and you’ve been freaking out about it ever since, right?”

  I blinked over at him before turning my eyes back to the road. “Uh, well, yeah.” Jesus, the kid was too smart for his own good.

  “I’m not having sex, Dad,” Greyson said calmly.

  I slowly nodded my head, trying to collect my thoughts. My own father hadn’t been around when I was Greyson’s age, and I was determined to be better. “Are you…sure?”

  Greyson chuckled. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’d know.”

  I laughed. “Fair point.” I sucked in a breath. “Okay. Good. Because you know you can talk to me if you’re thinking about—”

  “I know, Dad. But I’m not. I’m fine.”

  I cringed. Could that really be true? What teenage boy wasn’t thinking about having sex? Especially my teenage boy. He was smart, charming, and handsome. I shook my head. Was I actually upset that my sixteen-year-old wasn’t getting laid? I was losing my goddamn mind.

  “So, you’re not even considering it?” I asked, wondering why the hell I was pushing it. “Because you know you can talk to me about…if something else is going on too.”

  Greyson groaned. “I’m not gay either, if that’s where this is going.” I opened my mouth, and he cut me off. “Or questioning, or anything else you’re about to hint at. I’m just not interested in the girls at my school.”

  “Oh.” I nodded, considering whether I should circle back around to the gay thing. I hadn’t been interested in any of the girls at my school either. I looked over at him as I pulled into a line of traffic.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Greyson protested. “Look, I love you, Dad, and I love Karlyle, but you guys sent me to a private school that’s very, very rich and very, very white.”

  “Ah,” I said, some of the pieces falling into place.

  “I’m the adopted black athlete. Every girl in my class at best thinks of me as a prop to mess with daddy and at worst, a sideshow act, which doesn’t exactly make me want to bone.”

  I held up my hand. “Got it.”

  “Great. Can we be done talking about this?”

  “Yes.” I shook my head as I let out a breath, pulling into the drop-off line. “Well…”

  Greyson groaned. “Dad, no! It’s too early.”

  “No, this isn’t about the sex thing, it’s just…your two red-headed uncles? That was my family. Someone as dark as me, standing next to them growing up… Well, we just all have our crosses to bear. It takes a while to find your place in the world, Grey.” I grinned at him. “And I found mine in a Brooklyn brownstone, so I’d say I did pretty good, huh?”

  Greyson laughed. “Yeah.” He met my eyes. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Anytime.”

  The drive to my office was shorter than I expected. I let myself in, arriving long before anyone else. That was the thing about driving in New York. You never really knew if getting somewhere would take you two hours or twenty minutes, and there was absolutely no way to predict it.

  It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. I liked having a little extra time in the morning to get myself together. I was at the top of my game and, to stay there, I had to micromanage. An extra hour in the morning to double-check everyone’s work was a gift…sort of.

  I didn’t exactly love my job. Being the director of accounting wasn’t the glamorous lifestyle of the rich and famous, but I was doing better than I’d ever thought I’d be. My childhood self couldn’t have even dreamed up the life I’d built for myself.

  I settled in at my desk and took an appreciative look around. The flawlessly cleaned glass doors, the neat, matching furniture set strategically, placed off-center in the corner. I’d done all of that. I’d made it.

  I had the corner office, the beautiful family, and yet there was still this constant pit in my stomach telling me there was more. Telling me to keep moving. Telling me I wasn’t good enough yet.

  I swallowed it down, sitting up straighter to type at my computer. I wouldn’t let my doubts drown me today, or at least not first thing in the morning.

  My phone chimed in my pocket, and I reached for it, instinctively putting it to my ear before checking the caller ID.

  “Hello?”

  The silence on the other end gave me pause, and I pulled the phone away to read the number on the screen. Two, one, zero. San Antonio. It was a life I’d long since left behind.

  “Hello?” I said again, preparing to hang up.

  “Hello, Antwon. How are you, nephew?”

  A lump formed in my throat, and I tried to clear it. “Auntie Beth?”

  “Oh, good. You remember my voice.”

  I frowned. I hadn’t, but my mother had no family, and Beth was the only person still alive that would call me nephew, unfortunately. She was just as big a mess as her brother. Neither one of them came with anything but damage and heartache.

  “What do you want?” My voice had gone cold, but my heart raced in my chest. I hadn’t spoken to my aunt since I’d left Texas, and I never expected to hear from her again.

  “Still the same old Antwon, I see. Right to the point.”

  I rolled my eyes, nearly ready to hang up on her. My father brought out the worst in me. His family, his associates, everything he ever touched, he left a little bit of poison on.

  “Y
ou need to come home,” she said, making me roll my eyes again.

  “New York is home,” I countered.

  She grumbled something I didn’t catch. “Your father’s dead.”

  I stilled for a moment. “No, he isn’t,” I said with a sigh.

  “Antwon, he’s really gone this time. You need to come home.”

  I opened my mouth to argue with her, to tell her she was delusional if she actually believed Malik was dead, and twice as crazy to think I’d ever go back to Texas. I took a deep breath, ready to hand her ass back to her until she spoke again.

  “It’s time you meet your brother.”

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