by Mari Carr
“So, how’s your love life?” Padraig asked, wiping the counter.
Gavin glanced around and realized the place was pretty empty at the moment. The majority of the business was next door on Sunday’s Side as the happy hours had faded into dinnertime, so obviously Padraig was looking for some company himself.
“Nonexistent,” Gavin said.
The lights flickered for a minute, and Padraig shook his head. “Damn.” Then he counted, “Three, two, one.”
Just as he hit one, Riley came into the pub. “Goddammit,” she said as she approached the bar. “I did it again.”
Padraig grinned as he stepped out from behind the counter and headed toward the storage closet in the back. “Yeah. I figured that out. Be right back.”
“What’s going on?” Gavin asked.
“One of the outlets in the kitchen stopped working. I keep overloading the ones that do work and flipping the breaker. Poor Paddy’s had to run to the storage closet four times today to flip it back,” Riley explained. “Ewan’s got a call in to an electrician, but he can’t get here until early next week.”
Gavin tilted his head. “And it never occurred to you to ask me to take a look?”
Riley waved him away. “You just got home from work. It’s fine.”
“Riley—” Gavin started.
“All fixed,” Padraig said, rejoining them.
“Thanks, Paddy.” Then Riley put her hands on her hips when she saw his pint glass. “You have dinner yet?”
He shook his head. He’d intended to head straight up to the apartment, but he’d been waylaid by the news about his mother and then annoyed enough that beer sounded better than food. “I’ll microwave some soup when I get upstairs.”
“Canned soup?”
He nodded.
“No, you won’t. Stay there. Canned soup…” she muttered with disgust. “I’ll bring you real soup.”
“What about the outlet?” he asked.
“It’ll keep until this weekend. You can fix it then,” Riley called out over her shoulder.
Gavin grinned when Padraig reclaimed his position across the bar from him. “Apparently I’m having dinner down here tonight.”
Padraig laughed. “You’ve been around enough years to know that food is love in Riley’s world.” He glanced up when the bell over the door jingled and a couple walked in. “Finally, some customers.” Padraig grabbed a couple menus as he led the patrons to a table and took their drink order.
Riley returned with the food. “Eat,” was all she said as she put the steaming bowl of cream of crab soup in front of him, along with a basket of fresh-baked rolls. His mouth watered just looking at it.
“Damn,” he murmured appreciatively, which appeared to be all the thanks Riley needed. She patted him on the back and laughed before walking back to the kitchen.
Gavin made a mental note to get up early Saturday morning to fix her outlet for her. Doing construction, he’d had plenty of opportunities to work with the electricians they hired. He’d even considered doing a full-time apprenticeship to become a journeyman after high school, but Oliver was determined the two of them were going to take over the construction company together once Justin, Killian, and Sean retired. They needed to “keep it in the family,” Oliver liked to say.
Gavin dug into the soup with gusto, savoring every single bite. Emmy continued to type away, her fingers racing over the keyboard the only sound besides the quiet chatter of the patrons scattered throughout the pub. As he ate, he realized he was no longer stressed out, and he knew exactly why.
No matter how long he remained with the Collins family, welcomed as one of their own, there was a part of him that simply never stopped being awed by their kindness. He’d spent too many of his formative years with a mother who fluctuated between abuser and taker.
His mother, who was fragile on good days, had been truly terrifying when in the midst of one of her black rages. It had taken years of being away from her before he realized that she’d never—not once—given him anything truly resembling what others considered motherly love. No hugs, smiles, or even a damn bowl of soup.
While his mom told him she loved him, it was always wrapped up in subtle controlling phrases like, “you’re all I have” or “there’s no one else to take care of me.” And Gavin had soaked up those phrases, believing they were genuine professions of love, when in truth, they were simple manipulations to ensure Gavin cooked and cleaned—and even stole money when they were broke.
Too many times, he’d been moved out of the house when a teacher caught sight of his bruises. Some of the foster homes where he’d been placed prior to moving in with Sean, Lauren, and Chad hadn’t been much better than the apartment he’d shared with his mom.
There were some people—like Oliver’s parents—who were in the foster system for all the right reasons. Because they cared about kids, wanted to make a difference in someone’s life, wanted to show children who’d been kicked to the curb that they were worthy of love. But there were just as many of the other kind. The ones who took in foster kids for the monthly check provided by CPS, and he’d lived with plenty of those during his childhood.
Gavin put some butter on one of the hot rolls and sighed happily. He might not be used to the concept of mothering, but he sure as shit still loved the way Lauren and the Collins aunts continually offered him that kind of unconditional love.
He’d just finished dinner when he heard someone call his name.
“Hey, Gavin.”
Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Layla waving to him to join her. Picking up his mug, he crossed the bar.
“Hey, Layla. What’s up?”
“Just waiting on my fellas to get here. We decided to hell with dinner. We’re ordering appetizers and drinks and calling it a night.”
He laughed. “Rough day?”
Layla shrugged. “Not really. More like none of us felt like cooking and cleaning up. Did you already eat?”
“Had a bowl of Riley’s cream of crab soup, but I wouldn’t say no to some cheese fries if that’s on your list of apps.”
“Cheese fries are—and always will be—number one on the appetizer list. Sit down and join us.” Layla looked up and smiled when Padraig placed a glass of wine in front of her. “The guys will be here in a minute. Miguel said he’s in a PBR mood, which means Finn will want the same.”
Padraig nodded, then pointed to Gavin’s nearly empty glass. “Going in for a second round?”
“Hell yeah.” Gavin thanked Padraig before he returned to the bar. “How are things at the coffee shop?”
Layla had moved away from Philadelphia and her large brood of brothers a couple years earlier after purchasing the Daily Grind, a coffee shop just a few blocks from the pub.
“The coffee business is always good…mercifully,” she said.
“There you are.” Miguel bent over and gave Layla a quick kiss on the cheek before claiming the chair on her right.
Finn was only a few steps behind him. “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he murmured to Layla as he opted for a longer kiss on her lips.
“Good to see you, Gavin,” Miguel said. “You joining us for app night?”
He nodded. “Layla promised me cheese fries.”
Finn laughed. “That’s my girl. I’m starving. Might need two plates of fries tonight.”
Gavin leaned back, enjoying the easy conversation as they all talked about work, the upcoming holidays, and the sudden chill in the weather. Finn and Miguel helped Layla brainstorm gift ideas for her brothers.
Gavin watched the way the three of them were with each other, the relationship reminding him of the one shared by his foster parents. Before coming to live with Lauren, Sean, and Chad, Gavin had never considered, never even realized, people could live in committed threesome relationships, but there was no denying that it worked for all of them.
Oliver hoped for the same relationship. Hell, his best friend hoped for the same relationship with him—but Gavin wasn’t wi
red that way. And he was convinced the reason Layla, Finn, and Miguel’s relationship worked was because they were all together. They weren’t two separate couples trying to blend into a threesome.
Gavin was gay, and yes, he was attracted to—and probably in love with—Oliver more than he cared to admit. And while Oliver had feelings for him too, he was just as much in love with Erin. The problem was, Gavin and Erin could never be anything more than friends. And try as he might, Gavin couldn’t see that working in the long term.
What if jealously emerged somewhere down the road?
Or what if one of the couples fell out of love?
What would keep the three of them together?
They finished their appetizers and Finn paid the bill, refusing to allow Gavin to chip in, so he promised the next time was on him.
“Are we missing a party?”
Gavin looked up at the sound of Oliver’s voice, surprised to discover he and Erin weren’t alone.
“Look who we found outside,” Erin said.
Gavin forced a smile when he spotted Brad, a male nurse who worked with Erin at Hopkins. Brad had discovered the pub a few months ago, and since then, he’d become somewhat of a regular.
“Hey, Brad,” Gavin said.
“Not sure you missed a party, but I’m afraid you missed the cheese fries,” Layla said with a yawn. “We were just heading home. I gotta be up early to open the shop.”
She, Finn, and Miguel all rose and, after a few minutes of chatting with Erin and Oliver, they said their goodbyes.
“The three of us were going to grab some stools at the bar and have a drink,” Oliver said. “Want to keep going?”
Gavin considered it, then shook his head, as Erin and Brad claimed their seats, the two of them laughing over something Padraig said that Gavin didn’t hear.
Brad was a good-looking guy, with a good sense of humor. He was also bi. As Gavin watched him with Erin, it occurred to him that Brad would be the perfect third in Oliver and Erin’s relationship.
Maybe he should give them some time alone to figure that out.
“No, man,” he said at last. “I’m kind of tired. Think I’ll call it a night.”
Oliver looked ready to persist, but Gavin must have given him a look that proved it would be fruitless. “Okay. We’re just having one. Erin and I will be up in a half an hour.”
“Take your time. Brad’s a good guy, a lot of fun.”
Oliver rolled his eyes. “Stop.”
Gavin narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“We don’t need you playing matchmaker.”
Gavin lifted one shoulder casually. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Mmmhmm,” Oliver hummed.
Gavin brushed Oliver’s suspicions aside. “I’m grabbing a shower and then hitting the sheets.”
“I’ll see you in the morning then.” Oliver walked to the bar, claiming the spot next to Brad. The other man placed his hand on the back of Oliver’s high-backed stool and leaned in to say something. Oliver cracked up, his loud, boisterous, infectious laughter filling the pub.
Typically, the sound made Gavin laugh as well, but tonight it just made him…sad.
Then he thought about his mother, and his mood darkened even more.
Just like that, the tension was back in his shoulders.
“Fuck,” he murmured.
Fuck it all.
4
Erin wiped the kitchen counter, while Gavin put the leftovers in the fridge. It was Friday, which meant dinner and a movie at home with Erin and Oliver, a tradition they’d started shortly after Valentine’s Day, when Erin had asked Gavin to give her a chance. Nowadays, he struggled to remember a time when she wasn’t one of his best friends, and he was ashamed of himself for acting like such a tool at the beginning.
They’d just polished off the better part of the beef stew Erin had made—God, she could cook—and Oliver had slipped away to grab a shower and change out of his work clothes. Erin kept a drawer of comfy clothes in Oliver’s room, and the first thing she’d done after arriving at their apartment was strip off her scrubs and don a soft, long-sleeved T-shirt and yoga pants. Knowing her, he figured she was about five minutes away from stripping off her bra as well.
She’d done enough sleepovers with Oliver that Gavin was used to her unfastening her bra at random times and pulling the straps off through her shirt sleeves. He’d called it a cool trick the first couple of times she’d shed the lacy material without revealing so much as an inch of skin.
“You’ve been quiet tonight,” she said, when Gavin pulled three beers from the refrigerator, popping the caps and handing her one. “You feeling okay?”
“Yeah. It’s just been a long week.” He was relieved his mother hadn’t attempted to contact him. Then he figured she probably didn’t know where he was or how to reach him.
If there was one thing that didn’t exist in the Collins family, it was a secret. So Gavin appreciated that neither Padraig nor Aaron appeared to have told anyone else about his mom’s release.
For the past few nights, he’d lain awake trying to imagine seeing her again, playing it out in his mind. He’d had years to consider their reunion, but as he’d grown older, the visions of it continually changed. When he was fifteen, all he’d wanted was to see her again, to go home. However, as more time passed, as he’d grown closer to Oliver, Sean, Lauren, and Chad, he’d started to see his childhood in a different light, and the anger, resentment, and guilt associated with those memories ate at him like cancer.
Right now, Gavin was torn between telling her off or… He swallowed heavily. He was terrified he’d revert to type and do what he’d always done.
Forgive her.
Give her a chance to make things up to him.
Reassume the caregiver role.
Gavin had never been able to hold on to his anger toward her, even after the most brutal of the beatings. Instead, she would shed what he now believed were crocodile tears, blame her anger on her loneliness or sadness, remind him he was all she had, and somehow, she’d always find a way to convince him the beating would never have happened if he hadn’t done X, Y, or Z.
And in the end, because Gavin hated to see her cry, he’d tell her it was okay. Then, because he’d wanted the peaceful times to last, he’d go out of his way to take care of her, cooking meals, cleaning the apartment, stealing money and food.
Sometimes, he struggled to mesh the Gavin he’d been growing up with the man the Collins family had raised him to be. None of them, not even Oliver, knew about the things he’d done to survive…or the things he might have done.
The night he’d run away from his mother after she’d sliced his arm with the knife, he’d been stopped by their creepy landlord and handed an eviction notice. The fucking asshole had insinuated he would look the other way on the late rent if Gavin blew him. Gavin had shoved the guy away, but he’d woken up in a cold sweat too many nights in the ensuing months, wondering if he would have gone through with it if the cops hadn’t been called and his mom committed.
He couldn’t believe how all of the shit going down around him had felt normal at the time.
Now, he was disgusted by it, even though deep inside, he knew he’d had no choice.
No. That was wrong.
He’d had a choice—he could have confided in his social worker or teachers, but he hadn’t. Because in his young mind, there wasn’t anything better on the other side.
Better the devil you knew and all that.
What was he going to say to his mom now? Too many times he’d played it out, imagined that this time, he would be able to unload every single hate-filled emotion on her, that he’d finally be able to tell her just how much she’d hurt him.
But he was terrified of unleashing all of that, of taking the lid off a fury he’d spent all of his life keeping bottled up.
He wouldn’t be like his mother. He couldn’t spew horrible things, couldn’t inflict that much pain on someone he…
Fuck. Someone he loved.
How could he love her? How could he still love her after everything?
If he never saw her, he’d never have to risk losing sight of the man he’d become without her in his life.
So yeah…it would be a hell of a lot easier if the reunion never happened.
“You sure you’re okay?” Erin asked, and he realized he’d let the silence between them linger a little too long.
He nodded, hoping she didn’t see through the lie. Gavin hadn’t told Oliver about his mother’s release from the psychiatric hospital. It had been on the tip of his tongue to do so all week, but every time he opened his mouth to say it, he couldn’t do it. Probably because his emotions were all over the fucking scale and he didn’t know what to say.
As for Erin, well…he’d never said anything to her about his past or his mother other than she was gone forever, letting her assume his mom was dead.
Since the subject of his mother came up so infrequently, it really hadn’t been an issue.
Until now.
“I’m sure. Just tired.”
The two of them walked to the living room. Erin claimed her usual spot on the couch she shared with Oliver, while Gavin took the recliner. “Since you’re not in a chatty mood, I think we should talk about me. Because as you know, everything about me is fascinating.”
Gavin laughed, perfectly aware of why Oliver was so head over heels in love with her. Erin was genuinely fun to be with. She’d taken to calling him her best gay friend, while Oliver was her best boyfriend, and Layla, her best cousin friend. Erin liked to tease them, saying that she had so many best friends because she was, in her own words, “a goddamned national treasure.”
And because she wasn’t wrong, he, Oliver, and Layla always let the joke stand.
“Okay, so let’s dive in here,” he said. “What part of the Erin saga haven’t we covered tonight, because I can’t imagine there’s much we’ve missed? You barely came up for air at dinner.”
Erin had entertained him and Oliver at dinner with a recounting of her rather exciting workday in the E.R. Apparently three men had all been transported to the hospital, bloodied and bruised after an argument over a football game turned violent. The EMTs who’d responded to the call had erroneously believed the fight to be over, so when it erupted again in the waiting room, it had taken two doctors and three security guards to pull them all apart.