by E M Lindsey
“With your past,” Niko told him, “no one can judge you for being a little antsy when your circle grows bigger.”
“Derek always had more visible issues than me, with his panic attacks and claustrophobia. Mine manifested in the weirdest way, and I always felt like I was the buzz-kill whenever I got socially awkward. I know I hold people back,” Sage lifted his hands and rubbed some of the water through his hair, “and it sucks.”
“I doubt anyone thinks that, but I also kind of get it. When I left home and came here, I didn’t let myself get close to anyone. You and Cale, you were the closest friends I had in years.”
“But we weren’t,” Sage began, then cut himself off with a blush. “I just mean…”
“No,” Niko interrupted. “That’s my point. My closest friends were nothing more than a couple of gym buddies I barely knew, and it wasn’t until you dragged me out for beer night that I realized what I was missing. I mean, it didn’t work out with me and your brother, but I ended up getting to know everyone else and it…it made me want more. So, I get it.”
Sage looked at him a long while, then sighed and sat back. “I bet the guys would love it here. Well, maybe not Sam. Getting him here would be a huge pain in the ass, and the hot water wouldn’t be great for him.”
Niko frowned. “Is it like…his injury thing?”
“Yeah. He’s really sensitive to temperatures, but he can’t feel them so he can fuck himself up really bad without realizing it. Hot or cold—it’s kind of a bad combo.”
Niko flushed. “Jesus. I’m glad I…fuck. I’m glad you said something.”
Sage sat up with a small frown. “What are you talking about?”
Niko glanced away, gnawing on his lower lip, then said, “So, a while back he and I went to go blow off some steam at the batting cages. Afterward, I was going to take him to the rink because a buddy of mine said he could get one of the sledge-hockey guys to leave a bucket for him to use. But if he can’t do cold…”
Sage had a strange look on his face, and a smile softer than Niko was expecting. “The rink is fine, man. I meant like, soaking in a hot tub or rolling around in the snow. He can ice skate. You know, as long as it’s not naked ice skating.”
Niko’s mouth lifted on the right side, and he shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed. “Oh.”
“So, you didn’t go?” Sage pressed.
“No. He went a little hard at the cages and we were both damn tired. We ended up grabbing a bite and went back home. To be honest, I was pretty relieved,” he admitted. “I’m not sure I could have skated that night.”
Sage lifted a brow. “Why? You used to play professional hockey, don’t tell me you suck at skating now.”
He laughed, the sound a little tense, and he rubbed the back of his neck and ducked is head. “Uh…I don’t actually know. I haven’t gotten back on the ice since my retirement. I was scared I’d be a hot mess, and I wasn’t sure I could take knowing it was totally gone.”
Sage looked a little concerned, and a lot sympathetic as he waded a little closer to Niko. “You know it doesn’t work like that, right? I mean, if you can run, you can skate, and you don’t just forget everything you spent half your life doing.”
Niko huffed and shrugged one shoulder. “Logically, yeah, but the mind can be a real asshole and I don’t trust the way my brain works sometimes.”
“But you were willing to do it for Sam,” Sage pointed out.
Niko felt his cheeks pink, and he was glad he could probably blame it on the steam. “I guess.”
“Are you into him?” Sage asked after a beat. “I mean, was that night at the cages a date or…”
“It wasn’t,” Niko said, probably a little too quickly, but Sage didn’t entirely look like he wasn’t being fooled. “I was just trying to help him work out some stress from a long week.”
Sage watched him a while, then pushed himself out of the pool and sat on the edge with his legs dangling in the water. “Sam’s a good guy, and I’ve been trying to find someone for him for a long goddamn time. But he’s stubborn, and his daughter means everything. With this whole custody case and the grandparents coming this weekend…”
“Grandparents?” Niko blurted.
Sage hesitated only a second. “Yeah. So DCS got the courts to award Maisy’s paternal grandparents some alone time with her. The lawyer I found for him tried to fight it, but Derek texted earlier and said that the case worker won an afternoon of unsupervised visits.”
“Shit,” Niko breathed out. That was why Sam was texting. Niko felt a little twisted in his gut at the thought that Sam was using him to distract himself from the pain, but he also felt a little like he’d do anything to help Sam take his mind off the shit-show happening in his life. “Is he okay?”
Sage shrugged. “Best as he can be, considering the circumstances.”
Niko hated hiding what he and Sam had, because right now, all he wanted was for Sage to understand that he needed to get into the car and drive back down to Fairfield. Only, he wasn’t being asked to do that. Not by Sam, not by anyone. He had no rights and no privileges beyond what Sam had extended him. A secret booty-call, and he knew full well it wasn’t going to be enough.
* * *
Walking back into the room, Niko shifted the take away bags to the crook of his elbow as he threw the keys on the little desk. He came to a stuttered halt when he saw Sage leaning over one of the beds, throwing his clothes into the suitcase.
“Uh?” he said a little dumbly.
Sage looked up and blinked for a second. “Sorry. Shit. I should have texted. I need to take off. Things are going kind of tits up at home, so I figured I’d hop the bus and…”
“No,” Niko interrupted, setting the food down and walking to his bed. “You’re not taking the bus, dude. Let’s hit the road.”
Sage frowned at him. “You paid for two more nights, man.”
Niko gave him a flat look. “So?”
“So, that’s two nights wasted. It’s not like they’re going to give you a refund.”
Niko raised a brow, but when Sage didn’t catch on, he sighed and went back to grabbing his bag. “I have millions. Multiple millions, Sage. I don’t care if I lose two nights at a hotel. I’m not going to let you take the bus home.” He dropped the handful of clothes he’d unpacked, then stopped and walked around the bed to face Sage. “But are you ready to go home. I know it’s family, but you needed to get out. Are you going to be okay when we go back there?”
Sage softened and shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, a few more days would have been nice, but I swear I’m good. And I really don’t want you to take off just because my shit hit the fan.”
Niko snorted a laugh and shook his head, going back to packing up. “You know what’s more pathetic than being at a couple’s resort with my gym-buddy? Staying at a couple’s resort alone after my gym-buddy had to take off back home. I promise, I’d rather be at my place soaking in my tub than here watching people suck faces in the sulfur pools.”
Sage’s eyes went a little dark, and he zipped up his bag before walking a few steps closer. “Niko, you’re not just some gym buddy. At least, not to me. Not since we started hanging out and actually talking. Hell, you know more about me than some of the guys I’ve known for years. Okay? My family comes first, but you’re important too. I wouldn’t just leave you if I didn’t have to.”
“I get it,” Niko said, something in him softening and feeling lighter than he had in years. He managed a genuine smile as he finished grabbing their chargers and then made for the bathroom to grab what he’d left in there. “Trust me, there’s enough work to occupy me at home, and I give a shit about your family too. So don’t feel guilty.”
Sage nodded but didn’t entirely look like he was ready to believe Niko. All the same, he got to work finishing up, and Niko went down to check out and then they hit the road. There was a new connection between them now, something close to what Niko had been looking for, and he was pretty sure there was no turning bac
k.
Chapter Sixteen
Sam stared at the entrance to the restaurant, feeling like someone had stuffed his guts full of heavy boulders. The only reason he could even breathe was the fact that Maisy was safely tucked away inside Tony and Kat’s house, and wouldn’t have to make the introductions until the morning. He couldn’t see through the tinted window, but something was telling him the grandparents were watching him as he hesitated.
He looked to his left where Derek stood, his hands flexing, like he was wanting to reach out but stopped himself at the last second. Rowan was already inside, thank god. He had arranged the entire meeting, and all Sam had to do was show up.
Derek caught his gaze and his eyes softened. “Do you want me to go with you?”
Sam let out a tiny sigh and shook his head. “I need to do this. If I can’t show up on my own, how the hell am I going to convince them that Maisy is safe in my care. I mean, I have to prove that I’m capable as a paralyzed man, as a man with a non-traditional job, and as a gay single dad. That’s a fucking lot.”
Derek laughed quietly under his breath. “It is. You’re like the diversity poster-child.”
“Fuck off,” Sam grumbled, and Derek closed the distance between them, grabbing Sam’s shoulders and leaning in to press a soft, chaste kiss on his mouth.
“It’s going to be fine,” he said in a very low voice. “You’re going to go in there and have a drink and woo the pants off those people. And if you don’t, you still have all of us and Rowan in your corner. For now, Maisy isn’t going anywhere.”
For now. Those two words hung in the air like the damned Sword of Damocles and he knew it was only a matter of time before the thread broke and it plunged into him. Except— maybe not. He couldn’t shake the story Rowan had told him, couldn’t help but feel Rowan’s passion for the entire thing, and it gave Sam a strength and courage he wasn’t expecting to have in this situation.
“I’m good,” he finally said.
Derek squeezed his shoulders once more, then took a step back. “Go get’em killer.”
“Go fuck yourself, asshole,” Sam retorted with a grin. He gripped his wheels, then took one last look at Derek before heading for the door. One of the hostesses scrambled to get the door open ahead of him, and instead of fighting her on it, he just gave her a small smile and moved in. “I’m expecting someone over…” He trailed off when he spotted Rowan to the left, in the nearly empty dining room half of the restaurant.
He was standing beside a table in the middle of the restaurant with one chair missing, the other two occupied by an elderly couple. They were fairly non-descript. Both of them had dark hair peppered with heavy grey, aged lines on their faces, wearing well-ironed clothes and looking just so. They stood out like a sore thumb in a place like Fairfield where even the elderly population tended to favor cargo shorts and beaded skirts and hiking gear.
He licked his lips nervously, then nodded and headed around a couple of tables, most of them just barely far enough apart for him to get through. It wasn’t a place he normally ate, and he thought maybe he had actually tried once, and found the dining room too much of a pain in the ass to do it again.
Still, he made it to the table without incident, and he bristled a little bit when the couple stared openly at him but didn’t bother to stand up. He caught Rowan’s frown, but neither of them mentioned it.
“Nice to meet you,” Sam said. He extended his hand to the woman—Rose Attley, and then to her husband Chuck. They stared at him the way a lot of people did, like maybe his paralysis was catching. Then she cleared her throat and took his hand over the table, her husband following suit, though it was brief. “I’m Sam.”
“Yes, that Miss Beth Parker gave us your name,” Rose began.
“Maisy’s case worker,” Sam filled in.
Rose wrinkled her nose up. “Right. Maisy.”
Sam stared at her with a frown. “Is the name an issue?”
“No, I just…seems an…interesting name for a little girl. Did you choose it?” she asked, sugary sweet and entirely false.
Sam realized this meeting was going exactly how he predicted, and none of that was a good thing. He felt his smile strain a little. “No, that was her name when I picked her up. I’m not sure who gave it to her.”
“Well, likely not her mother,” Rose said, looking like she was fighting back a grimace. “Your cousin was so hopped up on drugs, she left the hospital without her baby, so I doubt she remembered to give her a name.”
Sam breathed slowly out through his nose. “I wouldn’t know. I didn’t know my cousin and wasn’t aware of Maisy until she was several months old.”
“It’s a wonder they called you, isn’t it?” Chuck asked, his voice gruff.
Sam couldn’t help his smile going a little wider and maybe a little meaner. “Well, I guess they didn’t have much choice. Your son was in prison, so he was no use to her, and everyone else on your side of the family turned her case worker down, including you, if I remember right.”
Chuck bristled. “Now, we couldn’t be sure that baby was David’s, no matter what that birth certificate said.”
Sam raised a brow at him. “And yet, here you are now.”
Rose and Chuck both looked like they’d swallowed a lemon, and Sam took the opportunity to look over at Rowan who was trying not to beam. After a beat, Rowan cleared his throat and stood up. “I’m going to head over to the bar and get a soda and an appetizer. Unless you’d like me to stay?”
Sam waved him off. “It’s fine. We’ll just get to know each other for a little bit, then we can talk shop.”
Rowan winked at him. “Let me know if you need anything.” He gave the top of the table a quick double-pat, then walked off. Rose and Chuck watched him with eagle eyes as he moved to out of earshot, and then they turned back to him.
“You must know why we’re here,” Chuck said.
Sam cocked his head to the side. “Well, it did make me wonder, since I’ve had her for three years and no one on your side of the family has bothered to check in on her. I assume it has everything to do with the case-worker trying to stop my petition for adoption.”
“We were made aware of it,” Rose said slowly, like she was considering her words. “No one is doubting the care you’ve given our granddaughter, and we of course thank you for it. But after a long discussion, Chuck and I thought it might be a good idea to take her ourselves. She’ll have a chance to get to know her father, and when he gets out of prison, he’ll be able to raise her, give her a real family.”
If Sam had been holding his fork, he would have bent it in half. As it was, his knuckles ached viciously from how tight he was clenching his fists. “Your son is a sex-offender. He had sex with, and impregnated, a teenager.”
“That relationship was consensual,” Rose hissed.
“Your son was twenty-three, and she was sixteen. There is no legal consent, which was why he was charged and convicted of statutory rape,” Sam said through clenched teeth. “And that was just one of his charges, of which he is serving another, what, seven years before he has the possibility of parole? Which means she won’t be able to have whatever warped version of happy family you think this will be until she’s ten. What kind of life is that for her?”
“And you think you’re better?” Chuck asked, his voice rising before his wife elbowed him gently. He cleared his throat. “We know all about you.”
Sam folded his hands on the table and met their pointed stare. “Do tell.”
“Your … your job,” Chuck said, waving at Sam’s barely exposed forearms. “That ain’t no life for a kid.”
Sam raised a brow. “What? You think I let her hang out all day in the shop? Hand her a tattoo machine? You think she’s got a heart with Dad in the center tattooed on her arm?”
Chuck spluttered and Rose leaned forward slightly over him. “It’s not exactly a respectable profession, is it?”
“In the way that it pays my bills and affords her preschool tuition,
new clothes, food, toys, and anything she might hope to want—yeah. I’d say it’s respectable,” Sam retorted flatly.
Rose blinked. “And your lifestyle…”
“What lifestyle is that?” Sam demanded. “The one where we spend every Sunday watching Princess Sophia, then go to the park to feed the ducks? Then we head to the farmer’s market and pick up fresh produce and I show her how I make one new veggie dish per week? Or is it the high-end pre-school she attends where she’s already learned to count past a hundred and write her own name? Or is it the nightly bedtime stories? Or how I sit and have a tea party with her whenever she wants? Or is it…”
“We saw you outside,” Chuck interrupted, his face slightly pink.
Sam’s jaw snapped shut and he stared openly. “You saw me what? In my wheelchair?”
“With that man. Kissing,” Chuck clarified, looking vaguely disgusted.
“Oh.” Sam sat back and huffed a laugh. “So, you’re homophobic. Got it. Well, two things—one, that man is my best friend and Maisy’s godfather. He loves her as much as I do. That kiss was him giving me some platonic affection, because I knew today wasn’t going to go well, and he cares about me.”
Chuck narrowed his eyes and looked vaguely disgusted. Then he cleared his throat and asked, “And the second thing?”
Sam shrugged. “I am gay. I don’t presently have a boyfriend, but I absolutely am gay, and it doesn’t matter because that does not disqualify me from taking care of a child.”
“We’ll see,” Rose said.
Sam laughed. “I think you might be forgetting what state we live in, sweetheart. Believe me when I say homophobia isn’t going to fly in court here. You might want to talk to your lawyer about that one.”
They both paled a little, and though every single insecurity over losing Maisy was being triggered, he felt slightly triumphant that he’d managed to shut them up. He glanced at the server who had been hovering nearby, looking slightly terrified of the situation, and he waved her over.