by KD Ellis
“Nah, man, go take your break. If you could hold the place down, so can I. We all know I sling better drinks,” Zak teased, already working on pouring a round.
“Better slinger my ass.” Ian pulled the key to the back room out of his pocket and passed it over.
“Finger your ass? In public? Damn, who knew you were kinky.” Zak winked, then shooed him around the bar. “Go take your break before I change my mind.”
Ian gave a half-assed salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”
Zak’s eyes darkened slightly. “Careful, boy, or I’ll be tempted to show you how good it feels on your knees.”
Ian just laughed, not at all scared by the threat. “I can Dom from my knees. Come out back and I’ll prove it.” He waggled his eyebrows salaciously.
It was Zak’s turn to laugh.
Ian slipped into the stockroom, navigating the tightly packed shelves to reach the back door. He left it propped open by a box of olives and stepped into the Austin air. Even at night, it was hot, but at least it was a crisp heat, no humidity to weigh him down. He pulled out his phone and spent a few minutes absently scrolling through Facebook, reading other people’s posts and stories.
He had one more semester left to finish his degree. He felt like he was the only one of his high school buddies still stuck. He was still working the same job he’d worked since he’d turned eighteen and could legally serve alcohol, still drove the same beat-up Chevy—though he wouldn’t trade Sally in for the devil’s own ride—and still lived in the same room he’d grown up in. He could move out if he had to, but the cost of living in Austin was only one reason he stayed at home. Lucas, his younger brother, was quickly becoming a handful.
Ever since his papa’s heart attack had forced him to retire, Lucas hadn’t been the same. Ian suspected much of Lucas’ acting out was a response to his papa’s growing distance. His dad spent more and more time out back in his workshop or planted in front of the television. It was like living with a ghost.
The only one who seemed unaffected was Noa. His younger sister—not quite a child, not fully a teenager—was the same brightly smiling girl as ever. He was afraid that if he left, that would change. Sometimes he felt like he was the only thing holding their family together. He didn’t mind the weight on his shoulders, but he hated the uncertainty. They couldn’t stay like this forever. Eventually, he would finish his business degree and open his own bar, like he’d always dreamed of, and move into his own house, with a husband or wife of his own. He felt the change coming the way he sensed a tornado. The air held the same stillness, the same undercurrent of static raising the hair on his arms.
He closed Facebook and shoved his phone back into his pocket, crossing his arms instead to stare at the dark sky. The only stars he saw were the constellation of fears hiding behind his eyes.
* * * *
It was late when Ian quietly shut the front door behind him. He was halfway upstairs when he heard a loud thunk from the kitchen. He sighed, already knowing what he’d find. He turned around and followed the noise. In the shadows of the kitchen archway, he leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed.
His brother Lucas was sprawled across the kitchen tile, the window over the sink open, the screen out. Ian could smell the alcohol from where he was.
“The door’s unlocked, you know,” Ian said, his voice dry. This wasn’t the first time he’d found his brother like this. He wasn’t old enough to drink, but that didn’t seem to stop him.
Lucas jerked at the sound of Ian’s voice, rolling to his feet before swaying. He squinted and lifted a hand to shadow his eyes, as if the little bit of light from the stove clock was too bright. Ian leaned in, his frown deepening when he noticed his brother’s blown pupils. Great. Drunk and high.
Sighing, he uncrossed his arms and stepped forward, taking his brother by the elbow. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
“I’m thirsty.” Lucas tried to pull his arm away, but Ian didn’t let him.
“I’ll get you some water after you take a shower.” Ian steered him up the stairs, catching him when he tripped partway, then ushered him into the bathroom. It was a struggle getting his younger brother undressed, since Lucas kept stopping to try and pull the clothes back on. Finally, though, he was able to shove the kid under the lukewarm water.
“Shit, it’s hot! Why are you burning me? Am I a lobster? Fuck, are you going to eat me?” Lucas flinched back from the water, arms flailing like he could divert the spray. Whatever his brother was on, it had fucked him up good this time.
“Hold still,” Ian grumbled, not bothering to do more than give his brother a cursory wipe down and a quick lather of shampoo. He knew, unfortunately from experience, that Lucas would soon be racked with sweats and shivers that would render the shower pointless anyway.
After turning off the water, he helped Lucas climb out of the tub. Lucas’ eyes were drooping now. The water had succeeded in sobering him up at least slightly. Ian wiped him down with a towel and escorted him back to his bedroom, helping him into a pair of gym shorts and a nightshirt.
“Get in bed and I’ll get you some water.”
For once, Lucas obeyed without argument, sliding beneath the sheets, his jaw gaping in a yawn. He was asleep by the time Ian brought him up a glass, so he left it on the nightstand. In the morning, he’d talk to Mama again at breakfast about a rehab facility—or at least trying to get the young man into a support group—not that it would help.
Lucas didn’t want to change, and nobody could force him to. Ian felt guilty about it, but sometimes, he thought that it would be best for everyone, his brother especially, if the next time the police found him, they just locked him up. At least he’d get clean in jail.
Chapter Four
“She lost her fucking job.” Teddy kicked his heels against the dark shingles. It was Sunday morning, and he was on the roof of the pool house at the back of the Beckett estate. His head was nestled in the hollow of Shiloh’s hip. A pilfered cigarette dangled between Teddy’s fingers. He dragged in a small puff of smoke, holding it in his chest. The burn centered him. “It took her fourteen months to get this one and she goes and throws it away.”
Shiloh ran his fingers through Teddy’s hair. “That’s what alcoholics do.”
“She’s not an alcoholic,” Teddy snapped instinctively.
Shiloh’s hands stilled against his scalp. “Oh, sorry. Are we still lying about it?”
“She’s not a bad mom,” Teddy shifted against Shiloh until he could look up at him.
The look Shiloh gave him was more tender than pitying, and it was the only thing that kept Teddy from pulling away. “I didn’t say she’s a bad mom. I said she’s an alcoholic.”
Teddy was quiet until the silence grew too heavy. “Yeah.”
“Is she coming to graduation?” Shiloh asked.
Teddy had worked his ass off to get a scholarship to Griffin. They couldn’t have afforded the tuition otherwise. While Teddy had a tidy trust fund left over from his father’s life insurance policy, he couldn’t access it until he was eighteen without his mother’s authorization. Besides, it was already earmarked to pay for his surgery. Without the scholarships, he’d have ended up in public school. He liked to think his mother would be proud enough of his accomplishment to show up, but he honestly doubted she’d remember.
Teddy shrugged, then asked, “What about your dad? Is he coming?”
“Nah. He’s got a conference in New York this weekend.” Shiloh’s thigh shifted beneath Teddy’s head. “Which means I’ll have the house to myself. You’re going to come to my party, yeah?”
“That depends. Are you going to try blowing Matt in the dining room again?” Teddy asked.
“Why? You wanna watch?” Shiloh teased, “Dirty little voyeur…”
Teddy scrunched his nose. “Hmm-m. Do I want to watch my best friend try and swallow a dick, or would I rather shove a curling iron up my ass? I think I’ll take the curling iron for five hundred, Alex.”
“Try? He’s not that big, darling.” Shiloh crooked his pinky for emphasis.
“You say tomato, I say ‘still feels like incest’.” Teddy waggled his brows.
“Will you come if I promise to keep my shenanigans behind closed doors?”
“Only if you promise to never say ‘shenanigans’ again.”
“Deal.” Shiloh tangled his pinky around Teddy’s and shook. “I’ll scratch voyeur off the list.” Shiloh shot him a considering look, “How about exhibitionism? You could blow Matt while I watch…”
Shiloh screeched, ducking Teddy’s attempt to swat him.
* * * *
Teddy craned his neck to see around the curtain into the audience. He was next up to accept his diploma but he hadn’t spotted his mother anywhere. The school had set up the ceremony in the auditorium, and it was already packed with parents.
“Teddy De Luca,” Principal Harris read.
Teddy climbed the stage. The principal shook his hand and handed over the diploma, then Teddy walked off the other side. It was a rather anticlimactic end to four years of hard work.
A crowd of students who’d already crossed the stage lingered in the back. Most had stripped clear of the robes and were chattering excitedly in small groups. Teddy picked his way over to Shiloh. Like the others, Shiloh had removed his robes. Unlike the rest, though, Shiloh had not worn dress attire beneath it. Instead, he wore skin-tight pink leggings and an off-the-shoulder blouse, complete with heels.
Shiloh glanced up from his phone and grinned. “Ready to go?”
“You’re not staying for the brunch?” Teddy asked before pulling off his robe and shoving it into the backpack he’d left by the lighting booth.
“Why would I want to do that?” Shiloh visibly shuddered, like the thought of eating would kill him.
Teddy rolled his eyes. He’d seen Shiloh eat almost a whole pizza by himself, but heaven forbid he try a buffet. “Did you see my mom out there?”
Shiloh’s smile slid off his face. “No. But maybe I just missed her.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Teddy plastered on a grin. “I’m ready.”
Teddy followed Shiloh into the hallway. He paused partway down to peer through one of the side entrances to the auditorium, scanning the chairs again.
“Coming?” Shiloh called from the exit.
“Yeah.” Teddy stepped away, knowing his mother wasn’t out there, and followed Shiloh into the student parking lot. It wasn’t hard to find Shiloh’s car. The yellow Cobra stood out among the black sedans predominantly filling the lot.
Shiloh spun the radio dial up then checked the lot behind them before pulling out and onto the street. Teddy hummed along to the music. Shiloh bleated the lyrics off-key at the top of his lungs while his blond hair whipped around his face.
Shiloh passed the entrance to his subdivision and Teddy frowned. “I thought we were going to your house?”
“Gotta get the liquor first,” Shiloh answered, angling the car into a lot behind a small liquor store.
Teddy’s frown deepened. “You have a fake ID?”
“Nope. The cashier and I have an arrangement.”
Nerves coiled in Teddy’s stomach. “What kind of an arrangement?”
“I give him a blow job and he ignores the date of birth on my license.” Shiloh slid out of the car and went inside before Teddy could do more than grimace.
Teddy ran a nervous hand over the bristles on his scalp, debating on whether or not he should go in and stop Shiloh. It wasn’t like he didn’t know Shiloh was sexually active, but exchanging blow jobs for beer was not the same thing as a fumbling hand-job underneath the bleachers. Before he’d made up his mind, Shiloh exited the liquor store with a smirk and a cart loaded with liquor and beer. Teddy helped Shiloh transfer everything to the back.
“You think you got enough?” Teddy asked sarcastically.
“Probably not, but I told everyone it was a BYOB party, so whatever.” Shiloh shrugged and started the car.
Teddy was quieter than usual on the ride back to Shiloh’s house, still running circles around the ethics of Shiloh’s deal with the cashier.
Shiloh misread his silence and said, “Don’t worry. I got you Coke back at the house. And I think there’s some Dr. Pepper too.”
“Thanks,” Teddy sighed and made an attempt to stop thinking. There wasn’t anything he could do about it, and if Shiloh wasn’t concerned, maybe he shouldn’t be either.
* * * *
Teddy curled up in the armchair next to the cold fireplace. It was stacked high with abandoned paper plates and red Solo cups. Teddy and Shiloh would have to burn them tomorrow. With this many drunk people on the estate, starting a fire now would only lead to a call to the fire department. Teddy was certain he was the only sober one left at the party. He’d already witnessed two girls throwing up in planters and at least one fumbling hand job in the shadows by the stairs.
His eyelids were heavy. Heels on the edge of the seat, he tucked his knees beneath the hem of his sweater, resting his chin atop them. He smothered a yawn. The liquor had emptied over an hour ago, and only a handful of beers still floated around, so surely the party would start to die soon.
A girl in a too-short skirt laughingly swayed her way through the game room. The heel of her shoe caught in the carpeting and she stumbled, landing painfully on top of Teddy. He grimaced as her pointy elbow jabbed into his thigh, but she just giggled, her eyes glazed as they skimmed him up and down.
“Oops! Sorry.” She contorted herself around as she struggled to stand.
He half-helped, half-shoved her off his lap then stood up himself. He left the room and headed upstairs. He followed the hall for several feet until he found Shiloh’s room. The door was open and the light off, so Shiloh must still be downstairs somewhere.
Teddy went inside and closed the door. He dug around the bottom drawer of the dresser, the one that was unofficially his, and pulled out his most comfortable pair of basketball shorts and a baggy shirt. He left his party clothes in a neat stack on the floor.
After flipping off the light, he slid beneath the coverlet. Strands of music drifted up from downstairs, along with intermittent laughter. Teddy pulled the blanket over his head in hopes of filtering out the noise and tried to sleep.
He must have succeeded, because the next thing he knew, he was awakened by the mattress dipping as someone climbed in beside him. Teddy blinked open his eyes and rolled onto his side, coming face-to-face with Shiloh.
The blond boy was smiling sleepily, cinnamon whiskey on his breath as he asked quietly, “Did I wake you?”
“It’s okay. Wasn’t really sleeping,” Teddy murmured back.
It was a sign of how much alcohol remained in Shiloh’s system that he slid closer and asked, voice pleading, “Can we cuddle?” Shiloh always played the tough guy sober, the one who didn’t need anything or anyone—the strong shoulder to cry on, because he never cried.
Teddy nodded and allowed Shiloh to tangle himself around him. There were a messy few moments of drunk and half-sleepy rearrangements before they ended up with Shiloh’s knee tucked between Teddy’s, with Teddy’s head on Shiloh’s arm. Shiloh’s other arm tightened around Teddy’s waist.
“Do you think everyone had fun?” Shiloh asked after several minutes, just as Teddy was nearly drifting off. His voice was quiet, but not soft—brittle, like old glass, like a misstep could shatter it.
“Yeah. I think people had fun.” Teddy smoothed away a strand of Shiloh’s hair in reassurance.
Shiloh shifted closer, pressing his face into Teddy’s neck. His breath was warm against Shiloh’s skin. “Love you,” Shiloh muttered.
“You, too.”
* * * *
“Goddamn it, Shiloh,” a voice bellowed from the doorway, “what did I say before I left?”
Teddy rocketed up, his heart thudding in his throat. Shiloh jerked up as well, knee digging into Teddy’s thigh hard enough to for it to immediately blossom into a bruise. Shiloh’s hair wa
s a halo around his startled face.
“Dad, don’t you know how to knock?” Shiloh asked, clutching his chest.
“Why should I care about your privacy? I walked into my bedroom to find a bevy of drunk teenagers passed out in my bed!” Mr. Beckett bellowed.
“You weren’t supposed to be home until tomorrow. I was going to change the sheets.” Shiloh slid off the mattress, and after grabbing his discarded jeans from the floor, tugged them on. Teddy stayed where he was, hoping that lack of movement would mean lack of notice, as well.
It did, in part. Mr. Beckett didn’t comment on his presence in Shiloh’s bed, but that meant Teddy had to sit through several long minutes of yelling back and forth, until finally, Mr. Beckett slammed his fist down on the nightstand. The alarm clock rattled. “I am done arguing with you. You will clean up the mess your so-called friends left behind when they scattered this morning.”
“Whatever. I was going to do that anyway.” Shiloh crossed his arms mulishly.
“And you’re grounded.”
“Fine!”
“I have another conference tomorrow in Amsterdam. You’ll stay here with Sam. Maybe he can keep you in line.” Mr. Beckett didn’t wait for a response before he stormed out.
Shiloh grew pale. He stared silently at the bedroom door for several seconds before he set his jaw and spun. “Can I stay at your house?”
Teddy shrugged. “I mean, of course you can, but you know it’s not all that…nice.”
“Better than staying here with Sam.” Shiloh’s mouth twisted as he said the lawyer’s name. Teddy didn’t know the story between them, except that whenever Shiloh talked about him, he got a look on his face. Teddy had only met the older man once. He’d seemed pleasant enough.
Teddy helped Shiloh throw clothes into a duffel bag. It seemed like more than he would need for a week, but then, Shiloh liked to change his clothes often. Teddy was worried that they would get caught sneaking out, but nobody was paying attention to them.