Robby (Cooper Construction Book 3)

by Jen Davis

  He offered his hand. “Paul Foster. I’m a pastor at the Episcopal church a few streets over. My husband Chris and I run this place.”

  Robby accepted the handshake. “Robby Jordan. You’re doing important work.”

  The reverend nodded. “Where are you from, son?”

  Just thinking about Sherman made Robby break out in a cold sweat. “Um, a small town a few hours from here. You’ve never heard of it.”

  “I might. Try me.”

  Robby swallowed, his eyes already scanning for the exit. “I don’t like to talk about it.”

  “Stop giving him the third degree, Paul.” Sara’s chiding was gentle but effective. “I think Robby might be willing to help out as a volunteer, maybe mentor some of the street kids.”

  “Really?” Paul raised his eyebrows. “Excellent. We’re always looking for volunteers. Sara will get you started.” With a wave, he went back to the cubicle where he’d been working.

  Robby bit back a sigh of relief. “The guy’s really a pastor?” he asked under his breath. “Old Reverend Green would have an aneurism over a man of God married to another man.”

  His childhood preacher had been all hellfire and brimstone. Old Testament through and through. All of his sermons felt like a warning about what would happen to anyone who strayed from just the right path. It was a miracle Robby managed to hold on to his faith all these years, despite the damage his old church had done to his heart.

  “Paul’s the real deal.” Sara pulled out one of the heavy wooden chairs and sat down. “So is this place. I think you could make a difference here.”

  “Me? I barely made it out of my teens alive. All the stuff I did? What I lived through? I’d make a terrible role model.”

  She tilted her head. “You said it yourself. You lived through it. The same things they’re trying to live through right now. You made it to the other side. And you made an impression on me, which isn’t easy to do. Just think about it.” Grabbing his hand, she pulled him toward the cubicle where Paul had stepped in. “In the meantime, there are plenty of other things you can do to help. How are you with paperwork? I’ll introduce you to Chandler, our outreach organizer. He can always use some help.”

  Now she was speaking his language. “I’m a pro. Just hand me a clipboard and point me in the right direction.” Sara could kill two birds with one stone. Pawn off her paperwork and help him avoid thinking about a rocky past both distant and far too recent for comfort.

  ***

  Thanks to a head-clearing day of distraction at the Q-Center, by Monday morning, Robby had almost convinced himself he could ignore everything that had happened between him and Matt both Friday and Saturday nights. They’d been friends before, and they would keep being friends now. And friends didn’t judge. Not for ill-advised kisses or drunken jealousy. Or even admitting a drug problem.

  What the hell had he been thinking, sharing some of his shame?

  He should’ve gone to a meeting last night.

  Taking a deep breath, he relished the last few moments of solitude before the rest of the team arrived at the work site. Flipping to the back page on his clipboard, he scribbled one of his favorite affirmations.

  God forgives my wrongdoings and never remembers my sins.

  It was from Hebrews. He’d always been more partial to the New Testament.

  Maybe it wasn’t fair to expect Matt to take the high road to the same degree as his Heavenly Father, but one could always hope.

  Hope is a many splendored thing.

  He squinted at what he wrote.

  “It’s love,” Kane thundered as he read over his shoulder.

  Instinct pulled the clipboard to his chest, but Kane had already walked over to the corner of the unfinished garage and set his cooler on the floor. He winked as he popped open a can of Red Bull. “Love Is a Many Splendored Thing. It was a movie in the fifties.”

  Oh yeah. William Holden.

  He tried to imagine Kane watching the classic romance and failed. The confusion must have been obvious because Kane chuckled. “Mandy watches all kind of weird shit these days. I blame the pregnancy hormones. Besides, if it gives me an excuse to cuddle up next to her on the sofa, I’m not gonna turn it down.”

  “Yeah, well. You shouldn’t read someone’s personal papers,” Robby huffed. “It’s rude.”

  “Rude? Sounds like Kane’s up to his old tricks.” Brick ruffled Robby’s hair as he moved to stand by the cooler. “You fucking with Robby, man?”

  Kane downed the small can of caffeine and tossed it into the trash barrel beside him. “Nothing worth getting anybody’s panties in a wad.”

  Brick gave him an appraising look but said nothing before he turned his attention to Robby. “Everything else okay?”

  Nope.

  “Sure,” Robby said brightly. “Everything’s fine.”

  Brick raised his eyebrow. “Fine, huh?”

  The room fell silent as Matt walked in.

  The man flashed him a tentative smile, then nodded to the other guys as he moved into the house.

  Kane whistled. “What’s going on there? I think I just saw the closest thing to an expression that dude’s had on his face in the past year.”

  Brick elbowed him in the ribs. “Stop teasing.”

  Some of the tension eased from his stiff shoulders. It was hard to be uptight around these two. “It’s okay. We’ve been hanging out. He’s a friend.” As much as he’d like it to be more, friendship was no small thing.

  “Does he talk and shit?”

  A poet, Kane was not.

  “Yes.” Robby narrowed his eyes. “We talk. We play PlayStation. He even came over to hang out at my apartment the other night.”

  Kane waggled his eyebrows, and Brick elbowed him again. “Fuck, brother, that shit hurts.”

  Robby laughed. “You’d better stop talking and get working in the attic before you end up with bruises you have to explain to your wife.”

  ***

  Matt

  Memories of his old roommate had plagued Matt ever since Robby’s drunken revelation. Honestly, with their kiss, the new job, his civil conversation with Patty, and Robby’s admission, Matt’s head was reeling. It was hard to focus on just one thing.

  But how many times had he blown off the warning signs with Shawn? Put his homework first? Or plans with Patty? Or dinner at his mom’s?

  How many times did he promise himself he would ask if Shawn was okay when the guy came home wasted or passed out? They’d only lived together a few months, but Matt had known something was wrong. The guy was like two different people when he was high versus when he wasn’t. In the last few weeks of his life, he’d lost so much weight, a stiff wind would’ve knocked him over.

  Still, Matt put off a conversation about it. He didn’t ask any questions. And he found Shawn one Sunday morning, dead on the living room floor, a needle still hanging from his arm.

  He wouldn’t make the same mistake again. This time, he’d be there for his friend even if it was uncomfortable. Even if he didn’t think of him entirely as a friend at all.

  Resolved, he tracked Robby down in the trailer outside of the house. “You got a minute, Rob?”

  Robby looked up from the papers on his desk. A blush stained his cheeks and a wooden smile flashed across his face. “Sure. Did you have a good day at the bar yesterday? You had your boy this weekend, right?”

  “Yes. To both questions.” Matt closed the door behind him and took a seat across from Robby. He swallowed down his nerves. “I want to talk about you, if it’s okay.”

  Robby’s gaze swept down, and he began rearranging the plans and office supplies around him. “I’m cool. I just overdid things a little. It happens. No big deal.”

  The temptation to accept the brush-off rose like a tidal wave, but the memory of Shawn’s slack face tamped it down. “I’m kind of new to having friends, so I’m probably doing this all wrong. But I’m going to get up in your business for a minute.”

  The only so
und in the room was the quiet hum of the air conditioning. Robby sat frozen, silent. Like ignoring Matt’s words would make him unsay them.

  “I want you to know I am here for you. If you’re struggling with drugs or booze or…anything. You can call me anytime. We can talk or play games or hang out. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

  Robby looked up, his expression neutral. “I haven’t done drugs in a long time. Years.” He exhaled. “I don’t really drink anymore either. Saturday, obviously, was an exception.”

  “Did you—did I have anything to do with your slip? Was it the kiss or Patty or—”

  “No.” Robby clenched his jaw and tugged against his collar.

  His answer was emphatic, but Matt couldn’t tell if it was truthful.

  Robby’s gaze flicked to the door, back to Matt, then the door again. Clearly, he wanted out.

  “Listen, man, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Matt leaned forward. “Just promise me, you’ll reach out if you need me. Please.”

  Robby stopped looking the door and met Matt’s stare. “I will. I promise.”

  Chapter THIRTEEN

  Robby

  Matt leaned back in his chair with Robby’s assurance. His attempt to reach out was both awkward and sweet. And mortifying.

  Flexing his fingers, Matt bobbed his head a little, like there was music in the room only he could hear. “I—I heard some of the Battlefield maps were on sale today.”

  They’d been on sale almost twenty-four hours, but it didn’t take a genius to see Matt was trying. The games were a safe topic and easy way to an extend an olive branch.

  Matt tapped his foot in a patter against the floor, his entire leg shaking with the staccato movement.

  His nerves eased some of Robby’s own. “Really? We can check ’em out tonight if you’re not too busy with the baby.”

  The bouncing stopped. “Nah. He’s back with his mom. I’d like to hang out a lot.” Matt glanced down at the plans. “Hey, are these the proposals for the custom build on Maple?”

  “Yeah.” Robby frowned. “I think they’re still trying to figure out how to work in something weird the client wanted to do with the second floor. Some kind of rooftop deck? I dunno.”

  Matt rubbed his chin. “I’ve actually got an idea about the proposal. There are a couple of sketches in my car if you think they might help.”

  “Awesome.” This time, Robby’s grin was real.

  It didn’t waver as he followed Matt down the steps, but it fell away as he came face to face with the very last person he expected to find at work.

  John Porter stood with his polished loafers in the center of the muddy construction site. He’d folded the sleeves of his button-down shirt to his elbows. The shirt was tucked neatly into his pressed black slacks. He crossed his arms and gave off a cool expression as he surveyed the build. “Not a bad little set-up you have here.”

  Robby took the last step down and faced his ex, head-on. “What are you doing here?”

  “Just visiting an old friend.” His face was all innocence.

  Robby didn’t buy it for a second. “We were never friends, John.”

  Like a viper, John’s hand shot out and gripped the back of Robby’s neck. “That’s not how I remember it at all. We were the best of friends.” He tugged Robby toward him and gripped his hip with his other hand. “God, you feel just like I remember. The other night only whetted my appetite for another taste.”

  Robby strained against John’s hold on him. “Let me go. I don’t want you here.”

  “You heard him,” Matt growled. “Get lost.”

  John purred into Robby’s ear as if Matt had never spoken. “Then where? I heard you were back at our old haunt Saturday. Maybe looking for me? Let’s go back into your trailer, and I’ll give you what you’ve been missing the past few years.”

  Wedging his hands against John’s chest, Robby tried to push him away. “I was not looking for you. We broke up for a reason, and I have no interest in going there again.”

  Releasing his neck, John cupped him over the fly of his nice jeans. “Your mouth says one thing, but your body is saying something else.”

  Matt shoved between them and John stumbled back. And before Robby could even breathe, John’s overwhelming presence vanished altogether. His body jerked away like a puppet on a string.

  Brick stood beside Robby, his chest heaving, with veins bulging from the side of his neck. He had John’s collar gripped in his thick fist. “What is my body telling you right now, motherfucker?”

  The color drained from John’s face as Brick’s second hand wrapped around his throat.

  “You think consent is a joke?” Brick shook him like a rag doll.

  Matt crowded closer to Robby, his nearness an unexpected comfort.

  “We got a problem out here?” Kane’s long strides covered the yard in the blink of an eye.

  John thrashed in Brick’s grip. “No,” he gasped. “Wasn’t. Hurting. Him.”

  “The fuck you weren’t.” Brick let go, and John crumpled to the ground in a heap. “I heard every bit of your bullshit no-means-yes game.” He growled.

  Brick actually freaking growled.

  Gingerly, John sat upright. “We have a history,” he rasped. It looked painful when he swallowed, and he rubbed his throat. “I’m not some random guy. I took care of him.”

  Robby stepped forward. Having his friends surrounding him gave him an extra shot of confidence. “I don’t know how I can make it any clearer. I have moved on with my life.” He squatted in front of the man who was the center of his world for more than a year and looked him dead in the eye. “I want you to leave, John, and don’t come back. There’s nothing for you here.”

  The seconds passed as John held his gaze. It was a message, one of dominance no doubt. That kind of thing had always been important to him. Eventually, he huffed and staggered to his feet. “You talk a pretty big game in front of your thug friends,” he hissed.

  Brick started forward, but Matt grabbed his arm and murmured something too quietly for Robby to make out.

  Either John didn’t notice or he was too worked up to care. “I remember what you looked like on your knees. I will see you there again.” With as much dignity as he could muster, he brushed the construction dust from his slacks.

  Then, Matt moved like lightning, knocking him to the ground again. “If you see him again, you’d better turn and run in the other direction.”

  Brick delivered a powerful kick. “You should probably get the fuck right out of town. It’s been a while since I broke any bones, but not so long I forgot how.”

  John whimpered—a sound Robby had never heard from him in all the time they’d been together—and stumbled to his car. The site remained silent until his flashy red Camaro disappeared down the street. Only then did chaos erupt.

  ***

  Matt

  Brick ripped off his yellow hardhat and threw it in the dirt. His chest heaved with unspent aggression as he stomped over to Robby. “If that rancid cunt steps foot on this work site again, I will take his head off his motherfucking body.”

  Kane crossed his tattooed arms over his chest. “And I know how to make a body disappear. He’s fucking with the wrong family.”

  As awful as the whole display had been, Matt’s chest filled with pride over the loyalty Robby had in these two men. He’d had the same kind of bond for a while with Patty, but for more than a year, life had become an uphill climb he’d been traversing alone.

  But he wasn’t alone now, was he? He had Robby, unless he managed to screw it up.

  He kept quiet as the big guys continued to rant and rave about Robby’s ex and the various ways they could dispose of a body. From anyone else, he probably would have blown it off as posturing, but with these two, he couldn’t be sure. They argued for a while over the merits of sulfuric acid versus wild hogs before agreeing Robby didn’t need to know the details.

  It was like Matt wasn’t even there, which wa
s fine, because he didn’t know what to do with the leftover adrenaline from the whole confrontation. He’d knocked a man on the ground. He’d never wanted to hurt anyone so much—ever—in his entire life.

  Robby didn’t say much, but he did nod at Brick’s order to come find him if he needed anything.

  Brick and Kane still debated, albeit in hushed tones, as they went back into the house.

  “I wish you hadn’t seen that,” Robby muttered. He eased himself down to sit on one of the steps leading to the trailer.

  “Only you would worry about my feelings after going through such a thing.” Matt rubbed at the legs of his pants, willing his racing heart to slow down.

  Robby smiled. “If I’m worrying about you, I don’t have to worry about me, now do I?”

  Matt settled on the step beside him. It was a tight fit, but not an uncomfortable one. “You used to go out with that guy?”

  “John,” Robby acknowledged. “Yeah. We lived together for about a year and a half, not long after I first came to Atlanta.”

  “How long ago?”

  Robby rested his head against the railing. “Seven years or so.”

  Seven years? “I thought you were my age.” Seven years ago, he was still a junior in high school.

  “I’m twenty-three. You’re doing the math, aren’t you?”

  He’d been sixteen. God. “How old is he?”

  Robby shrugged. “Forty-one? Forty-two? He kept his age kind of close to the vest. I think he was in his mid-thirties when we were together…and seemed kind of prickly about it.” He furrowed his eyebrows. “Well, I guess, on one hand, he didn’t like to be reminded of his age, but in some ways, he played up the whole Daddy dynamic.”

  “Daddy dynamic?” Matt echoed.

  “He likes ‘em young. What can I say? I had nowhere to go. My parents kicked me out with nothing but the clothes on my back. I slept on the street. In the shelters.” A shudder wracked his frame. “I may have been a kid when I left home, but in the few months it took me to find John, there was nothing left innocent about me.”