TAKE ME HOME (34 page)

“A little sore.” He wished he could lean forward and fall into Kyle’s arms, but he couldn’t give in. Kyle switched on the windshield wipers, the privacy of their sanctuary broken by the squeak of rubber against glass and the bright blue neon in full illumination. Snowflakes fell before the truck’s headlights. The snow didn’t comfort Evan the way it had on their previous trips to Liberty Falls. Getting the smallest glimpse of each flake as it moved through the beam of the light and not being able to see it fall to its final destination didn’t seem fair. He closed his eyes. He just wanted to catch a flight with Kyle and head back to California. He sighed and faced him again. “Take me home?”

Kyle reached out and stroked his cheek with an open hand. “You got it.” He faced front and put the truck in drive.

Too bad he hadn’t meant that the way Evan wanted him to. When they passed by the sign that read Welcome to Liberty Falls, Ohio, home of the perfect Christmas tree, Evan forced the words out. “I have to talk to Dennis.”

“I know.” Kyle didn’t say anything more until they were turning down their parents’ street.

“It’s okay, Ev. No matter what you want to do.”

“I know exactly what I want.” He waited for Kyle to ask what it was or to make a joke, something. But he said nothing. He gave a nod, parked the truck, and got out, trudging through the snow for his parents’ house. He had his shoulders hunched, his head hung low.

He was hurting. He really didn’t believe they were going to make this work.

Six days before, if someone had told Evan he’d spend the last hours of Christmas Eve with two million dollars lying across his lap and a brokenhearted Kyle walking away from him, he’d have laughed his ass off.

The two million dollars had seemed more likely.

180

Sloan Parker

Kyle stood in the dark at the window of his old bedroom, watching the house across the way. Only one low light remained on in Evan’s old home. In the kitchen. It was killing him waiting and letting Evan do this on his own.

But he had to.

He turned away from the window. That didn’t mean he was about to wait until Christmas morning to find out what happened. He needed to talk to Evan. Tonight.

He lay on the bed, his clothes and shoes still on, and he waited.

A moment later, Lorrie stood at the bedroom door. “Mom and dad are putting the kids to bed. They wanted me to come get you. Time for our traditional Christmas Eve nightcap.” Kyle didn’t want a drink, didn’t want to celebrate. He wanted to be alone. He lifted his head, and her smile faded. “I’ll tell them you’re already asleep.” She went to leave.

“Lorrie.” He rolled to his side. “Are you happy?”

“Right now?”

“In general, are you happy with your life? Are you happy with Brett?” She crossed the room and leaned down to hold his face in her hands. “It’s a good thing you’re a writer. Such an imagination but clueless about so many things in your own life. Yes, I’m happy.” She let go and stood up. “I may not have the most glamorous life like everyone out there in Hollywood, but I wouldn’t trade it or my family for anything. I love my kids. I love Brett. I love our life together.”

How had he not seen that? Maybe he hadn’t wanted to know love made life better, grander, made the tough times bearable. Until now.

Lorrie added, “It’s the kind of love I think you have a shot at, baby brother. If you let yourself.” She kissed his cheek and left.

He fell back to the bed again. She was right. What a coward he’d been running from it for so long, thinking he was too good for commitment, thinking that fucking every guy he possibly could was the only way to really feel alive.

He had to talk to Evan.

He rolled off the bed and went to the window. Where were they? In the kitchen with that lone light? Or in the darkness of Evan’s old bedroom? Were they talking? Touching?

He crossed the room and sat at the desk. He opened his grandfather’s journal and turned to the handwritten letter on the pages that followed the final entry.

Dear Kyle,

I’m not sure if you’ve read this journal, but I hope you can. I’d like for one person to know the truth—to know what I’ve done. Perhaps a confession from your old grandfather is too much to put on your shoulders, but the shame and guilt is more than I can bear some days. I lied. I Take Me Home

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helped men cover up a crime that included the death of an innocent person. I took what wasn’t mine and kept it from those who it did belong to. All to hide the fact that I loved another man.

I was a coward.

I am ashamed of that, of all I did, and can’t bring myself to leave this journal for your father and aunts to find.

I had thought leaving Joe and going home was the right decision for me—the right decision for everyone. Only, my heart was with a man who lived two thousand miles away. He was my home, and I left him alone to face a future I didn’t have the courage to live. He died of cancer five years later. When I called to talk to his family, his mother said he’d given up. He’d stopped fighting. I had done that to him.

I loved your grandmother. I loved our life together, our kids, our home, but a part of me was never there with her. A part of me died in a hospital in San Francisco.

Regret is a horrible thing to live with. The family I had helps me see life often takes surprising, wonderful turns, but I’ll never forget the life and the young man I walked away from.

I’ll never forget the love I learned to give another person through him. I’ll never regret a single day I spent with him. I only regret not being there for him in the end when he needed me the most.

My hope for you is you’ll live your life so you’ll never have to regret the choices you’ve made, the experiences you’ve avoided, or what you’ve let slip away.

I know you love him. He’s the right future for you. He always was.

Kyle turned the page. It was blank. He flipped through more pages until he stared at the last blank page of the journal.

He grabbed his phone and sent a text to Evan. I need to see you.

Evan reached into the soapy water and washed a plate, then another, letting his hands linger in the warmth of the water between each dish. He heard Dennis step into the kitchen. There was no mistaking that slow, measured walk. Dennis located a towel and dried the dishes from the dish rack, putting each away in its proper place. He was comfortable in that room, knew where everything went. They’d done this before. Too many times to count.

Dennis had been his family, but that had ended six months ago. Maybe they could get that back. Maybe not. It no longer mattered. Evan had to take a chance on the future—the family—

he’d always wanted.

“I love you,” Dennis said, his voice so low Evan barely heard it over the slosh of the water as he washed a wineglass. “But I had to let you go. I wasn’t who you wanted. I’m still not, am I?”

Evan stared out the kitchen window above the sink. Somewhere in that house across the street, in the dark, was Kyle. He rinsed the glass and set it in the dish rack. He picked up another.

“I did love you.”

“I know.” Dennis gripped Evan’s upper arms and turned him until they faced each other.

“But you belong to him.”

Evan nodded. The water from his hands dripped onto the floor. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.

I didn’t know how he felt when I e-mailed you. Or maybe I did and didn’t want to see it… I 182

Sloan Parker

don’t know. After contacting you again, seeing that you wanted me back and that I got your hopes up, I thought I owed you an explanation.”

Dennis dropped his hands to his sides. “You don’t have to explain. When I first met you, I thought all I’d ever have was one night. You were so young, and it wasn’t exactly the right thing for me to do—sleeping with a student. When you kept coming back, kept wanting to see me, I let myself hope we’d have a future together. A life.”

“We had a life.”

“But it was a temporary stopover for you. You had to wait for him.”

“You were never that to me.”

Dennis held his gaze on the wet glass in the rack. He gave a quick nod. “Thank you for saying that, but it’s time for you to go to him, isn’t it?” God, he wanted to believe that, but what if Kyle still wasn’t ready?

Dennis spoke again. “I told him I was going to fight for you, wait around until he screwed you over so I could get you back, but seeing you with him earlier, being here with you alone like this.” He shook his head. “I realize now that’s not what’s best for me. I can’t say this doesn’t hurt, but I want to be with a guy who wants me. Not someone else.”

“You deserve that.”

“I do. So do you.” Dennis met his gaze again. “He’s a gamble. You know that, right?”

“No.” Evan faced the sink, focusing on the house across the street again. “He isn’t. He just needs time to get used to this.”

“If he hurts you, I’m going to kick his ass.”

They laughed. It wasn’t a joyful sound, but it was nice to know Dennis wanted to try for something other than anger or pain.

“I might let you do that.”

Dennis sighed and said, “I’m going to go get my bag. I’ll stay at the motel tonight.”

“But it’s Christmas Eve.”

“I have to go. For me.”

Evan got that. “I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing. I tried to tell you on the phone.”

“I know. I didn’t want to hear you. And it wasn’t for nothing. I needed to see you two together. Otherwise, I would’ve kept holding on.” He stood taller, his gaze focused on the kitchen door. “If I leave early tomorrow morning, I can make it to my sister’s in Chicago for Christmas dinner.”

“Okay. I’ll finish up here and be out in a minute.” To say good-bye. For the last time.

Dennis nodded and walked out of the kitchen.

Evan wiped his wet hands on a towel. He had a call to make. He couldn’t put it off any longer. He dug out his phone and dialed.

“Merry Christmas, Evan.” Miguel’s voice sounded cheerful over the lively music in the background. Their usual family Christmas party at Castillo’s. “How’s it going there in Ohio?” Evan couldn’t find the words to answer. Too much had happened to go with a standard

“Fine. How are you?”

Take Me Home

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“What’s the matter?” Miguel asked, his voice serious in an instant.

“If I stay in California, can I come back to work?”

“Of course. What happened?”

“I didn’t take the job. They asked me to do something I couldn’t do.”

“I’m sorry, kid.”

“It’s okay. I’m not giving up.”

“No, you’re not. Did I ever tell you how I got from college ball to running a restaurant?”

“No.”

“I met my wife during our junior year. I was totally smitten from day one, but she was dating someone else. At the homecoming game, I was determined to impress her. My dreams of playing pro ball died that day when I blew out my knee. In my anger and resentment, I dropped out of college and ran from everything. From everyone. Family. Friends. My wife, although we were just friends back then. After five years of doing nothing and getting nowhere, I finally accepted my dad’s offer to work in the kitchen of the family business. Washing dishes every night at Castillo’s, I had a chance to get to know the family I hadn’t bothered to spend time with before then. My dad, grandparents, brothers, and cousins. I also had a chance to win over the love of my life when my wife starting coming in on Wednesday nights after her late shift at the hospital. I found out years later it was my grandmother who had invited her to dinner that first night she’d come into Castillo’s. That football injury was the best thing that ever happened to me. Sometimes what we need the most comes to us in ways we can’t imagine will work out to be anything but pain and heartbreak.” He paused. “Kyle hasn’t come around yet, has he?”

“You knew?”

“Kid, everyone knew.”

“Yeah, I guess so. He says he’s ready. I’m not sure if he is. But he will be. Someday.” As the words left his mouth, his phone chimed the alert for a new text message.

Kyle’s phone beeped with a new message. From Evan: I need to talk to you too.

Kyle responded with: Meet me in an hour. Where we first met.

How?

It’ll be open. Just come. Please.

Kyle stuffed the phone into his pocket and went to the bookshelf beside his desk. He searched for his old high school yearbook and finally found it on the bottom shelf, the spine covered in dust. He flipped it open and searched through the pages. The name of the man he needed to talk to had to be in there. He just hoped the guy would help him out on Christmas Eve.

It was the most romantic plan he could come up with.

184

Sloan Parker

Evan pulled into the Liberty Falls High School driveway and parked next to the only other vehicle in the dark lot, the truck Kyle had driven to the farm earlier.

This was crazy. They were going to get arrested for breaking into their former school on Christmas Eve. The New York Times best seller and the wannabe screenwriter were about to make the local news. Evan got out and went to the nearest set of doors. He found the last one beside the gymnasium unlocked and knew where to go from there.

Like instinct, like heading home.

Up the stairs, second door to the right. And straight on till morning? He took a deep breath and let the hope wash over him.

The halls of the school looked similar to when he’d last been there, with a few notable differences. The walls were painted a bright shade of blue instead of the drab off-white they’d been, the banners and posters were more artistic, and there were far more signs for campus teen groups and activities. A flyer caught his eye, and he stopped before the bulletin board.

Liberty Falls High School LGBTQ & Straight Alliance. Come one and all to join the fun at our New Year’s Bash.

Yeah, some things were different, all right.

For the better.

A low flicker of light filtered into the hallway through the frosted glass window on the door to their old English classroom. Where he’d first laid eyes on the dark-eyed transfer student.

Evan reached for the doorknob and told himself it was the cold he’d walked through outside causing his hand to shake.