Page 6 of 300 New Year's Eves

“Alright,” Henry agrees, and they walk out the door, leaving Sergio, Holden, and Adrien in uncomfortable silence. Even Gus takes off running from the room and up the large open stairs.

Sergio finally speaks. “How the fuck was I supposed to know that?”

“How the fuck did you not?” Adrien asks. “It was only the biggest news story in sports four years ago. Jeremy Owens, men’s figure skating Olympic gold medal favorite, is out of the games after collapsing on the ice. Cause later determined to be MS.”

“I mean, it’s not like I follow figure skating religiously.”

“Dude,” Holden says. “You were trying to get into his pants at those games.”

“Yeah, and he turned me down.”

“And that’s a reason not to care about someone?” Adrien asks.

“I was surrounded by gorgeous athletes! I had pictures to take and fun and games to have. It’s not my fault this news hadn’t made it to me.”

Adrien lets out a sigh as Holden looks at Sergio. “Look, man, it’s fine. Just apologize in the morning or something.”

“Why should I have to apologize?”

“Because you fucked up,” Adrien says. “Royally.”

“It was a minor faux pas.”

“Oh yeah, then how does your foot taste?” Holden teases.

“My guess is like Italian suede,” Adrien says.

“It tastes like nothing because it’s not in my mouth. I did nothing wrong.” A cool rush flows through his system at his words that he shakes off.

“Eh, you kind of did,” Holden says.

“Whatever.” Sergio sighs and rises from the floor. “I’m calling it a night.”

Chapter two

Sergio always sleeps like the dead. Sleepless nights are for people who know shame. A concept Sergio isn’t familiar with. It’s how he’s missed countless phone calls, roaring storms, and a robbery happening in his Paris hotel room. It’s no wonder he doesn’t hear the fast-approaching footsteps and subsequent leap of a five-year-old mere seconds before said five-year-old lands on the bed, kneeing him directly in the balls.

“Uncle Sergio! Wake up!”

“Oof …” Sergio’s stomach lurches from the impact, causing him to cough. “Morning, buddy,” he wheezes out as he tries to catch his breath from the worst wake-up of his life. Gus hisses underneath the bed and then goes careening out of the room. On the bright side, it would appear from Henry’s enthusiastic entrance that he’s no longer upset with Sergio for last night’s minor incident with Jeremy Owens.

“Dad said to come get you. Breakfast is almost ready.”

“Did your dad tell you to jump on the bed as well?” Sergio asks, figuring there’s a high probability that he did.

“No.” Henry giggles and looks away with flushed cheeks.

“Are both your mom and dad downstairs?”

“Yes.” Henry starts pulling on Sergio’s arm, trying, struggling, and failing to get him to sit up.

Sergio uses his strength and leverage to yank Henry down and into his hold, cuddling him close to his chest. “What about Jeremy? Is he here?”

“No,” Henry says. “You should go tell him you’re sorry.”

“Oh really? Is that what you think?”

“Yes.”