Page 12 of Adonis (Salt and Starlight #1)

Bolstered by his success with Marty, Connor texted Trevor at lunch for a lift. Laurence tagged along, and nobody told Connor he was a nuisance the entire way home. They arrived back to the house to find the table set, and Laurence and Connor each carried two pizza boxes inside. Trevor strode to Edith and pressed a kiss to her cheek. His arm wrapped around her shoulders, and she smiled at him. Clearly the trouble from the morning had been worked through in Connor’s absence.

Laurence opened the pizza boxes one by one.

“Connor, did—”

Trevor began.

“Dad,”

Laurence interrupted in a sharp, angry voice.

Everyone looked at him in surprise. Laurence scowled at Trevor, who, with his eyes wide, was obviously taken aback by his youngest’s anger.

“What?”

Trevor asked.

Nick frowned at Laurence, his brow creasing. Even he wasn’t used to this.

“You didn’t get anything for Connor to eat,”

Laurence accused, his voice biting.

Trevor’s eyes widened further. He gestured at the four extra large pizzas laid out on the table. “I didn’t expect you to lay claim to all of it, Laurence. There’s more than enough for all of us.”

Laurence’s scowl deepened. “There’s nothing vegetarian.”

Trevor’s mouth opened like he was going to say something, but no words came.

A stuffy feeling rose inside Connor, swelling within his chest and spilling over into his head. It was bright. Luminous. Like a sun had just exploded into existence within him. He ducked his face, but there was nothing he could do. The laugh got out. He did his best to smother it behind his hand.

Laurence was sweet—too sweet for his own good, Connor reckoned—but right now, he was ready to throw down with his dad. And over something so small.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,”

Trevor said defensively. Of course he was defensive. Connor peeked up to see Laurence glaring at Trevor as if he’d just tried to run Connor over with his car. “I didn’t realise he was vegetarian—”

“Didn’t realise?”

Laurence scoffed. “He’s been here a month; he’s never had a bite of meat even when the rest of us are eating it. And he always suggests vegetarian meals when you ask.”

“I also suggest fish,”

Connor interjected, now that he had his smile under control. “I’m more pescetarian than vegetarian.”

“I wish you’d mentioned it,”

Trevor said, voice laced with guilt.

Connor shrugged. “It hasn’t been an issue.”

“I don’t see how you wouldn’t have noticed,”

Laurence said with his arms crossed, a damning look fixed on Trevor. Trevor squirmed.

Connor fought back another laugh.

“Leave him be,”

Nick said to Laurence.

“No, no. It’s alright.”

Trevor waved Nick off. “Like he said, I should have realised… that’s why you had me do tuna noodles when I made bolognese the other day. I’m sorry, Connor.”

“Like I said, it hasn’t been an issue,”

Connor said. Trevor cooked so many vegetables and sides that even without the cut of meat, dinners left him satisfied and then some.

“Let’s go out for dinner,”

Trevor said. “Pizza can be leftovers for when we’re hungry, and we can have a nice restaurant dinner.”

Laurence’s fighting stance loosened. His arms relaxed, no longer folded so tight. “Let’s do that.”

His tone said, you’re on thin ice.

They all piled into Trevor’s bigger car. Laurence, high off his victory over Trevor, quashed Nick’s objections and planted himself in the seat next to Connor. He chattered loudly about how oblivious Trevor was.

“Keep it up, and you’ll be sitting in the car while we eat,”

Trevor warned him as they entered the town.

Laurence bristled.

Connor nudged Laurence with his elbow. “Leave him be,”

he said softly to Laurence. “He looks guilty enough.”

They went to the World’s End, one of the few restaurants that stayed open during the off-season.

As they stepped in the front door, a waitress passing with empty dishes stopped in the middle of the floor. Her eyes locked on Connor, recognition sparking. She turned on her heels, practically running into the back room. A sense of foreboding filled Connor.

Trevor approached the greeter, an older lady who was happy to inform them that there were spaces available.

“Right this way.”

As she stood up, a man emerged from the back kitchen dressed in black chef’s wear. He leaned down, whispering in her ear. Both of them looked right at Connor.

Connor sunk his hands into pockets and released a slow breath, mentally preparing himself.

The chef straightened, and the lady stood beside him with an uncomfortable expression. “I’m sorry, but we cannot seat you,” she said.

A quizzical look crossed Trevor’s face, but Edith cast an accusing look right at Connor. You ruin everything, her stormy gaze seemed to say.

Connor stared back, hoping to convey a mix of, yeah I know, and screw off.

She jerked her gaze away from him as if repelled, making Connor think he’d only communicated the latter.

Edith put her hand on Trevor’s elbow. “We can try the Madison,” she said.

“It was free a moment ago?”

Laurence quizzed.

Like father, like son.

Connor bet Nick immediately knew as well. Connor could just leave them to it, bugger off for a few hours, but everything he knew about Laurence and Trevor said that they’d be more upset by him offering. They’ll say no anyway.

“Several staff members are part of the LGBT community,”

the chef said in a gruff voice. He jutted his chin at Connor. “That’s not happening.”

Trevor’s shoulders tensed. Laurence’s face reddened. Not in the way it did when he was embarrassed by Connor and his mom fighting and he sank down; it was like in the kitchen when he’d gotten mad at his dad. He puffed up. Set a fiery gaze on the man five times the size of him, and opened his mouth—not happening.

“Let’s go,”

Connor said, catching Laurence by the elbow. The last thing he wanted was word getting around that Laurence was defending known-and-accused bigots.

He dragged Laurence outside and waited for the others. It felt colder than it had a minute ago. He released Laurence to stuff his hands into his pockets, not letting it get to him. He understood. It was expected. In fact, fair play to the restaurant for looking out for their staff like that. They didn’t know the accusation was false.

Despite what he told himself, his gut sizzled in embarrassed. In front of Edith or Nick? So what. But Trevor and Laurence?

The rest of the family exited behind him. His poker face was firmly in place when they did; the same could not be said for either Trevor or Laurence.

“The Madison, then?”

Trevor said into the awkward silence.

“We could go to Sandy’s place,”

Connor suggested. He didn’t want them to be embarrassed at the Madison, too. He didn’t want Trevor or Laurence to have any nasty surprises of being barred for simply being in Connor’s company. And maybe they would serve them, or maybe they would go with public opinion and not let Connor in. It felt more likely they would be refused service.

“Why not?”

Trevor said. His hand went to the small of Edith’s back, an apparent move for comfort. Laurence’s comfort came from glaring at the restaurant. Nick watched Laurence with a worried frown. He no doubt had seen Laurence ready to go to war inside.

They walked to Sandy’s bar, which was only a stone’s throw away from the shore. The outdoor area was large with dozens of benches, tall tables, and stools. The setup was reminiscent of warmer European countries, with an outdoor bar installed to be used at the height of summer.

Inside was half-filled with an older crowd. A girl younger than Laurence and a bright-eyed woman with a chin-length bob and a stern set to her chin worked at the bar.

Sandy laid eyes on Connor.

“You little devil,” she said.

Next to him, Laurence drew up, tensing until his shoulders were near his ears. Connor grinned. Sandy came out from behind the bar and engulfed Connor in a hug. She was taller than him, and with the stern look her features naturally rested in, many people found her intimidating. Connor knew her sternness was for trouble-makers alone. Besides, she’d always had a soft spot for him.

“Took you this long to see me, did it?”

Sandy pulled back. She put her hands on her hips, and her gaze darted over Connor. “Marty was rubbing it in my face that you’ve been to see him.”

Connor exhaled, amused. “I hardly saw him an hour ago.”

“He said you got bigger,”

Sandy said. “He’s right. And look at that mess up top. When’s the last time you cut your hair?”

Connor pressed a hand to the back of his head. The curls were getting a little unruly…

“It’s nice long,”

Laurence said, defensive.

Connor smiled faintly. Having someone ready to jump to his defence wasn’t so bad. So long as it was about hair cuts and dietary choices, not bigot-related defence. “There you have it, Sandy. It’s nice. Think we could grab some lunch off you?”

“Sure thing. Sit where you like. I’ll bring down some menus.”

They claimed a window table that overlooked the water. Laurence cast icy looks in Sandy’s direction until Connor nudged his foot under the table. “Don’t be at that,”

Connor warned him.

“She insulted you,”

Laurence said back.

“She suggested a haircut. And she’s going to be fussing about me eating more and asking am I getting enough sleep later,”

Connor said.

Trevor glanced at the bar where Sandy was digging through the shelves. “I’m guessing she’s known you since you were young?”

“Since I was a toddler,”

Connor confirmed. “She’d mind me a lot,”

he said. “And as I got older, I’d bring a lot of business in.”

“How?”

Laurence asked.

“I’d invite the people I went on the water with here afterwards,”

Connor said. And given that he’d be on the water with rich kids and big spenders, it was a boost to the bar. Not that they needed it at the height of summer when things got crazy busy. Though Connor had made himself scarce last summer. The novelty of watching people get drunk while he stayed sober had long worn off.

“Can I come with you?”

Laurence asked, eyes wide and expectant.

“Trevor might cry if I turn you into a bad kid,”

Connor said.

Trevor snorted, and didn’t notice Edith’s frown. She saw it as a threat, not a joke.

“Can I get you any drinks?”

Sandy asked, arriving at the head of the table. She distributed menus and flipped Connor’s to the back page. “New section,” she said.

An array of fish and vegetarian dishes lined the page. Way too many, in fact. And it certainly wasn’t bar food. “How will you keep up with these in the middle of summer?”

Connor asked her.

“We’ll manage,”

Sandy said, dropping him a wink.

Connor went still. At the top of the page in a big bold font was: Happy 18th, Connor!

Laurence flipped straight to the back page as Trevor, Nick, and Edith gave their drink orders. He read the titled section with a grin. “Dad, you should take some dinner pointers from Connor’s page.”

Trevor leaned over, reading where Laurence pointed. His eyes softened. “Connor said you’ve known him since he was a toddler?”

“Practically raised him,”

Sandy said with a laugh, resting her hand on Connor’s shoulder and giving him a warm, affectionate squeeze. “Someone had to do it.”

She laughed again. “I’ll get those drinks for you while you read the menu.”

Connor didn’t turn his head. Laurence’s frozen expression was enough. Sandy’s bomb had struck home.

Connor knew, of course, that he would be blamed for the wry comment. Edith’s chair dragged on the floor as she stood up. She was rigid as she marched out the front door.

“Now I see why you picked here,”

Nick remarked.

“Nick,”

Trevor warned.

Nick held up his hands in submission, unperturbed. He’d gotten his jab in.

Connor could defend his involvement. But only if he was willing to place the blame on Sandy. Never, he thought. And if any of them said a single bad word about her… He fought the way his body wanted to stiffen, hating the new tension that now charged the air.

“She’s not wrong,”

Connor said. It came out uncaring, like he was a total monster who didn’t give a damn that his mom had just been subjected to a hurtful remark in front of her new family, and was undoubtedly embarrassed and hurt.

Connor was part monster, at the very least, because he didn’t feel bad. He didn’t like the tension, nor how uncomfortable Laurence and Trevor were, but there was no sympathy within him for Edith. For as long as he could remember, Edith had despised him while Sandy had fed him, played with him, and talked to him. And she was defending him now. She didn’t believe the reports about him. She didn’t think he would do that.

“I need to go.”

Trevor stood. He dug his wallet out and placed his card on the table. “You three can order what you like.”

Laurence’s phone pinged as Trevor left, and he glanced at the screen. His eyes widened as his gaze darted down the rows of text on his phone. “Listen to this! ‘Holland Corp’ named as the previously anonymous donor behind Judge Renald’s run for office.”

Connor met Laurence’s buzzing excitement with a raised eyebrow. Renald was the man who gave Connor his slap on the wrist, and he knew that there were people who thought there was a homophobic agenda going on behind it all. Apparently, Laurence cared more about the news than he did about the little spat they had just witnessed.

“Judges get donors all the time,”

Connor said.

“Irish judges don’t get funded by American billionaires!”

“Holland Corp isn’t an American billionaire,”

Nick said. He didn’t look impressed that Laurence’s attention had moved on so quickly from their dad leaving and Edith being angered and hurt.

“It is,”

Laurence said. He thrust the phone at Connor.

The first thing Connor saw was the website’s name. “I’m not sure ‘Conspiracy Theories’ is the most reliable source of information.”

“No, listen.”

Laurence took his phone back before Connor even glanced at the article. “It linked to other articles that are legit.”

He handed the phone to Nick, who started to read it. “And it says on Judge Renald’s page that one of his sponsors is Holland Corp.”

“And where does it say that Holland Corp is a billionaire?”

Nick asked. “It’s a business based in Holland.”

“No, it’s not. I already researched them when I was trying to find who owned the lab where Connor’s other dad works. Eventually, I got the name Holland Corp, and when I researched who owned that, it led back to Richard Cessair.”

Connor’s other dad. It took Connor a second to formulate words. “Cessair being the man who owns the lab?”

“Yes.”

Laurence’s eyes brimmed with excitement.

The information tugged at Connor’s mind, discomfort filling him. After a moment of uncomfortable thought, his rational side kicked it. “That’s a bit of a stretch,”

Connor said. He made his tone dismissive.

Laurence looked between him and Nick, apparently realising that his conspiracy wasn’t finding believing listeners. He bit his lip and scoffed at them before putting his phone back into his pocket and returning his attention to the menu.

Nick thumbed the menu on the table in front of him without picking it up. He turned to Laurence. “Let’s go eat in the World’s End—”

“I’m eating with Connor.”

Laurence didn’t even let him finish. He scanned the page dedicated to Connor, not giving Nick even a wisp of attention.

Nick scowled at Connor when he turned from his brother’s down-turned head and their eyes met.

“I’m sure you can find yourself a table for one,”

Connor goaded.

Nick’s scowl became a glower. His chair clattered against the one next to it as he got up and stormed out of the building. Laurence peeked up to watch him go, taking his bottom lip between his teeth. A look of obvious guilt played out on his features.

Connor took that in. “I can’t believe he willingly left us alone together,”

he said. “Do you think he’s starting to like me?”

“Well…maybe?”

Laurence lied.

Connor repressed a grin. “What are you going to get?”

“Hmm…what are you going to get?”

“I’m starting at the top and working my way down,”

Connor said. Sandy tailored him an entire menu of vegetarian and fish dishes, and he wasn’t going to let even a single side dish go untested.

“I’ll start from the bottom.”

Laurence glanced at the front door. “Should I go after him?”

“If you want to.”

Laurence, after a long pause, shook his head. “I’ll let him cool off. I’m sorry.”

He cast Connor a regretful look. “I keep telling him you’re nice, but he won’t believe me.”

Connor smirked. “I’m nice?”

“You’re nice to me.”

Connor just wasn’t mean to Laurence. Not yet, at least. “Ask Nick if I’m nice to him.”

“You’re nice to Dad, too.”

“When and where?”

“You are,”

Laurence insisted. “It’s just that Nick is mean to you, so you’re mean back, and Edith is mean to you so—”

He cut off. Laurence bent forward, staring down at his menu, picking at the corner of it. Unhappiness seemed to simply radiate from him. “I’m not trying to bad mouth your mom. It’s just…you can’t even sleep in, and she has something nasty to say about it. If Dad was always on my case like that, I’d be really upset.”

Laurence really was too soft-hearted.

And the effect that softness had on Connor was devastating. It melted his defences in moments, had the truth bursting at the seams, demanding to be spilled. Truths about how he felt, about what it was like growing up with Edith, about how much he really liked Trevor even though he’d only known him a few weeks.

“I didn’t beat up that guy because he was gay,”

Connor said.

Laurence’s entire body jerked like he’d be zapped by electricity. His gaze snapped to Connor. Connor’s breath was short; that wasn’t what he’d planned to say. At all.

“It was a stupid fight that got out of hand. And he just happened to be gay.”

That was the truth, even if Connor couldn’t remember. “Apparently, his mom is going up for re-election, and I offered up her great cause on a silver platter.”

He didn’t add the part about none of his friends coming to his defence. None of his teachers vouched for his character. His own boyfriend vanished and refused to say a word about what happened that night. The account others had given told Connor what happened: he walked in on Austin and Peter in bed. He and Peter fought. Connor won.

With distance, Connor understood Austin’s silence. Who wanted to admit they were a two-timing deviant after the case had the attention of the whole world? But it was a hollow understanding. Connor would have come forward for Austin. He would have done it for any of his friends.

“Can you write a letter to the judge?”

Laurence’s eyes were wide and earnest. “About—”

“I didn’t tell you for you to try to figure out a solution,”

Connor said. His voice wasn’t as cutting as it could have been despite his vulnerability making him defensive.

Laurence seemed taken aback. After a moment of thought, he nodded. “Okay. I won’t. And I never thought it was true, just so you know.”

Connor knew that much already. If Laurence had believed it, then spending time alone with Connor was plain stupid. But he hadn’t seemed sold on the idea of Connor as a bigot from the second he’d stepped into the house.

“Why didn’t you?”

Connor asked.

“Um… I just didn’t?”

Connor stared blankly at Laurence as the words sank in. A spark of anger fizzled through him, and then it blazed. “Next time, listen to your brother.”

“What? But he was wrong!”

“You’re the size of a pinata. Don’t go off alone with convicted gay bashers. Idiot.”

Laurence looked at Connor, defiance shining in his dark eyes. “Pinata?”

he demanded.