Page 72 of Love and History

“Oh. I’m so sorry.”

I inclined my head in acknowledgment. “I was away at college when he was at his lowest, and part of me will always feel guilty I didn’t do anything. Truthfully, I wouldn’t have known how. I didn’t know the depth of his addiction. He lost his job when I was in grade school and his self-respect soon after. He suffered from depression, anxiety, and a host of other shit. My mom worked twice as hard to make up for the loss of income. My brothers probably knew there was more to the story. I was oblivious.”

“That was probably a good thing.”

“I don’t know about that. The way I see it, I willfully bought the lie. Dad was always jolly and happy. Mom was always gone. She still is. I hated her for moving on so fast after he died, but I’ve slowly come to terms with the fact that I couldn’t see all sides to the story. I thought he was the greatest dad in the world, but he was flawed too. And he was probably a crappy husband. Reconciling the pieces that wouldn’t fit messed with my head.” I gestured toward the house meaningfully. “I couldn’t look at that damn cookbook without getting pissed for years. Smiling when your life is in the shitter, putting up appearances, lying all the fucking time…just to make your kid think it’s all gonna be okay. The most revealing thing is that there isn’t a single entry from my teenage years. We stopped recording life when it sucked. We stopped making up phony shit about being a happy fucking family when it got to be hard work. And now we pretend again. Should I thank him, or should I be angry? Some days, I still can’t decide and that pisses me off.”

“How old were you when he died?” he asked gently.

“Twenty-one. I floundered through that last year of college. If it hadn’t been for Blake and Cole and my teammates, I’m not sure I would have finished. I was so fucking lost. And everyone else moved on. I felt like I was the only one dealing with his death, but again…perspective. I was the loudmouthed youngest kid who would have given anything to walk into my parents’ house and see my dad at the stove with a big smile on his face. ‘Hey, Ezzie. How’s it goin’? Take a seat, tell me about your day!’ Hell, I’d give anything for it now. But that’s ten year-old me talking, not teenage me, not adult me. He’s gone and I have to figure out how to make sense of it. And ideally, stop wishing I could ask him why the fuck he couldn’t pull his shit together and be the guy I remembered in those photos.” I licked my dry lips and sighed. “So…law.”

“I’m sorry.” Holden reached for my hand. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re going to be a wonderful lawyer, Ezra Marsden.”

“Thanks. I’m gonna try, but you know…sometimes my motivations worry me. Am I doing this for Dad or me? Does it matter? I just don’t know sometimes,” I admitted in a small voice.

He squeezed my hand gently. “I don’t either, but speaking from personal experience, you have to live your life for you. When you’re honest with yourself, the rest follows.”

“Hmm.” I was itchy to move the conversation to lighter topics. Let’s be real, honesty and truth were bigger concepts than I was ready to tackle over orzo. I was busy searching for a segue when Holden spoke again.

“You’re wrong to say you aren’t passionate. You throw yourself into everything you do. No hesitation. If you want to be the best, you will be. I have no doubt about that.”

I didn’t take compliments well. It was my nature to tell a joke and divert unwanted attention, but you know, I happily took this one ’cause I wanted it to be true. I wanted him to think well of me and to know that I intended to be someone better than the guy he met last year.

But I’d already admitted I was terrible at communicating, so I didn’t bother with words. I crashed my mouth over his instead, pouring everything I had into the connection.

And when I ran out of breath, I led him upstairs.

We left lights on and doors open, careless in our hurry to be naked and horizontal. But at the first slide of skin, we slowed to a crawl as if mutually agreeing to savor the moment. Tender kisses and lazy touches morphed into hungry tongue tangles and feverish groping. And when I finally made my way inside him, we started the dance all over again…slow and sweet.

I caged his head between my arms, loving his expressive face. His eyes fluttered and closed as I fucked him, rolling my hips with intent to be sure I lit up every nerve ending in his body. He worked himself over and begged me for more, but I held back. It wasn’t about control, although…yeah, it was hot as fuck to know I could make him so desperate for my cock. But this time…I wanted to make it last.

I barely held on. The pressure and pleasure won in the end. I devoured him with deep kisses and hooked my arm around his knees, bending him in half like a pretzel before thrusting double time.

We came within seconds of each other, gasping like fish out of water. I couldn’t tell if he was shaking or if it was me. I just knew that I didn’t ever want to let go.

All the truths I’d been spinning over earlier came at me in stereo. I was bi, my lover was a man, and it was good. This was my new direction. This was what I wanted.

Holden.

11

HOLDEN

Omg. HRS just received a LARGE donation from an LA law firm. I mean big! The note says it’s tagged as a reference for the department of physics and astronomy at USC. Anyone you know?

I reread Val’s text before responding.USC? No, but that’s good news.

It’s most excellent! See you tomorrow!

“Holden, my…friend! How are you this fine Friday?”

I secured my pirate’s cap as I glanced over at Marlon, settling himself a respectable few feet away from me on the bench outside the Physics building. I slipped my cell into the side pocket of my bag and pasted a friendly smile on my face.

“Oh, hi, Marlon.”

He tilted his chin toward the sky and sucked in a dramatic breath. “You have the right idea. It’s important to stop and smell the roses. I know you’re in the final stretch before your Renaissance fair, and I, for one, will be there with bells on. However, I’d love to pick your brain about the Return to Saturn event.”

“I’d prefer to wait. I was just on my way to class, and I won’t be able to concentrate on it until after Renaissance in the Park is over. How about Monday?”