Page 136 of Men of Fort Dale: The Complete Series

“Lookin’ awfully serious over there, son,” his father’s voice said from behind.

“Normally, that’d be true, but you’re lookin’ a little more serious than usual. Your sisters been after ya again?”

“She was lookin’ a little stressed the last I saw her. Wasn’t sure what that was about.”

“I think they heard Maria kidnapped me last night and wanted to give me a break. Sweet of them, but she was fine.”

“So,” his father said, standing beside him at the window. “They’re fine, haven’t been bothering you?”

“Nope.”

“Where’s your partner?”

“Last I knew, he was talking to Eric.”

Again.

Matt seemed hellbent on doing that above all else. Which, on its own, wasn’t a problem. However, the fact that every time Nick located them, they moved was unsettling. He was being avoided, and he felt a little ill.

“And there’s that look.”

Nick frowned. “I didn’t have a look.”

“It’s a bit like the look ya used to get when your Ma wouldn’t let you have sweets before dinner. Bit less doe-eyed than back then, but the same.”

“Doe-eyed?” Nick asked incredulously.

“Doe-eyed,” his father confirmed.

Nick sighed, knowing he wasn’t getting out of answering his father. “Matt.”

“What about him?”

Nick shrugged, trying not to let his bother show. “Stupid as it sounds, I think he’s avoiding me.”

His father took a moment to respond. “How do you know that?”

Nick glanced at him, frowning. “We’ve been best friends for years. You think I don’t know when something’s wrong?”

“Just friends, eh?”

Nick stiffened as the shock rolled through him with those few simple words. His mouth fell open as he wanted to ask…no, demand, to know how the hell his father knew enough to make that assumption. Then his mouth snapped shut, his eyes narrowing as he turned to face the window, glowering.

“Maria,” he ground out.

“Nope.”

“Mom?” he asked doubtfully.

“Huh. So they know, you tell ‘em?”

Nick closed his eyes. “Yes.”

“I’ll try not to be offended that they knew and I didn’t.”

Nick sighed. “It wasn’t...it wasn’t like that. There’s never been a good reason to tell anyone. If it were something serious?—”

“Like Matt?” his father asked.

“I,” Nick hesitated. “I don’t know. Never been a possibility. He’s...well, it’s not going to happen.”

He saw his father wince in the reflection in the window. “Yeah, wasn’t thinking about that too much when I talked to him last night.”

Nick took a step away from the window and his father. “You what?”

That earned another grimace. “Might’ve...had a bit too much to drink last night. Might’ve found him...actually right here now that I think about it, same room and everythin’.”

“Dad,” Nick whispered faintly. “What did you do?”

“Told him about Mitch, for one.”

Nick stared. It seemed there was more than one surprise waiting for him. “You knew about Mitch?”

“Well, hell, Nick, how do you think I knew anything?”

If Nick had to guess, it wouldn’t have been Mitch.

He hadn’t talked to his boyhood crush and only boyfriend in years.

And, outside of Matt, Mitch had the honor of being the only guy Nick had ever been interested in romantically.

Nick had also thought the two of them had been careful, to the point of paranoia, about making sure they weren’t found out.

Seemed he hadn’t done too well in that regard.

His father wasn’t done, though. “Then that kinda sorta led into me talkin’ about you and him.”

“There is no me and him,” Nick said faintly.

“Yeah, but I see the two of ya, see how ya are, and I was wonderin’. Thought maybe if I led the horse to water,” his father trailed off.

“Oh shit,” Nick muttered, wiping a hand over his mouth. “You told him.”

His stomach plummeted at his father’s reluctant nod. Dread and fear felt like shards of ice stabbing his chest, constricting it. His mouth went dry, and he had to reach out, grabbing the back of a chair to stay upright.

“Dad,” he said hoarsely.

Now he knew why Matt had been avoiding him and acting so weird when he was around. There was only one thing he’d ever actively kept from his best friend, and now his father had let the cat out of the bag.

“How could you?” Nick asked.

His father reached out, taking him by the arm and holding him steady. “Don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t lose your cool.”

Nick gave a wavering laugh. “Kind of hard not to. Do you know what you did?”

“Told someone the truth, which wasn’t mine to tell.”

“That’s,” Nick said, throat constricting, “one way of putting it.”

“Look at me,” his father said.

And so he did.

“When I told Matt, I did it...well, because it seemed like the right thing to do.”

“Dad.”

“No, listen. Matt didn’t lose his cool, he didn’t act disgusted, and he sure as hell didn’t act like a man gettin’ ready to lose his best friend.”

“You can’t…” Nick tried, shaking himself. “You can’t know that.”

“No, but I know you, and I know him well enough. Better yet, I seen how you boys are. He was shocked, and he sure as shit didn’t see it comin’, but he didn’t look mad or worried.”

Nick let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, I bet he was surprised, alright. There’s a reason I never told him, Dad!”

“I said, shocked, not surprised.”

“How is there a difference?”

“It’s the difference between a man bein’ told somethin’ he never even dreamed of and bein’ told somethin’ he realizes he kinda knew already.”

Nick covered his face. “Dad, he wasn’t supposed to know anything.”

“If that boy knows you half as well as I do, and I suspect he knows more than I ever will, then deep down, he did.”

Which did nothing to soothe Nick’s rising fear. Matt knowing, even subconsciously, meant Matt had been just fine with the way things had been. Dragging the secret out into the open meant they had to deal with it, and Nick had been trying not to deal with it for over a decade.

“And that’s the problem,” his father said.

Nick blinked slowly, only belatedly realizing he’d spoken his thoughts aloud. He closed his eyes, shaking his head as he tried to grasp the upheaval of everything that had been his life only moments before.

“Didn’t really think it through, should’ve known somethin’ would come up to make you wonder. I’m sorry, Nick, I really am. I wasn’t tryin’ to upset you.”

“But you did anyway,” Nick ground out.

His father’s hand squeezed his arm. “Talk to him. The last thing either of ya wanna be doin’ with this is leave it be. Think first, deal with it first, then deal with it with him. Whatever happens, that boy is still gonna be at your side.”

Nick shook his head, pulled his arm from his father’s grip, and stepped away. He didn’t want to talk about this anymore. He didn’t want to hear whatever his father had to say. What he wanted was to get the hell away from the man and the sounds of laughter and music he could still hear.

“Nick,” his father began, eyes wide.

“I need to go,” Nick told him, taking another step back.

“Where?”

“Home, well, the home I have right now. I just need to go.”

He stepped back again, holding a hand up to stop his father from getting closer.

Nick knew his father had only been trying to help, and while it was in a shitty way, it had come from a good place.

This was his dad, who had been there for him his whole life and even now, after everything, was trying to help.

But he couldn’t face him, couldn’t deal with him.

“I need to go,” he repeated before turning and hurrying out of the room.

He’d hoped silence, and the bottle of rum he’d found in the cabinet at Dakota house, would have been enough to help. While it had certainly taken the edge off his growing panic, it hadn’t done anything to dull the knowledge of what Matt finally knew.

He snorted, pouring another glass and drinking it smoothly.

It had stopped making him cringe and shiver after the first few drinks.

It was probably a good thing he’d eaten before diving mouth-first into the bottle, otherwise, he had no idea what state he might have ended up in.

As he eyed the bottle, realizing there were only a few drinks left, he considered maybe he should’ve gone without eating.

At least then, he could have guaranteed a little more oblivion.

Sighing, he set the bottle aside as he sat in front of the couch, determining that he should probably wait to finish the bottle.

He wanted to make sure the alcohol lasted in his system, and draining the bottle just meant a strong buzz, but a short-term one.

At least, that was the logic he was working off.

And with that course set in his head, it took no time for his mind to flit back to his problem. This time, he groaned, wondering what the hell he was going to do when he had to face Matt again. The whole day, Matt had known Nick’s most closely guarded secret, and he’d been none the wiser.

“Jesus, Dad,” he muttered, wondering what the hell the man had been thinking.

A shadow fell over him, followed by a voice he wasn’t ready to deal with yet. “He’s back in the main house, still drinking. Like father like son, apparently.”

Nick winced, letting his head flop back onto the couch cushion and looking up into Matt’s face. His friend’s features were pinched, which could have shown worry, but there was a curl to his lips that told Nick he also wasn’t very happy.

“Hi,” Nick murmured.

Matt arched a brow. “Hi.”

“I’m a little drunk,” Nick told him unnecessarily.

Matt hummed. “Yes, I can see that...and smell it.”

Nick let his head flop to the side, looking sidelong at the mostly empty bottle beside him. “Yeah, sorry about that. Rum.”

“You hate rum.”

“Yeah.”

Matt rounded the couch, getting a better view of the bottle. “Uh, how full was that when you found it?”

“Uh,” Nick said thoughtfully. “A swig?”

“A swig,” Matt repeated. “A swig gone, you mean. Jesus, Nick.”

“Merry Christmas,” Nick proclaimed, trying to be cheerful.

Matt frowned. “You’ve got another hour or so before you can say that. What are you doing?”

“Drinking.”

“Right. Other than drinking.”

“Sitting.”

“Nick.”

“I’m also thinking.”