Page 11 of The Outcast (Breakfast at Bennett’s #4)
CHAPTER 11
ETHAN
There was nothing wrong with the frequency Ethan thought about Mickey in a day. Nothing at all. It was natural to think of someone you’d been spending time with. That’s what Ethan told himself, though he had his doubts about the honesty behind his statement.
Truth be told, he liked Mickey. Despite the things the man had been through, there was a softness about him. His hardships hadn’t sharpened his edges. And so what if Ethan liked coming home to him? That didn’t mean much. When Taylor had moved into the basement apartment, Ethan had taken it in stride. Outwardly.
He was glad that his boys were doing so well for themselves, and he was thankful he got to see them as often as he did. But going home to an empty house was something Ethan had never really gotten used to.
Mickey being there when he got home every day had put a spotlight on just how fucking lonely Ethan was. Somewhere along the way, while raising kids and running a business, Ethan had forgotten that he was allowed to have a life. And now that he’d been reminded of that, he wasn’t sure how to go about making a change.
Ethan left the diner in the capable hands of the afternoon shift and went home. Ever since Mickey had come to stay with him, Ethan looked forward to going home and no longer found a million excuses to linger at the diner. He could tell himself it was because he wanted to check in on Mickey, but that would only be half the truth.
Whenever Ethan closed his eyes, he saw Mickey sitting in front of the fire with Ethan’s beat-up guitar on his lap. The look of concentration on Mickey’s face had been almost magical when it transformed into happiness the first time he played a chord right.
Any idiot could see that Mickey was attractive. Though he was still a bit on the thin side, his time at Ethan’s had already started to change that. Now that he was feeling better and rested, the bags under his eyes had disappeared. Mickey had eyes like warm caramel and most of the time they were haunted, but every so often it was like Ethan made him forget and that haunted look would go away.
Ethan shouldn’t think about his attraction to Mickey. He knew better. Mickey was vulnerable and he’d been hurt by people before. Ethan wanted to protect him from that; he didn’t want to be the cause of more hurt. Ethan might not hurt Mickey, and his kids wouldn’t mean to—they were great people. But the simple truth remained that Ethan had never come out to his kids.
He’d loved their mother. She’d been the light of his life. His sun. His guiding star. And then she was taken from them and Ethan had three kids to raise on his own. A diner to run. A house to keep up. There wasn’t time for dating even if Ethan had wanted to. He didn’t. Not at first and not for a long time. Even when years had gone by and taken some of the sting out of her loss, Ethan hadn’t been interested in dating.
Jonah was probably in college the first time Ethan realized he might like to date someone. He’d had a long-standing flirt going with the woman who worked at the grocery store Ethan frequented. She was a bit younger than him, but not scandalously so. In the end, Ethan had waited too long to ask her out and she’d coupled up.
But it had opened his eyes to the fact that he was ready to move on. His wife had known about his bisexuality—she’d known everything about him. He rubbed at the lingering ache in his chest. Would anyone know him as well as she had? Did he want them to?
His thoughts went back to Mickey. Mickey with the haunted eyes and the closet full of skeletons.
The skeletons weren’t all Mickey’s, though. That was the thing about being abused the way Mickey had been. That baggage belonged to his ex and Mickey had been convinced it was his. That he had to keep people from knowing all about the things that were done to him as though Mickey were the one who should be ashamed when the shame belonged to his ex.
Ethan was aware that his every thought circled back to Mickey and the only reason he didn’t stop himself was because it wouldn’t go anywhere. Mickey was still fragile. Still healing. And although Ethan had kids Mickey’s age, Mickey deserved someone who knew what they were doing. Ethan’s experience with men could best be described as lacking.
After the woman at the grocery store, Ethan had driven out of town and went to a bar elsewhere. And if the bar was a gay bar? Well, that was okay because Ethan was bisexual. He just hadn’t had a lot of opportunity to explore sex with someone of the same gender.
But there in that bar, under the strobe lights with music pulsing too loud in his ears and too heavy in his chest, Ethan had felt at home. Not with the music or the sickening lights, but with the hand that had slipped into his and the strong body that pinned him against the wall. The tongue that slipped into Ethan’s willing mouth and the smell of musk and aftershave that left Ethan feeling lightheaded.
Ever since that night, Ethan had known in his bones that his next partner would be a man. He’d loved a woman and he knew that loving another one wouldn’t diminish that, but there was something intoxicating about being with a man. There was something about it that had lit Ethan up like never before. It wasn’t that he was suddenly not attracted to women, but it was men who caught his eye more often than not now. And it was a specific man whom Ethan had become all but obsessed with recently.
“Mickey, I’m home.” Ethan pushed the front door closed with his foot and set his bags of groceries down so he could pull his boots off before gathering them back up and went to the kitchen to put things away.
Down the hall the toilet flushed and Ethan heard the taps run. A moment later, Mickey entered the kitchen, his hands stuffed in his pockets. Taylor had chatted earlier about stopping by the house with clothes for Mickey and it was good to see that Mickey had been willing to take the things that were offered to him. Not everyone was receptive to help, for a lot of reasons. But Ethan was thankful that Mickey let them help him. At least a little. Ethan would do a lot more for him if he thought he could get away with it.
“Do you need help?” Mickey asked.
“I’m fine. How was your day? Are you excited for your first shift?” Ethan was glad Shane had given Mickey a chance and hired him to work at The Anchor.
“It was fine. Taylor was here.” Mickey looked like there was more he wanted to say, but whatever it was it disappeared back into him like it was swallowed up by all the other things that haunted him.
“Did you practice your chords?” Ethan asked playfully, hoping to lighten the mood. It worked, because the corner of Mickey’s mouth upturned and he smirked at Ethan.
“Some. My fingers hurt like a bitch.”
“It goes away after a while. Just keep at it. I bought us dessert.” Ethan pulled an apple pie out of the grocery bag. “Apple pie and ice cream.”
“I haven’t had that in years.” Mickey looked at the pie and his eyes softened and Ethan could see the yearning swell up in them.
He took the pie out of the box and popped it into the oven. “We’ll have pie and ice cream first tonight.”
Mickey looked at him, stunned. Then a smile broke and Mickey’s face lit up. Any trace of sadness vanished from his expression. His eyes glimmered and his smile sent a beam of want straight to Ethan’s stupid dick. Holy shit. He’d tried to deny what he felt because if he didn’t acknowledge it, he didn’t feel it. It wasn’t true. But it was.
Ethan was attracted to Mickey. But it was more than that. It went deeper than just the physical. He liked Mickey. Mickey, despite the shit he’d been through, was pleasant and sweet. Easy to talk to. Mickey was interesting and captivating. Ethan wanted to make him happy. He wanted to take care of him. He just fucking wanted him and when the hell did that happen?
Mickey stood by quietly and watched as Ethan put the rest of the groceries away and got plates out. He checked on the pie and once it was warmed through, Ethan took it out of the oven and served them both a generous slice. He topped it with a scoop of ice cream each and they stood in the kitchen with their forks and ate pie for dinner.
It felt scandalous, like they were getting away with something.
“I must admit, pie for dinner hits different.” Mickey popped another forkful in his mouth—which Ethan wasn’t staring at. Not at all. Ethan cut his gaze down to his own plate and found himself agreeing with Mickey.
“It feels like we’re breaking some sort of rule. I never let my kids have dessert for dinner. But I don’t have to set a good example anymore.”
“My parents wouldn’t have either, but not because they were good parents who wanted to set an example.” Mickey’s words came out calm and without malice or hurt. He sounded like he was stating facts. The sky is blue. Snow is cold. My mom and dad were bad parents.
“Maybe I’ll surprise everyone at the next fire night and we’ll do dessert for dinner.”
Mickey laughed. “I’m a bad influence.”
“I think you’re the opposite actually.” Ethan’s gaze caught Mickey’s and he held it, wanting Mickey to see the sincerity he tried to pour through his expression. Mickey’s cheeks darkened a little and he pulled his gaze away, focusing again on his pie.
“Well, that makes one of us.” Mickey flinched as though he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.
How could he tell Mickey that it was because of him that Ethan didn’t feel lonely? How could he tell him that Mickey had reminded Ethan that he deserved to have a life outside of work? That it was okay to want someone to come home to. How could he tell him all that without revealing the strange way his stomach fluttered when he thought of Mickey? He couldn’t.
“One day you’ll understand and, until then, I’ll believe it enough for both of us.”
Mickey scoffed and stabbed at his pie. “Hard to believe I’m a good anything.”
“That’s because, excuse my frankness here, your parents don’t sound like they did you much good when you were home, and your ex certainly didn’t when you left. Trust me, there’s a lot of good in you. You just have trouble seeing it because you haven’t been around people who wanted you to.”
Ethan thought he might have said too much, or been too blunt about the things he did say, because there was so much more that he held back. It took a long time, during which they slowly finished their pie, but Mickey eventually looked at him.
“I think you’re the best person I’ve ever met,” Mickey whispered. “Excuse me.”
Mickey put his plate in the sink then disappeared down the hallway. Ethan heard the telltale squeak of the guest room door and let out a heavy sigh.
He hadn’t meant to upset Mickey, but it was clear that he had. Ethan couldn’t regret what he’d said, though. It was high time Mickey heard good things about himself and being nice to Mickey wasn’t a hardship.
Ethan put his plate in the sink and went to the living room. Usually, Mickey was there too, and they’d chat or watch TV together. Tonight, Ethan grabbed his guitar and sat by the fire and started to play.