Page 13

Chapter Twelve

LAIKEN

I’m waiting around the corner, just out of sight, when there’s a tapping on my sliding doors. I force myself to remain there for a count of fifteen before answering. Lie knows he can let himself in, but he hasn’t since he was thirteen or fourteen.

For just a second, I see a shadow of his eight-year-old self, shoving the door open and running through the house with mad laughter as Nason chases him with a water pistol. A surge of guilt and maybe a little cringe rush through me.

But when I walk around the corner and twenty-year-old Lie gives me a dubious smile through the glass door, the cringe vanishes, replaced by a tight tug in my chest. The guilt doesn’t totally leave, though.

I slide the door open, and he looks at me demurely.

“For the record, I didn’t request help,” I tell him and grip the front of his shirt lightly to tug him inside.

“Nason asked what I was doing today, I said painting. He said he’d send you over to help.

Since I couldn’t think of a single valid reason to argue that I can actually share with him, here we are. ”

“That it’s my first day off in five days didn’t occur to you?” he asks, setting his water bottle on the counter.

“It did, and I said as much. Nason insisted you wouldn’t mind. If you want to head to Cash’s, leave your shirt here, and I’ll get some paint on it. You can grab it on your way home. You don’t have to paint with me.”

A beat passes as he stares into my eyes. I don’t actually want him to leave. I’m about ready to tell him he can just hang out and keep me company when a smile twitches at the corner of his lips, and he closes the distance between us, pressing our bodies together.

His lips touch mine, and my arms wrap around him. We can’t spend the day kissing. I fucking want to, but we can’t. I’d love to spend the day doing a whole lot of things.

I pull my mouth from his. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to get sucked into my chores.”

He shrugs. “There are worse ways to spend the day. At least I get to stare at a hot, shirtless man all day.”

I huff, placing another quick kiss on his lips. “Want to cut in or roller?”

“I’ll cut for a while.”

We head into the living room, and Lie looks around. I’ve already got plastic all over everything, including taped to the floor. There’s a smattering of different color samples on one wall that Lie stops in front of.

“Why did you decide to paint?” he asks, examining my options.

“It’s been sixteen years, and I’m tired of mustard yellow.”

Lie snorts. “I’ve always thought your color choices were… interesting.”

“I didn’t choose them. Denise did.”

I watch as he moves the ladder close to the wall. I offer him the brush and a plastic cup of crisp, light gray paint and watch him climb up. That damn ass.

He’s wearing leggings and an oversized shirt that I think belongs to Nason. I can imagine him telling Nason he’ll help me paint, but he’s not ruining his clothes, so Nason produced an old tee.

“I don’t remember her,” Lie says.

For a second, I forget what we’re talking about. Oh, right. Denise. “I’m not surprised. You were pretty young when she left.”

“You weren’t married long. What happened?”

What happened, indeed. I frown as I roll my roller through the paint tray.

Lie mistakes my silence for discomfort in the conversation. “You don’t have to answer. I’m being nosy.”

“Nah. I’m just not sure what the answer is. I guess… I didn’t love her, and we couldn’t make it work.”

“Why did you get married?”

“Well…” I concentrated on covering the paint samples for a minute.

“I think because I watched how happy and in love Nason and Miranda were, and I wanted that. I wanted to be included in date things. Being a third wheel is fun and all, but if I had a partner, then we could do couple-things together. Nason and Miranda were already married when he introduced me to Denise in college, and I think I kind of pushed the idea. Neither of us was ready, nor were we right for each other. She moved to Kala with us, but left shortly after.”

I concentrate on painting for a while.

“Do you regret it? Marrying her? Divorcing her?”

“No. There were times right after she left when I wondered if I should have chased her. If I’d have made more of an effort to show her that I wanted her here, with me. Maybe we could have made it work.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No. I looked at Nason and Miranda and knew that’s not what we were. We would never share that kind of love because we weren’t in love. We tried this experiment, and it didn’t work.”

“I’m sorry.”

I glance at Lie. He’s watching me, leaning over the top of the ladder. His eyebrows are knit together and he looks sad.

I shake my head. “Don’t be. We got married for the wrong reasons. We divorced for the right reasons.”

“Was it because she thought mustard yellow belonged on all the living room walls?” Lie muses.

I laugh. “She was following the trend. We moved in and painted all the rooms. Redid the floors. Remodeled the kitchen and bathroom entirely.”

“I’m really impressed that you managed to get a house beside Dad,” Lie says. “Especially in the last few years, I’ve seen how scarce property is. How did you manage that?”

Chuckling, I shake my head. “Luck. When we moved to Kala, we moved into your house—all five of us. Conveniently, it had three bedrooms, which was perfect. It was an absolute miracle that the house next door went up for sale three months later. Denise and I were looking at one on Keone Reef, since that’s where all the houses were open at the time.

We fought for this house. It came down to Nason talking to the sellers—your neighbors who absolutely adored you—and telling them how important it was for your little family that we lived next door.

I probably had the lowest bid on the house, because Denise and I were young and had entry-level positions, but they chose us. ”

“I can’t imagine growing up without you next door,” Lie says. “I feel like my entire childhood would be different.”

“I can’t tell you how often I think about how fortunate we were that they were good people and chose the low bid to keep two young families together.”

“The world needs more people like that.”

“Absolutely.”

“Does this mean you’re going to paint all the rooms?”

I nod absently. “A few at a time. I figured the living room is the most offensive and the spare room has the least amount of furniture.”

Lie laughs. “I like that reasoning.”

Have I ever noticed how cute his laughter is? I glance at him over my shoulder. Lie is straddling the top of the ladder, sitting. His body is stretched so he can expertly follow the line of the ceiling. His tee raises, showing me the narrow curve of his waist.

“I only remember you’ve had one boyfriend after Denise,” Lie says. “Or am I missing someone?”

I gather more paint on my roller and turn back to the wall. “Yes. Carter. We dated for four years, which was longer than my entire relationship with Denise.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Denise and I married within six months of meeting and divorced within three years of knowing each other.”

“Wow. Whirlwind.”

“Yep.”

“What happened with Carter?”

“He wanted to move in. I didn’t want to share my space. He broke up with me, thinking that I’d change my mind to get him back, but that backfired on him because it felt like a weight lifted from my shoulders when we split.”

“You didn’t love him either.”

“Guess not. I thought I did.”

“You haven’t had a relationship since Carter, have you?”

“Nothing serious. Only casual.”

“I’m glad we’re covering this yellow. I’ve always hated it.”

“Such a polite child not to have said so.”

Lie laughs. “Are you sure? I feel like I’ve said it a lot.”

“Maybe to Nason. Never in front of me.”

“My parents must have taught me to be polite or something.”

I chuckle. “What about you?”

“Me?”

“I realize I have twenty years on you, but you’re old enough to have had some relationships.”

“Nineteen years,” Lie corrects, “and I’m not sure I’d consider high school relationships anything worth mentioning unless they last more than a month. Mine did not.”

“I always expected you and Cash to get together.”

Lie laughs. “Ohmygod, he’ll love that. His parents used to make subtle comments on that idea, too. We were never that. Ever. I think I crushed on him for all of six minutes when we were fourteen.”

I’m surprised by the way that pleases me.

Maybe it relieves me a little, too. Which is ridiculous.

This isn’t going anywhere. If for no other reason at all, I’m half convinced that I will never find someone who makes me want to spend my life with them.

I’ve tried twice and have felt immense relief when those relationships were over.

But bigger than that, this is Nason’s son. I still remember the day he was born. I remember holding him in my arms, the third person to do so. I remember babysitting him when his parents went out, changing his diaper, and camping in the backyard.

Everything about this is all levels of wrong. Bad.

Forbidden .

The word sends a shiver of excitement through me.

“Are you enjoying the bar?” I ask, needing to change the subject. I feel like this could lead somewhere neither of us need to go.

“There’s this co-worker who lets me suck him off in the break room,” he comments, as if he’s noting that the sun is out. “He’s super hot. Has that Daddy vibe, you know?”

I huff. “Yeah? Anything else?”

“I get tons of compliments from the customers. They all want a piece of what’s in my itty-bitty shorts. The number of comments I have on my cock would make me rich if I had a dollar for each.”

“You do wear the sluttiest shorts,” I agree.

“Someone seems to like my ass in them.”

That I do. So damn much. “I hope he knows you’re more than just a nice piece of ass.”

“Considering he hasn’t been that close to my ass, I think he’s got an idea.”

I chuckle. “What else?”

“I’m guessing maybe you’re fishing for a real answer.

So, honestly? I don’t hate it. I enjoy that there seem to be less entitled assholes expecting me to jump when they snap their fingers in my direction.

There are fewer rude people at bars, in my experience.

Everyone is there for a good time. Every night is different.

The variety of drinks keeps me on my toes. ”

“But?”

He hesitates. “I don’t think this is a career for me. My feet ache. There’s too much noise. It feels like busy work and… I don’t know. It’s not fulfilling. For me.” He quickly adds the last two words, making me smile.

“I know you’re not insulting the job, Lie.”

“I know you love bartending, and that’s cool. I think you’re a really great bartender. You’re fun to watch. The patrons adore you. But… it’s just not for me.”

“Noted.”

“I’m not quitting. It’s the least offensive job I’ve ever had, and I think Mom and Dad are relieved that I’m sticking with one for more than a week. I’m just saying.”

“What is it you want to do?”

Lie sighs. “I don’t know.” His answer sounds a little whiny and I grin. “I don’t have any ideas at all.”

“What is it you enjoy doing? If you could do anything at all for the entire day, every day, and not get tired of it, what would it be?”

He’s quiet for a long time. The only sound that surrounds us is the sound of paint from the roller going on the wall. We’ve only gotten through half a wall, and already the room feels far more welcoming. Cooler. Brighter. God, I should have done this years ago.

“I don’t really know,” Lie says after some time has passed.

“I know I don’t want to leave Kala. I love it here.

I’ve had a glimpse into the outside world, and it’s awful.

I also think Kala has a lot of opportunities and options, so maybe I need to see what there is and see if it speaks to me, but…

I don’t know. I can’t imagine myself in any of those roles. ”

“What is your absolute favorite thing now? Anything at all?”

I’m surprised when he giggles. “Dicks.”

I roll my eyes, pausing my painting to look at him. Lie laughs at my expression.

“No. Well, yes, but no. I mean dick things. Like, I have all these little figures with dick heads and dick horns, dicks instead of tentacles. Dick-tipped straws and old paintings of men marrying their dicks in wagons. My favorite item right now is this huge coffee-table book that’s on the study of the phallus in different cultures throughout history.

It’s fascinating. It’s even more fascinating to see all the gay depictions in historical paintings. I love to learn about it.”

“Okay, so… dicks are your biggest passion.”

Lie laughs. “Come on, Laiken. You can’t tell me there is a more beautiful body part of any gender than a gorgeous hard dick. The beautiful curve. Smooth, rimmed mushroom tip. Those sexy damn veins. They come in all kinds of shapes and sizes. Every single one of them is beautiful.”

I study him as he carefully follows the trim of the window down. When he feels me watching him, his hand pauses, and his eyes meet mine. Heat fills the room. A smile climbs his pretty lips, and he turns back to the window, continuing his perfect line.

As I study him, I realize something that may be a little concerning. This isn’t only a physical attraction I feel toward Lie. Yes, he’s stunning. He takes my breath away in a way no one ever has before.

But it’s more than that. I completely adore this man.

Not this boy. He hasn’t been a boy in a very long time.

He’s an adult. A smart, kind, thoughtful, playful man.

And I still love spending time with him as I always have.

Only now, the dynamic has changed. I never thought I’d love spending time with someone as much as that laughing young boy who I used to watch movies and play cards with.

I was wrong. I could spend hours just talking to Lie and never get tired of his company.

That’s scary for a lot of reasons.