Chapter 12
12
Ezra
“Are you awake?” A quiet voice cuts through the air.
“Mm-hmm.” I’ve been staring at the ceiling for over an hour now. Damn jet lag.
Millie snags her phone from the nightstand, its screen illuminating the room. “Ugh, it’s four a.m. I’m starving. I’m never going to fall back to sleep.”
“Alrighty then.” Tossing the sheets off, I hop out of bed. Only when the cool air hits my bare ass do I remember that I’m not wearing a stitch of clothing. Fuck it. I have no problem being nude. Maybe I was European in a past life.
“Pants,” she shouts, hurtling a pillow at my backside.
Chuckling, I strut to the bathroom, and when I return a few minutes later, she’s in the kitchen. She’s dressed in one of those attached shirt and shorts things, pouring sugar into her coffee. When she turns around, I’m greeted by a cup of hot water for my tea and… fuck , she’s not wearing a bra.
It’s too early for this. Waking up thinking about my half-hard cock against her bare stomach in the ocean was bad enough.
“Thanks.” My fingers brush over hers in the exchange .
“That better not be Viagra,” she says, nodding at the little blue pill I set on the counter.
“Very funny. It’s an antidepressant.”
I leave it at that. Talking about mental health makes people squirrelly; they either change the subject because of their own discomfort or they inject toxic positivity into the conversation.
“It’s great that you’re taking care of yourself. How do you feel?”
My heart clenches at the genuine question. Damn, her response is refreshing. I pop the pill into my mouth. “Good. I feel good. Thanks.” While I steep my tea, I say, “We should probably go to the store. Pick up some food.”
“Agree. At least Val provided eggs and toast. Is that all right with you for now?”
I nod, pulling out a pan from the cabinet.
Between cooking and eating breakfast together, dozing in front of the TV (because jet lag), and grocery shopping, we talk about everything and nothing. We touch briefly on my first impression of Kane—reserved yet open—and how we’re looking forward to getting to know him better. We talk about things we can do without overwhelming him, like renting a boat or going on a hike.
Millie mentions using the walk-in closet to record for the audio app because it has the best acoustics.
I can’t imagine listening to her perform. I especially can’t tell her I have a membership.
When the last of our groceries has been put away, I ask, “Do you want to go for a run with me?”
“Do you want a divorce?” she says without missing a beat.
A smile takes over unbidden. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”
“I think you and I have completely different definitions of fun, pumpkin .”
I bark out a laugh. She’s cute when she’s snarky.
The rhythmic pounding of shoes on pavement does little to drown out my thoughts of Millie. At the beach yesterday, she was so hard on her body. It doesn’t make sense. A year ago, she was obviously comfortable in her skin. What happened? If my mom taught me anything about feminism, it’s that a person should never comment on a woman’s body. Though I think telling them they look stunning is the exception. Sure, we aren’t really married, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make her feel good about herself. The question is how.
I mapped out my run ahead of time, creating a loop around Val’s neighborhood so I’d end up at the food trucks set up nearby. Google Maps advertised tacos, which will be the perfect way to reward Millie for putting up with my dad.
As I close in on the trucks, I slow my pace and watch for traffic. Once I’ve crossed the street, though, I halt completely. Ahead, my dad is there, facing away from me and gesticulating wildly to a couple of kids.
On further inspection, I realize he’s berating Kane and another boy about his age.
I take a tentative step forward to get a better listen, but not close enough to interrupt.
“This is who you’ve been spending time with?” my dad barks. “No wonder your grades are shit. You have no brain cells if you’re hanging out with this fucking fag.”
Kane flinches at my dad’s words.
“Are you a?—”
In two giant, swift strides, I step into the conversation and put myself between my dad and the boys. “What’s going on?”
In unison, both kids turn to me. Kane’s expression is… terrified? Sad? Both ?
“Dad?” I press for a response. He can be an ass, but I’ve never heard him spew hate in a person’s face like that. My stomach tightens in a knot, but I don’t dare pull my focus from him.
He stabs a finger at my brother. “I want him out. There’s no way I’m letting a fucking?—”
“Do not finish that goddamn sentence.” Lowering my voice, I command, “Walk away. Right. Now . I’ve got this.”
“Fine,” he spits, the faint smell of alcohol on his breath. “He’s your problem now.” He throws his hands in the air and kicks up dirt when he stomps away.
“The only problem is you,” I snarl.
He doesn’t hear me, or maybe he’s chosen to ignore me. Either way, he doesn’t turn or respond.
With a heavy sigh, I focus on the boys, and instantly, my heart sinks. There’s no mistaking the tears in Kane’s eyes.
His friend rests a sympathetic hand to his shoulder, but he pulls away.
“Forget him, dude,” the kid declares. “He’s a douche.”
“Hey,” I say, extending my hand. “I’m Ezra. Kane’s?—”
“Brother,” the friend finishes. “Yeah, I heard about you. I’m Mano.”
“Nice to meet you, Mano. I’m sorry about that. It was a dick move.” I refuse to apologize on behalf of my father, but the kid deserves some empathy.
“S’fine.” He shrugs. He’s tall like my brother but much leaner. Cut from years on a surfboard, if I had to guess. His frizzy dark hair falls past his shoulders. To be honest, he looks more like me than Kane does.
Kane sniffs and wipes his eyes. “What the fu—” He huffs. “What am I supposed to do now?”
“You’ll stay with me,” I say without hesitation .
“But—”
“No buts.” I wave a hand in the air and step up to the line for the food truck. “We’ll figure it out later.”
“What are you doing?” Kane peers around at the people still gawking at us.
“Getting tacos for Millie. Want any?”
Both boys shake their heads, and Mano leans in to whisper to Kane. I keep my focus fixed on the line ahead of me to give them some privacy as they quickly hug.
“What’ll it be?” a spritely woman calls from the truck after Mano says goodbye and takes off.
“Hmm, what does Millie like?” I mutter, scanning the chalkboard menu.
Kane side-eyes me. “You don’t know what kind of tacos your wife likes?”
Shit. “No—I—of course I do,” I fumble. “I’m just not sure what she’ll be in the mood for. Women. They’re complicated,” I add for effect.
The woman poised to take my order rolls her eyes and motions for the customer behind me.
Yeah, that’s fair.
“I wouldn’t know.” Smirking, Kane shrugs.
“Oh my god, did you just crack a joke?” I elbow him. “Listen. You don’t have to share anything you’re not ready to share, but Millie is…” Fuck, I can’t out my own wife— fake wife —that’s her story to share. I clear my throat. “Millie and I are allies. So we’re cool.”
“You’re cool ?” He says it like he’s mocking a fifty-five-year-old man trying to hang with “the youths.”
“Hey, don’t make this weird.” I grin, and I’ll be damned if he doesn’t flash the quickest of smiles.
Kane trails behind me as I unlock the gate that leads to the garage apartment. We kick off our shoes, and as I ascend the stairs, I call out, “Honey, I’m home. Are you decent?”
Behind me, Kane gags, making me chuckle.
“Of course I’m decent. Why would I be naked in front of—Oh.” Millie gasps as she spots us at the top of the stairs. “Right. Because we’re newlyweds and we’ve been doing nothing but having all the naked sex.”
I narrow my eyes, silently scolding her acting skills.
“Hi, Kane.” She tilts to the side and smiles at my brother, who has stopped behind me. “You’re lucky I’m completely covered up. I?—”
He barks out a laugh behind me. “Don’t worry, you’re not my type.”
“ Ouch .”
“I’m into dudes.” He shuffles to my side.
“Oh. That’s better, then.” She tackles him in a cool aunt-like hug and ruffles his scruffy hair.
By the way his eyes sparkle as he playfully bats her away, it’s obvious he enjoys her attention. My heart aches for this kid. I can only imagine how much he misses his mom’s affection.
With a chuckle, he throws a thumb my way. “He said you two are cool.”
“ He thinks he’s cool?” She points to me.
“Hey. Take that back. Or I’ll eat your taco.”
Millie snorts, her brows jumping to her hairline at my accidental euphemism. “You wouldn’t dare.”
I waggle my brows in a challenge. “Try me.”
I hold the bag above her head, and when she reaches for it, I tickle under her arm.
Kane and Millie get settled at the table while I head to the kitchen for drinks. When I come back, Kane has already inhaled a pork taco. Good thing I got extra .
“Want one?” he asks Millie, who’s sitting on his other side.
“No, thank you. I don’t eat pork.”
“What?” Kane says, like it’s sacrilege.
Honestly, in Hawaii, it sort of is.
“Yeah, I keep kosher,” she replies.
“You do?” I choke on my food, quickly eyeing Kane. Dammit. This is the second time I’ve let it slip that I don’t know my wife very well. “But you ate shrimp in Greece.”
“Ah, yes. Kosher except for shellfish because, gah ”—she tosses her head back—“I love shrimp.”
“A cherry-picking Jew like me.” I laugh.
“You’re Jewish? That’s cool,” Kane says around a mouthful of his third taco.
I huff out a laugh. “Oh, so you can say ‘cool,’ but I can’t?”
Though the meal started out lively, we quickly fall into an awkward silence. I’m racking my brain for ways to break the tension when Millie grabs a chicken taco and adds an extra dollop of guacamole to it.
“I’m picking up weird vibes. Does anyone want to fill me in on what’s going on?”
I study Kane, then Millie. When I turn back to Kane, I give him an encouraging nod, hoping he’ll open up to us.
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and lets out a long exhale. “So, it’s not like I was in the closet…”
Oh, we’re jumping right in. Okay, then.
“But I haven’t totally come out, you know? I never talked about it with my mom.” He takes a long sip of his water while we patiently wait. “I’m sure she suspected… I dunno, maybe not. She was so sick at the end.” Kane lowers his head and picks at a fleck of dust on the tabletop. “Probably too drugged up.”
Millie and I instinctively squeeze his shoulders, but neither of us speaks.
“I definitely didn’t feel comfortable telling Rob. Mano and I haven’t labeled our relationship or anything, but he’s been out for a while, and I guess we weren’t being as careful as we should have been.”
Millie frowns, her face a mask of confusion, so I quickly fill her in on the confrontation with my dad.
“Kane.” Though her jaw is tense and her breaths are harsh, her voice is controlled. “You shouldn’t have to be careful, and you shouldn’t have to hide who you are. But I understand being sort of in and sort of out of the closet.”
My brother blinks rapidly. “You do?”
“Yeah. I’m bi.” She straightens, her shoulders pulled back. “Married to a guy.”
“Who, me?” I scan the room in faux innocence.
With a genuine smile, she squeezes Kane’s arm. “My parents never gave me any reason to believe they wouldn’t be supportive, but it was still a confusing time. If I had a girlfriend, people assumed I was a lesbian, and if I was dating a guy, then they’d say, ‘Oh, it must have been a phase.’”
Kane huffs. “Yeah, bi erasure is real.”
“Totally.” Millie takes a bite of her taco, then, through a mouthful of food, asks, “Are you using condoms?”
“ Amelia .” Heart lurching, I look at Kane, who’s covering his face.
“What? Don’t you remember being a teenager?”
“Yes, but?—”
“But what? Safe sex is important. Oh, and clean fingernails.” She grabs Kane’s hand and inspects his nails with a hum. “Nice and trimmed too. Good job.” She rises and refills her water at the sink as if she didn’t just hand out sex advice like popcorn to my younger brother, whom we’ve both known for a whopping twenty-four hours. She really has no filter sometimes.
Why am I into it?
Not long after we clean up, Kane stands and heads to the top of the stairs, phone in his hand. “So, uh, thanks for dinner, but Mano’s here. His mom says I can stay with them for a little while.”
“Wait,” I call. “What about—I mean, I thought you’d stay here.”
He scans the living space, pausing on the small sofa. “Nah, man. I don’t want to get in the way of all the sex. ” He puts up air quotes, accompanied by a smirk.
Millie snorts beside me.
“But—”
She rests a hand on my forearm. “If that’s what makes you the most comfortable. We’re here for you.”
He gives her a sincere smile in return.
“I meant what I said.” I take a step forward and pull him into a hug. If Millie can do it, then so can I. “I’ll figure it out. We’ll figure it out. I promise.”
After he leaves, Millie slumps onto the sofa. “What are you going to do?”
“Fuck if I know.” My stomach twists into a tight knot as I sink onto the cushion next to her. “But I’ve gotta do something. He can’t go back there.”
“And your dad?” she asks, worrying her lip.
“What about him? I never want to see him again.”
“Seriously?”
I nod, determination growing alongside the dread that’s plagued me since I saw him shouting at Kane. “How can I? He was pretty shitty to me when I was a kid, but not like this. The worst he did was forget to pick me up from the beach or go an entire day without speaking to me because I didn’t take out the trash. He always made sure I had a bed to sleep in. Yet he’s throwing Kane out on the goddamn street. A kid who already doesn’t have a mother. What kind of monster does that?”
For a long moment, I’m swamped with one thought after another, my brain a chaotic mess.
Beside me, Millie sighs, pulling me back to reality. “I guess we can call the whole fake marriage off.”
My body stiffens in response to that suggestion. “No.”
“No?” She frowns, searching my face. “Why? You don’t have anything to prove to your dad now.”
“Yeah, but I can’t very well admit to Kane that I straight-up lied to him the moment I met him.”
“You should have thought about that before you flew me out here.” She propels herself off the sofa.
“Look, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, okay?” I rise to meet her and rough a hand down my face. “I’m in my thirties with a terrible dating record. This isn’t what you signed up for, but can you please not say anything to Kane until I figure out what to do next?”
Her eyes swim with anger. Shit. Is she mad at me ? Does she want to leave?
Holding my gaze, she sighs. “Fine. I’ll continue to play my role. But it’ll cost you double the foot rubs.” She pokes a finger into my chest. “This just went way past complicated,” she mumbles.
“I’m sorry.” Lips pressed together, I take her hand in mine. “I never expected this to happen. I figured I’d come out here, meet my long-lost half brother, catch a few waves and bond, then go home. Maybe stay in touch through stupid memes and the occasional FaceTime.” I release her hand with a sigh. “I’m going to shower.”
“Phew.” Her lips quirk, her exasperation evaporating. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but… ”
“Hey, watch it. I know where you sleep at night,” I tease. “I can’t believe we’ve only been here for two days. I’m exhausted.”
While the warm water does not wash away my worries, it does clear my head a bit. I’ll call my mom in the morning and ask for her advice. In the meantime, I’ve gotta up my game when it comes to knowing my wife better, or else Kane will figure out that we’re pretending.