Chapter 3
I’ll drive him home.
What the hell, Domenico? He lives two blocks from the bar. He doesn’t need a chauffeur.
I glance out the window. Rain needles the sidewalk, neon bleeding into puddles. Aunt Sofia would tan my hide if I let someone walk home in that. That’s all this is, I tell myself—basic decency. A ride, not a rescue. Definitely not an excuse to ask more about this Lucas guy.
Still… Beckett was wrecked today. And now he’s got Lucas coming to stay with him?
That doesn’t track. If this guy hurt him, why open the door?
Why make up the couch? Something in that story doesn’t add up, and it’s grinding at me like a pebble in my shoe.
So yeah, I’ll drive him. It’s raining. I’m polite.
And maybe I’ll finally hear the part he keeps avoiding.
After I offered Beckett a ride, he stormed off and parked himself with Jules and Mira.
Fantastic. Those three together? Always a bad idea with excellent execution.
Last week, Mira and Beckett popped every key off Jaxon’s keyboard and put them back in the wrong order.
I’ll admit it was funny. He spent a full hour on hold with tech support before he realized it.
I sigh, looking at my watch. This game of pool with Olly and Jasper is taking forever. I’m tired and feeling agitated.
Olly flaps a hand in front of my face. “Oh, Dom. Earth to Dom… Honey,” he calls over his shoulder. “What do we do when the big brooding Italian is broken?”
Jasper doesn’t miss a beat. “Easy. He’s got a ticklish spot just above his knee.”
He reaches out, and I catch his wrist midair. “Try it, and I’ll break every bone in your body.”
Olly squeezes himself between us. “Now, now.” He removes Jasper’s arm from my grip. “I really do enjoy Jasper’s bones. Some more than others.”
TMI, TMI.
Olly pats my chest. “I prescribe getting laid. I’ve heard that too much abstinence is terrible for mental health.”
I narrow my eyes and let out a low growl for effect. Olly squeaks and ducks behind Jasper. “See?” he whisper-shouts. “We are not at the joking stage of our friendship!”
“Baby, he’s harmless,” Jasper says, stepping in close like he wants proof. “He’s just a teddy bear, aren’t you, big guy?” He snaps his teeth at me because he has a death wish.
Olly’s eyes go wide. Self-preservation finally kicks in, and he tugs Jasper away by the elbow. “We’re going. We’re going.”
I sigh. No, I would never hurt Jasper, or Olly, or anyone.
I know what my size does in a room; the way I look usually gets me further than a shove ever could.
And if it doesn’t, I walk. Tonight, I’m walking—from the noise, from the poking, from the weird ache in my chest I don’t want to examine in public.
I scan the room. Beckett’s sagging against the bar, nodding at whatever Jules and Mira are rapid-firing at each other, eyes half-lidded, attention somewhere else entirely. He looks wrung out. My gaze softens without my permission.
That’s enough for me.
I grab my jacket, cut through the crowd, and tap his hip with two fingers. He turns, focus snapping into place the second he sees me.
“Hey, are you ready to go?”
Beckett jumps at the sound of my voice. “What? Oh, yeah,” he says, clearing his throat. “I’m ready to head out.”
We gather our things and make a round of quick goodbyes before we head to the front door. It’s no longer a downpour, which is good, but there’s still a light drizzle.
“It’s barely even raining anymore. I can walk,” Beckett says as we approach the door.
I raise one eyebrow. “You really think that’s gonna work on me?”
He sighs. “Fine, let’s do this.”
Before I even have time to pull my keys out of my pocket, Beckett takes off at a light jog toward my car.
I’m a few feet behind him when he grabs the passenger side door and pulls the handle.
He looks up at me incredulously when it doesn’t open.
I smirk, holding up my key fob and pressing the button.
The bewildered look on his face is adorable.
“There is such a thing as rain etiquette, ya know,” he yells over the top of the car and slides in.
As soon as we’re out of the rain and in the car, I start the engine and turn the heat up, hoping it doesn’t take too long to cut through the cool, damp air.
I pull out of the parking lot, driving down two blocks before pulling into the alley behind Ink Me and Dragonfly.
“Thanks for the ride. I know it was out of your way.”
We both stifle a laugh.
“Shut up,” I say, pushing against his arm, my hand lingering. His skin feels warm under my touch, sending a shiver down my spine.
He grabs the handle but doesn’t open the door. He’s quiet for a moment, looking out the windshield. “Why are you doing all this, Dom? Why are you so concerned about me?”
I could tell him the truth, that Jaxon asked me to watch out for him. That he’s been worried. Or that every time I’m in his presence, I fly to him like a moth to a flame.
“Why did you come back home?” I ask instead.
He’s quiet, chewing on his bottom lip before he pushes open the car door.
“Why does it matter?” he asks, eyes never making contact.
“Because you matter.”
He finally turns and looks at me. I can see the questions swirling behind those hazel eyes, and I hold on, hoping he doesn’t ask.
He gets out of the car without another word and jogs up the steps to his apartment over Ink Me. I don’t release the breath stuck in my chest until he opens his front door.
The shop was busy tonight. I had a client scheduled, who I’ve been working on a sleeve for over the last few months.
Then a bridal party booked, wanting to get matching tattoos.
I thought Mira was going to stab someone to death when they came in covered in glitter.
Jasper, of course, put on the Barbie soundtrack, causing us all to snicker.
Finally, the last of the giggling blondes leaves, and I’m ready for a hot shower and some headache medicine.
I rap my knuckles on Jaxon’s open door. “I’m heading out.”
“Oh—wait, Dom, before you go.”
I groan on reflex but step inside anyway, dragging a chair over. “What’s up?”
“You busy this weekend?”
“I work tomorrow,” I say, giving him a look. “Which you should know since you made the schedule.”
“I mean Sunday.”
I sift through my mental calendar: sandpaper, coffee, swearing at a pile of lumber. “Garage clean-out. It looks like a hardware store exploded.”
“Perfect.” He brightens in a way that makes me instantly suspicious.
“Could you swing by the apartment and check the washer? I don’t want Beckett hauling laundry to the laundromat anymore,” Jaxon asks, a pleading tone in his voice and fucking puppy dog eyes.
And Alex thinks he’s a Daddy? Psh! Please.
I don’t want Beckett to have to keep going to the laundromat either. I know that can get expensive.
I nod my head. “Yeah, do you want me to look at the window and floorboards while I’m there?”
Jaxon breaks out into a toothy grin. “If you could, that’d be great. Marcus and Jacob are throwing a birthday party for one of the kids Alex feels a close connection with at the shelter. It’s all being thrown together last minute.”
“Did anyone ask Olly to make a cake? I had one at The Diner the other night. It was so good. You know he would,” I ask.
“Jasper said not to worry because he was handling the cake.”
“Oh, really,” I muse.
Jaxon holds up his hands. “I chose not to ask any more follow-up questions. Plus, I don’t want to upset the order of the universe right now. Olly just brought me fresh toffee bars.”
“Smart man,” I say and immediately scan the room. Jaxon’s been known to hide said pastry items instead of sharing like Olly told him to.
“You won’t find them, so don’t even try. Now, when I talked to Beckett, he said he’d be home all day, so anytime is fine.” Jaxon leans in close. “Have you been able to figure out why he came home?”
“No,” I say, and my jaw tightens before I can stop it. “But something’s up. Spencer says he’s been on edge. Just the other day, I heard him on the phone with this Lucas kid from California. He was pretty upset when they hung up.”
Jaxon leans back in his chair, worry etched on his face.
“Look, I’ll see what I can find out this weekend. But maybe he’ll tell us when he’s ready. Have you talked to Finn?”
“Finn says it’s not his story to tell.” Jaxon huffs. “Great for loyalty, useless for intel.”
I hesitate before adding, “I overheard Beckett tell Finn that Lucas might come stay for a few weeks.”
“Maybe this is good. What do they say? Keep your friends close but your enemies closer? A look into their friendship will give us some clues.” Jaxon tilts his head. “Do you know what kind of friendship they have?”
My hackles rise at the thought. “I have no idea,” I mutter, too fast. The little flare of jealousy hits ugly and obvious. I scrub a hand over my face. “Doesn’t matter. It’s his life.”
The last thing I need is to think about Beckett with whoever the fuck this Lucas jerk is.
I really need to get a hold of myself. Sometimes I worry I’m crossing a line with Beckett, and none of this is any of my business.
I know something’s going on, though, and growing up, I was always taught that we look out for our friends and family. Beckett is part of this family, and he’s a… friend.
He’s kind and caring. He was there for Finn when he needed someone. He’s a hell of a chef. And he has never once asked anyone for anything in return.
He deserves to have someone care if he’s okay.