11. Xander
ELEVEN
Xander
Sometimes no matter how you’ve prepped for something it was never going to be easy.
Keeping my mind from diving into the gutter I gave Mason a small smile then turned to face his brother.
My best friend. This was going to suck. Still, it had to be done.
I’d spent too many years hiding things from the world.
I was not going to sneak around with Mason.
That would make what we felt for each other cheap and dirty.
To me it was neither of those things. It was glorious.
Rapturous. Enlightening. Man, I was tossing around a lot of religious terms for a man who didn’t do religion.
Maybe if spending time in church felt like holding Mason in my arms I might just start attending.
Eli stepped closer to place my gift on the small glass table. “Okay, what the fuck has happened? You two look like you robbed a bank? Oh hell, are you going all Point Break on me?”
We tried to laugh at the comment. That had been a huge movie for us when we were younger.
Eli always wanted to be Patrick Swayze and I longed to be Keanu.
Poor Mason was just one of the grubby underlings in a dead president’s mask.
The things we made him do. It was a wonder he could even stand me let alone love me. He loved me.
“Seriously, someone needs to get talking. Did Dunny streak along the beach again?” Eli prompted.
“No, nothing like that,” I hurried to say. No, thank God. One streaking Dunny incident had been enough to last me for ages. “It’s nothing bad. Sit down.”
He eyeballed us both then dropped into a chair, the metal legs grinding across the cement.
Mason took his seat between us. I had to assume he thought he would leap up and break up any fisticuffs that would break out.
As we both had several inches and probably forty pounds on him playing ref was cute.
Unrealistic but cute. Although Eli would never take a swing with Mason in the vicinity.
He loved his brother too much and knew his own strength.
Maybe having him there was a good idea after all.
I did not want a bloody nose on my birthday.
I’d heard the stories from Brady about his reaction to hearing Jared and his baby brother had been lovers. It hadn’t been pretty.
“Is someone sick?” Eli asked, his shoulders drawn up around his ears, tension deepening the furrows of his brow.
“No, it’s nothing bad,” I reiterated. I wished we had food out here or something to drink.
Anything to give me something to do with my hands.
At the moment, they were tapping madly on my thighs.
Then, as if to say “Enough!” Mason reached over to take my right hand.
He slid his fingers between mine and threw his jaw up as he did when he was feeling spunky.
“Xander and I are going to start dating,” he announced as if he were telling his brother about the weather. My gaze flew from Mason to Eli. I’d been hoping to build up to the announcement. Ease him into it by pointing out all my good qualities.
Eli sniggered. We sat there hands clasped. Eli snorted. We sat there. Eli wet his lips as the bemused smile he was wearing disappeared.
“Are you… ” He scratched his nose, a sure sign he was confused. “You’re serious?”
My fingers tightened around Mason’s. Suddenly, I was struck speechless. Some great captain I’d make. Freezing up when the shit hit the fan.
“Yes,” I coughed out. Mason nodded. Eli gawked and scratched his nose again.
“Since when?” Eli asked after a full moment of utter, deadly silence had fallen over us.
“I’ve loved Xander forever,” Mason said, his gaze touching mine.
I felt like the gift on the table. Wrapped up and ready for the right person to unwrap me.
To remove the lid that had kept me in the dark for so long.
To expose me to the light and warmth. Mason was pulling the ribbons free that had bound me for so many years.
“It was just recently that we got over ourselves and admitted how we felt.”
“You did that for me,” I said, my voice so gruff that it sounded like someone else speaking. Mason smiled softly. The urge to pull him into my lap and hold him forever was strong. “You took off my lid.” Mason’s brows beetled in confusion. “That sounded much better in my head.”
“Whoa. Just… fucking whoa,” Eli coughed out.
I tore my gaze from Mason to stare at my oldest and dearest friend.
“Just… fucking whoa.” He scrubbed at his face with his hands so hard I worried he might melt his face with sheer friction.
“Okay. This is… ” His hands fell to his lap.
He looked at me then his brother. “You’ve loved him forever? ”
“Yep,” Mason replied, popping the P then giving me a loving glance that made my toes curl. God this man did things to me with a single look that I’d never dared to imagine I would experience. “For ages.” His attention went back to Eli whose face was slack. Which was better than furious.
“Ages,” Eli mumbled. His gaze flickered to me. “Do not tell me that you’ve been eyeballing my little brother for ages. Because, dude, I will clean your fucking clock.”
“No, not for ages. Definitely not ages. But for a long time now I’ve had feelings for him that were way beyond friendship. But I wasn’t out, and he was off-limits.”
“Yes, okay!” Eli sat up and pointed at me. “Yes, off-limits. See, that’s the word my fucked brain was searching for.”
“It’s two words,” Mason commented.
“Do not grammar me right now!” Eli snapped before closing his eyes to do some yogic breathing. “I will not yell. I will not yell. I will not yell.”
Mason smiled at me, and I sensed that things might be okay. Hopefully.
“Okay, so off-limits. Why is he now on-limits? Mason, I swear if you tell me that’s not a real word, I will feed your measly ass to the damn seagulls.
” I looked skyward. There were quite a few gulls gliding overhead now.
Seeking out the warm currents so they could climb into the new day.
That was me. I was a gull. Just call me Xander Livingston Seagull.
God, I really needed to stop borrowing books from my parents.
“He’s on-limits now because I let down my walls and let him in,” I replied with candor.
Eli studied me intently, his lips flat to his teeth, his finger rubbing the side of his nose. “Uh-huh. Walls. Right. I’m not… I need to let this sink in. I’m trying hard not to punch you in the face for wheeling my little brother.”
“It’s appreciated,” I said, Mason’s fingers pinched between mine.
“Can we get something to eat and drink here? Something with vodka? What are those drinks you like when you drag me to Bella Mare for brunch, Skid?”
Mason made such a face that I had to snigger.
Skid. Man. I’d not heard that nickname for him for probably twenty years.
Poor Mason. You have one potty accident when you’re five.
Of course, their mother had nixed that name as soon as she’d heard it, saving Mason from the taunting that only an older brother could deliver.
I still missed their parents. They’d been good people.
“I hate you,” Mason grumbled but shook free of my death grip to ring up for some breakfast from the main desk. “We’d like three continental breakfasts and three mimosas sent to room eight while the bill is to go to room ten, right on my brother’s credit card because he’s being a jerk.”
Eli ignored Mason, his attention lingering on me.
“You need to promise me that you will never hurt him,” he stated forcefully.
“I love you, man. You’re like my twin, Xan.
If you hurt my brother, I will be forced to beat the shit out of you.
That would break my heart. So just don’t hurt him.
Ever. He’s all I have in this world. My family.
It’s all right here at this table and I do not want to lose either of you.
So, I’m going to be cool. I’m going to have a mimosa or twelve when they get here, and I’m going to say I wish you well.
But keep in mind that I will bust you up if you make him cry.
And I mean like bad crying not the crying he does when he stubs his toe or watches some goofy chick flick. ”
“The fact that you don’t cry when watching Steel Magnolias proves that you have no soul,” Mason parried as he reached out to take Eli’s big, scarred hand. A hand that looked much like mine.
I did the same. I stretched over the table to offer Eli my hand. Mason grabbed my other and there we sat, three men holding hands.
“All we need to do is break into a chorus of ‘Kumbaya,’” Eli snarked, breaking the tender moment. Which was fine, and totally Eli. He wasn’t one for big emotional displays. Truth be told, I wasn’t either but today was such a momentous day that a little emo was fine.
“Thanks, man.” I gave Eli’s thick fingers a squeeze then lifted Mason’s smaller hand to my lips. I kissed his knuckles, my eyes only for him now. “I promise I will never make you ugly cry.”
“Will you make me weep with sexual pleasure?” Mason asked breathlessly just like a 50s movie starlet.
“And that’s as much as I can hear this early in the morning. Where the fuck are those mimosas?” Eli barked as he shoved to his feet to walk off his unease. Mason winked at me. I could do nothing but grin like a man who’d just found the winning lottery ticket tucked away in his wallet.
By the time midnight came I truly did feel like Charlie Bucket.