21. Salem
SALEM
B lue wakes up in my arms. In the middle of the night, I found him, back turned toward me, on the other side of the bed, and I nestled closer to him.
“Mornin’.” I kiss his neck.
He grunts and burrows deeper into his pillow.
According to my watch, I have under an hour to relieve my dog sitter.
My hand caresses his stomach, then trails up to massage his nipple.
A low moan rumbles from underneath the pillow.
He pushes back, rubbing up against my erection.
We both still at the muffle of voices seeping through the door.
His head darts up from under the pillow.
“Nooo.” He snatches his phone from the nightstand. He groans, staring at the screen.
“What’s the matter?”
“It’s the third Sunday.”
“Okay.” My gaze follows his where it’s locked on the door.
“I’m sorry. Fuck.”
I rub his arm, finding it clammy.
“My parents are here. They meet Ana?s for family brunch every third Sunday.”
“Oh, cool. I dig family.”
“Not this one,” he grumbles, climbing out of bed. “Let’s brush our teeth and get dressed.” His voice is deflated, like he’s losing air.
“Hey, hey, hold up.” I reach for him. “I get it if you don’t want me to meet your family. I can just bounce.”
“Nah, it isn’t that.”
A man’s voice gets louder, pulling Blue’s attention back to the door. When it doesn’t sound like anyone is about to burst in, he says, “I don’t really mess with them.”
“Oh. Why?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Okay. What can I do?”
“When we get out there, let me take the lead?”
“Of course. I got you.”
Three heads turn in our direction as we enter the living room. Two I recognize from television, and one from the picture on the desk.
“Arnaz?” His mother’s face lights up. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“Hey, Mom,” he says, stiffly accepting her kiss on his cheek.
Round-tipped nose, sharp cheekbones, a full bottom lip just like Blue’s. Tall and curvy, her hair is cropped low in a tapered bob. She has a deep brown complexion similar to my mother’s.
“Hi, Salem,” she says, extending her hand to me. “I watched your press conference.” Her gaze dances between me and Blue. “I’m Liz.”
“Hi, Liz,” I reply, shaking her hand.
I’ve met a lot of famous people, but it’s…different coming face-to-face with the anchorwoman who delivered the news to you and your family for your entire childhood.
Blue kneels in front of Ana?s, who’s lying across the couch with a pillow between her legs. Her eyes have a delicate crescent-moon curve. They’re foggy as she whispers, “I’m so sorry. I forgot.”
“Why are you sorry, darling?” their mother asks. “And why didn’t you call us to come over last night if you were sick?”
“It’s okay,” he replies softly to his sister. “How are you?”
“Woozy from the painkillers.”
“I have breakfast coming for you.” He kisses her forehead. “You want cinnamon tea?”
She nods and tries to sit up, but Blue tells her to rest.
“You just declined my offer to make tea,” Liz replies.
The sudden feel of two torches being waved in my direction shifts my gaze to the green lasers beamed at me.
“Sir.” I nod to Blue’s dad, who’s everywhere on TV these days.
He flashes a bright-white smile. “Hi, son.”
“His name is Salem,” Blue says with a sharpness that locks us all in place. He nods for me to come closer to him. “Meet my sister and best friend.”
I cross the room and crouch to Ana?s’s level. “Hi. I’m sorry you aren’t feeling well.”
She grins, and it’s warm but kind of fragile, like it’s costing her something. “Hi, Salem.”
I release her hand and notice the blood-red lips with fangs and a black tongue tatted on the inside of her arm.
“You and I will be best friends too,” she says, with a certainty that makes me smile. “Don’t leave without giving me your number.”
Blue scoffs, and she rolls her eyes. “Don’t look at him. He doesn’t like to share his friends.”
We both laugh.
Their dad clears his throat. “Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” he asks Blue.
All the light drains from his face. “I’ll be right back with your tea.”
“I’m talking to you.” His dad flies out of his seat to block Blue’s path.
Blue jerks back. “No. And don’t touch me.”
“Son, hold on,” his dad insists.
“Carter, stop,” Ana?s pleads.
“Don’t call me that,” he snaps. “I’m your father.”
“Don’t talk to her like that,” Blue growls back.
“I am your father, and you will refer to me?—”
“Yo, you want him to go?” Blue asks Ana?s.
“Excuse me!” Carter scoffs.
“No, it’s okay,” she replies, a tremble in her voice.
“Arnaz.” He moves like he’s going to grasp Blue’s arm, but Blue evades his reach before squaring up in his face.
“What did I just say?” The grit in Blue’s voice has me moving to his side.
His mother beats me there. “Whoa,” she says, trying to butt in between them. “Let’s all take a breath.”
The media overhypes their resemblance. Besides their eye color, tatted skin, and height, everything about Carter and Blue is different. There are the obvious differences like Carter’s white skin and jet-black hair, but where Carter is big and broad, Blue is chiseled and slim.
On second thought, he may have his mom’s downturned eyes, but the powerful rage and razor-sharp glare emanating from him are an exact replica of his father’s.
“Hey,” I place my hand on his back. “How about you and I go make that tea?”
“This doesn’t concern you,” Carter snipes at me.
“Don’t talk to him,” Blue sneers. “Don’t even fucking look at him.”
“It actually does, sir. I care about him, and he’s upset.”
“You care about him?” Carter repeats, glaring daggers at me. “This is my family.”
“There aren’t any cameras here,” Blue scoffs. “You can knock off the good father act.”
“You’re such a big man now, huh? Can disrespect me?—”
“Carter, stop.” Ana?s moves to stand. With effort, she manages to straighten her back. But her eyes…
Whoa!
I dart across the room and catch her just as her knees buckle.
“Ana?s?” Liz races over. “What’s wrong, honey?”
“I’m fine.” Her hands anchor to my arm as she stands upright.
“Let’s get you food.” Blue transfers her to his arms and walks her toward her bedroom.
“I’m fine, really. I just need to lie down.”
Carter, face stricken, moves in to help but freezes when Blue glares at him.
“Isn’t there some tax write-off gala you’re both missing?” he directs to his mother. “Can you just take your husband and go?”
“Now, that’s enough,” Carter snaps.
“No, Carter. Stop,” Liz says, wrapping her arms around herself. “It’s the least we deserve.” She crosses the room and picks up her bag.
“We love you.” Her voice is thick with emotion. “We only want to fix what we’ve broken. I don’t know how to do that if you two won’t let us in.”
Ana?s’s eyes well, but Blue’s face is neutral, like Liz hadn’t spoken.
“We’ll leave.” She raises her hands and backs off. “Please make sure she eats. We brought food. It’s in the kitchen.”
Carter stands there, between his wife and where his children huddle together. He opens his mouth, but the words are caught.
“Just go, man,” Blue says.
Carter’s face tightens like he’s going to hold his ground, but his chest caves and he walks out.
“Come on,” Blue says, helping Ana?s to her room.
A few minutes later he finds me in the kitchen, making Ana?s a plate.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“I should probably hang with her until I gotta catch my bus.”
I nod, then repeat, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He rubs his neck.
My stomach feels heavy from ingesting what felt like a lifetime of pain in a span of minutes, so it’s hard for me to buy the indifference in his voice.
I step toward him and wrap him up in a tight hug.
His arms hang limp, waves of coldness wafting from him, until his body softens in my arms, and his chest trembles against mine.
It’s gone in an instant as he pulls away.
“I should get back to her,” he says, staring at my chest.
I nod and hand him the plate.
“I’ll call you,” he replies, taking it.
There’s something in his voice that worsens the feeling in my stomach.