The Hardest Part
JOSH WAS falling asleep by the time Liam pulled the Porsche (oh Lordy, what a sweet ride!) up to the building where Danny kept his pied á terre.
Originally he’d purchased the apartment so he could have a place to stay when he snuck into Glencoe to visit Josh, but after the reunion last year, he’d kept it because the mansion had filled up with hackers, thieves, grifters, and muscle, and it was always nice to have a place for Felix’s business contacts to stay.
It was like offering them hospitality without taking the risk that they’d recognize anybody from their extracurricular activities.
The building was sleek and modern—which was not what Liam associated with the Salingers at all, given everybody’s penchant for classic art—but inside, the place had been refurbished, claimed, loved.
A flowered Persian rug sat in the living room, surrounded by comfortable furniture such as stuffed couches with tapestry upholstery and a cherrywood coffee table that would have felt at home in a mansion much like Leon di Rossi’s, which Liam’d had the privilege of visiting.
The kitchen had once been black wood and white marble, but it had been redone too, with bright backsplashes behind the sink and stove and new cream countertops with flecks of matching colors in them.
There were two bedrooms with solid furniture and entertainment systems, and a small dining room, as well as stools surrounding the kitchen itself, which stood as an island in the apartment space.
The layout was ugly—Liam couldn’t argue—but every effort had been made to create something warm and welcoming, including the glorious art on the walls.
“New piece,” Josh mumbled, nodding at a spectacular series of tropical fish, each segment placed on a different wall around the living space.
“One of Tienne’s?” Liam asked. That poor fragile child he’d discovered in an alleyway had fulfilled every promise to become an amazing artist. He was still quiet and shy, but he and Stirling had formed a relationship of introverts that Liam thought of as a hidden glass ball full of wonders.
Only those who loved the two young men knew where to look for them, but knowing them was so worth the effort.
“From the trip to Barbados,” Josh confirmed, yawning. With an effort, he stood up straight and looked to Liam for direction. “Are we talking now?”
Liam, who had been poking into the two bedrooms, turned and laughed. “No. Which room do you stay in when you’re here?”
“The one on the corner,” Josh said. “I’ve got clothes in the drawers, stuff in the bathroom, whatever.”
“Good,” Liam said. “That’s where I’ve parked my bag.” His voice dropped. “Nothing dire tonight. I just….” Carefully, he moved into that stoic, wounded space and framed Josh’s slim waist with his hands. “I just really want to hold you. Is that so bad?”
Josh’s smile was like sunshine through clouds. “No,” he said, raising his face shyly for a kiss.
Liam answered, and for a moment, a blessedly quiet, private moment, it was the two of them, the feel of Josh in his arms, his taste, even his smell. Nothing overt—a subdued hint of aftershave, something airy, not earthbound, and sweat.
It was the latter that pulled Liam back, not because it was unpleasant but because they both smelled of it, and he wanted them to be comfortable.
“Have you had your pain med yet?” he asked.
Josh grimaced. “No, and that ibuprofen you had Hunter sneak me is wearing off.”
Liam chuckled. “The ibuprofen was Hunter’s idea. Something tells me that bloke knows a great deal about pain management.”
“Well, he is sleeping with Grace,” Josh said grimly, and Liam chuckled again. Grace’s mercurial temper was a good match for Hunter’s solid dependability, but it was a match nobody had seen coming and few had thought would last. Josh had, though.
Grace is like Peter Pan, Josh had told him when they’d been stuck in that cabin. Hunter doesn’t need him to grow up, Hunter just needs him to exist. As long as Hunter treats him like spun glass, I’m okay with them, you know?
But don’t you want your friend to be stronger? Liam remembered saying.
Oh he is. Liam could see him so clearly, lying on his side, fathomless brown eyes earnest with a love for his friend that Liam could only remember feeling for Danny.
Not a lover, but someone to be made family from sheer act of will.
Someday you will love Grace just like I do, if for no other reason than he kept me alive.
Liam hadn’t said then that it was done. For more moments like that one—Josh staring into his eyes, the light like spun gold through their porthole weaving magic between them—Liam would protect the spun-up, toe-shoed disaster like his own brother from that moment on.
He had that same feeling now, Josh in his arms, raising his face for another kiss, and Liam had to step back.
“Another painkiller,” he said, no-nonsense. “And a shower. And then bed. I’ll even let you bring snacks.”
Josh gave one of those smiles again, devastating because Josh was never shy, not with anybody else. He was brilliant and confident and determined and damned intense, but never shy. Not with Danny Lightfingers, Felix the Fox, and Lady Julia as his parents he wasn’t.
But he was with Liam.
“Perfect,” Josh said. Then with a coy little tilt of his head, “And more kissing?”
Liam brushed his lips, his stomach tightening with yearning. “God yes,” he breathed, and then he practically ran to the kitchen to get some water and some ibuprofen to get Josh to take his meds.
A HALF HOUR later, they were seated on the bed, a bag of crisps between them, watching, of all things, an animated feature called Bad Guys.
“I can’t even believe we’re watching this,” Liam muttered.
“For the twelfth time,” Josh said happily, munching. “Grace and I quote dialog.”
“Why? What even is that creature with all the teeth?”
“The shark or the piranha?”
“The wolf!” Liam said, eating another crisp in exasperation. “Why—”
“Because,” Josh said with the patience of a third-grade teacher, “they’re bad guys, but they’re really good guys. The police want to catch them, but they’re trying to be good. Do I have to explain the parallels here?”
Liam gave him a sour look. “Can I say my profession is not well represented here?”
Josh chuckled. “You haven’t even seen the end of the movie, when you guys look really bad.”
Liam laughed, but in his head he was remembering what Felix had said outside the hospital.
“What?” Josh asked, wiping some orange crisp dust from his lips with his one good hand.
Liam leaned forward and licked it off, grinning when he was done because Josh’s eyes were crossed, much like a child’s would be with an unruly pet.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Josh mumbled, licking his own lips between words. “And that tickled.”
Liam chuckled and leaned back against the pillows, grateful for this quiet between them. Too often around Josh, life was crazy, people were cattywampus, the stakes were dire, and a moment’s delay could mean catastrophe.
Liam wanted to be there for the quiet moments—the ones where no catastrophe would materialize if they took a breath and laughed together.
But that meant honesty. He moved the crisps and turned to his side, resting his head on his fist while Josh paused the movie.
“Felix thought that maybe you liked us law-and-order people because it was something your parents—all three of them—could never give you.”
Josh grunted. “We never did have the body count conversation, did we,” he stated, and Liam shook his head.
“I don’t need a number—”
“Three,” Josh said, “if you include the first guy I dated in high school.”
Liam clutched his chest. “You’re going to kill this old man before he has a chance to count your body!”
Josh booped his nose. “Look at those freckles,” he said happily. “How could I resist?”
Liam grinned at him, loving his sense of play, but stuck to the subject. “Yeah, so three. One was a copper—”
And Josh grimaced. “Two. I counted Nick Denning there.”
Liam’s heart thudded in his stomach as the implications hit him. “But you and Nick were never a thing,” he said. Josh had told him this, and Josh hadn’t lied to him, not once. Sure, he could put on a show for a mark, but the people in his life were inviolate. No grifting his friends.
“Well, no,” Josh said softly. “But… but I thought I really loved the guy. It was very tragic and star-crossed, since, you know, he was married and I wouldn’t.
But….” Josh booped his nose again, but this time it felt more like a caress.
“And then I fell into your arms, and Nick started to fade.” He shrugged. “Like the red from Van Gogh’s poppies.”
“I had no idea they used to be red,” Liam said, still stunned. “But Josh—”
Josh swallowed but kept eye contact.
“That leaves Sean.”
“Who was in the closet,” Josh said. “So not a lot of, you know, actual experience under my belt.” This grin wasn’t as confident. “A lot like running ops, you know? Lots of observation, but the rest of it is figuring out how things work.”
Liam couldn’t smile. He wanted to ask “Why me?” but they’d already established Josh had a bent for law enforcement. He wanted to say “Don’t play with my heart,” but the one thing he knew about these people—knew about Josh—was that when it came to the important stuff, nobody played to hurt.
Josh took in his silence, and his expression changed subtly, and Liam could feel Felix’s calm strength radiating from his son.
“You don’t know what to do with that, do you,” Josh stated softly.
Liam swallowed and closed his eyes. “I….” East Ender, boy. I’m a flatfoot who slept his way to a job I don’t deserve and have been riding your Uncle Danny’s coattails ever since.
“I’m careful,” Josh said, and this time it wasn’t Liam’s imagination. His touch on Liam’s cheek was a caress. “I watched the dads fall apart—not because they didn’t love each other, or me, or even my mom, but because sometimes love just hurts.”