Chapter 8 Rico
Rico
I’m nervous as I ring the doorbell and wait on the porch. I shouldn’t be. I was invited. But this isn’t exactly something I usually do.
I promised Jesse space, though. He’s been doing so well the past few days. But I’m hoping he’ll come to a decision about my crazy plan sooner rather than later. We haven’t openly discussed it since, but he’s been lost in thought a lot.
And still sober, as far as I can tell. It’s been over a week now, and even though he sometimes gets really mean and irrational, I can see he’s proud of himself.
I’m on tenterhooks, however. It’s like we’re in limbo while he weighs up the pros and cons of going back to rehab.
Well, what we’d have to do to get him back into rehab.
If he doesn’t want to risk it, I’m fully prepared to support him going to meetings and trying to tough it out on his own.
But I won’t lie, I’m feeling a little out of my depth.
I’ve had a lot of training over the years, but I’m not a therapist. In fact, I’ve been talking with our own counsellor at the station about some of this, knowing that she’s bound by patient confidentially.
I kept the slightly illegal parts hypothetical again, but I just needed a place to vent and make sure I’m not doing something absolutely insane.
I think both she and Captain Valentine are in agreement that I’m coloring outside the lines, which is in itself unusual for me. But neither of them have tried to stop me yet, so…
To be honest, I’ve had my hands full trying to placate Adam.
He’s going a little crazy with my constantly vague answers.
But I’ve sent him some photos and also bullied Jesse into sending a few simple proof-of-life messages, so he’s not running to Zurich Airport…
yet. I just hope I’m right that when (if) we tell him we’re getting married, he’s going to keep his head long enough to swallow the lie.
For Jesse’s sake. I know he’ll do anything to help his brother, but the shock might get the better of him.
Speaking of which, the door suddenly opens in front of my face, and I’m not sure who’s more startled. Me or Zahir Delacroix.
It only takes Del a second to recover, though. “You came!” he cries, throwing his arms around me. I laugh and awkwardly hug him back with the bottle of wine I’ve got clutched in my hand.
“Sorry if I’m late,” I say as he releases me.
I don’t have any excuse other than my own procrastination.
As much as I know logically it’s a good idea to get out of the house and let Jesse think, that’s been much easier to do when I’m going to work.
But socially…urgh. I’m still, right here on the porch, questioning whether the team is going to be weirded out by having their lieutenant show up. Is it going to kill the vibe?
But Del simply wraps his arm around my shoulder and drags me inside his new home. “Guys! Look who’s here!”
There are boxes literally everywhere. But from around them comes the majority of the One-Thirteen.
They all seem fucking delighted by my presence, and the tension in my chest eases just a little.
“Rico!” Ortiz yells as Bell and Kwon whoop and clap.
“Lieutenant, you made it,” Quick says, sounding genuinely happy as he claps my shoulder.
“And he’s not empty-handed,” Nelson adds, swiping the wine from my grasp. “Ohh, nice one, Rico.”
Hearing him use my first name is jarring, but not exactly in a bad way.
Our in-house therapist has also been encouraging me to think of them all by their given or nicknames as well, arguing it will help break down these glass walls I’ve had up for so long.
Today seems like the right time to make that switch… if I can.
I exhale and try not to look nervous as I smile at the group. “So this is the new place, huh, Del?”
At that moment, his husband, Colton Ross, sticks his head out from what I assume is the living room.
Like most places in this part of California, the architecture has a typical Spanish colonial revival feel to it, with terracotta floor tiles, white walls with open archways instead of doors, and dark wooden beams incorporated into the ceiling and staircase.
But I’m sure the newlyweds will make it their own in no time, especially as apparently Del is quite the secret artist, or so we’ve heard.
“Flores!” Colt cries. He’s got empty plates and beer bottles loaded up in his hands, but he grins and does his best to salute my way. “So glad you could make it! Welcome to our humble abode.”
The house way bigger than my apartment, but I don’t point that out. Colt and Del have walked a long, hard road to get where they are now, so it probably does feel quite humbling to them to finally be here, under the same roof as husbands.
It’s all quite romantic, really. I try not to think about possibly having my own husband sometime soon.
That would be a totally different scenario.
Still, I wonder if I could get a quiet moment with Colt later and pick his brains about how bad an idea getting married for an insurance claim would be.
Hypothetically, of course.
“Sorry about the mess,” Del says as the group disperses, either heading to the kitchen with Colt or to the living room where I’m being steered.
“Are you kidding?” I ask incredulously. “Didn’t you just move in yesterday?”
“This morning,” Del corrects me with a chuckle. “Sawyer and Lili insisted on helping, then Portia and Preston wanted to come over after work, so we figured why not throw a spur of the moment housewarming?”
“There’s no furniture, but we have plenty of alcohol and good company,” a strawberry-blonde woman says with a grin, extending an elegant, manicured hand my way. “Portia Bamford. I believe we met at the wedding.”
“I think we did,” I say, accepting her firm shake. “Nice to see you again. Rico Flores. I work with Del.”
“Colt’s parents tried to set us up,” she says without missing a beat. “Oh, so we would have actually met when that sushi bar fell on our heads, yes?” She turns and raises her eyes at Del.
“Um, yes,” he says, sounding sheepish. What a call that was.
“Well, I’m glad to see you on the other side of that happy ending,” I assure her with a laugh.
She lifts her wine glass. “Cheers to that.”
A guy with a Captain America sort of vibe stands up from where he’d been sitting in a camp chair talking with Bell—Lochlan—Beast…
whatever. My colleague’s boyfriend, Dario.
Lochlan didn’t even realize he was bi until Dario came into his life, and they’ve been together almost a year now.
Dario’s pretty shy, but I like him a lot.
He’s clearly good for Lochlan, who’s completely smitten by him.
They’ve been discussing getting their own place as well.
I wonder how long before the whole rest of the One-Thirteen is paired off?
Where will that leave me?
I shoo that complicated thought away and smile at the all-American guy who’s now standing by Portia. I vaguely remember him from the wedding as well, but not the sushi bar. I think.
“Preston Windward,” he says, giving me an equally firm shake. “Another friend of Colt’s.”
“Did his parents try and set you guys up, too?” I ask, slightly surprised by my own humor. Maybe I haven’t forgotten how to socialize, after all.
That gets a laugh from both him and Portia. “Definitely not,” he says, shaking his head. Ah, now that I think about it, I remember Colt’s parents had a bit of an issue with him coming out as gay. But from these guys’ expressions, I don’t think I’ve made a faux pas.
Damn it. Small talk is feeling like a muscle I haven’t strengthened in forever.
I’d wonder how I’m going to navigate the next few hours, but then Colt reappears, offering me a glass of the wine I brought along.
Although I absolutely don’t want to get drunk as that would be completely irresponsible to go back home to Jesse in such a state, I’m sure a little social lubricant will go a long way.
“Cheers to your new place,” I say, tapping drinks with Colt, Del, Portia and Preston.
The rest of the party is milling around, chatting and helping unpack boxes. I am slightly dubious as to how much the happy couple are appreciating Sawyer’s efforts to unwrap their coffee mugs. I just hope he doesn’t drop one.
Or all of them.
Lochlan comes back in and snuggles up beside Dario, sharing a plate of nibbles he presumably got them from the kitchen.
My heart pangs a little, seeing how they are together.
Dario’s previous relationship was really bad.
It’s so wonderful to see Lochlan doting on him like he’s the only guy in the world.
I’d do that for Jesse.
The thought takes me by surprise. Well, yeah, I guess I would.
I’m still fretting about what he’s eating and how frequently, given the state he’d been in back in LA.
And if we were pretending to be married…
I suppose cuddling with him like that would sell the rouse.
I’d be okay with that. Jesse seems like he hasn’t been hugged enough in his life.
And that’s something friends can do together, right? The thought wasn’t so weird.
I’m distracted when the doorbell chimes and we’re joined by young Teddy Foster and his new boyfriend, the one and only Cassius Garda.
I’m still getting used to the fact that a very famous former football player is now part of our regular friendship group.
He does seem like a pretty regular guy, though, when you forget about all the records he’s set and still holds, not to mention the Super Bowl rings.