11. Nate
Chapter Eleven
NATE
Carter’s fingers glided along the piano keys, and magic swirled around the vast living room. I had once told him how incredible the melody he’d improvised was, and Carter had blinked at me, all confused. “That’s just warm-up,” he’d said, a cocky smirk on his sexy lips.
I stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows with a whiskey on ice in my hand. The city lights lit the night sky, glimmering far around. People, cars, and the sounds of life were all outside our little universe. Here, Carter and I ruled and made all the wonders come to life.
Carter’s melody was pure improv. He wasn’t in the habit of writing his music down. He swore he would remember it if it was good enough. But it was his low opinion of his music that made a lot of the sounds fade from his memory.
I often wondered what his future might look like.
Most commonly, when Carter practiced piano or guitar — which had a place of honor on one of my armchairs as of late since Carter split his time evenly between his place and mine — I gazed out the window and imagined the incredible life that awaited him.
Would I have a role to play in it? Selfishly, I wanted to.
I wanted to witness his rise to fame. I wanted to be the person he came home to and popped a bottle of champagne with.
I wanted to wait for him backstage and be the first to kiss him after a performance.
Silly old romantic, a voice whispered from the back of my head. But that was the thing about Carter. He made me feel much younger than I was. And when I felt my years, they didn’t weigh so heavy. Lately, I sometimes thought of myself as only thirty-eight.
My thoughts jumped ahead. I could see him doing anything under the sun. Scoring movies, performing in front of crowds, joining a band, or going at it solo. I could imagine him succeeding at anything so long as his fingers were near an instrument and the passion for the art burned bright in him.
I had once floated the idea of helping him out.
It had been an admittedly stupid idea, but I had thought to help him get ahead of the line.
Carter had simply shaken his head. “No way I’d let you do that.
If I can’t make it happen, I don’t want it.
” I never mentioned it again because my feelings for him doubled in that instant, and I understood exactly what he wanted.
There were better ways to support him than to offer my contacts or my money, which he adamantly refused as well.
Carter was doing gigs in restaurants and bars a few times a week, which was enough to cover his rent but not much else.
He feared Dana would discover the regular expense and put the pieces together, so he avoided spending more than he had while living in the Titans’ team house.
The only kind of support he needed was the emotional one. He loved practicing in front of me, so I made sure to listen. And I loved listening to his music nearly as much as I loved being kissed by him.
I often found a way to watch his performances as days got cold and short. And I often found bits of time to run away somewhere new with him. Those were the best days.
Elsewhere in my life, the Titans had felt the sting of a loss and were determined never to let that happen again.
They couldn’t win every game, but they never lost due to the lack of trying.
Coaching them became another kind of pleasure.
It kept me busy, and, truth be told, seeing the boys win was far more gratifying than I had expected.
“Do you like this?” Carter asked from behind the piano.
I swirled the whiskey in my glass and smiled. “Do you need to ask?”
Carter grinned, then waggled his eyebrows at me. “What are you thinking about?”
“Everything,” I said softly. Rain began pattering against the huge windows. The drops caught the city lights, twinkling and blurring the world.
“Everything?” Carter repeated, mock impressed.
I nodded slowly. “I’m thinking about how different my life is from what I expected.”
“Or what you were used to,” Carter offered.
“That, too.” I took a lick of my whiskey and set the glass on the small round table near the corner of the room.
Carter got up and crossed the space between us. He put a hand on my face and looked up at me. “You stopped bitching about those four gray hairs on the back of your head.”
I narrowed my eyes at him as if to thank him for reminding me. “Bitching?” I asked, incredulous.
“And moaning,” Carter said decisively.
He was being smug with me, but he knew what that earned him. In the two months of being with me, he had studied this lesson well. In this one thing, Carter seemed to deliberately be a slow learner. So I had to teach him again.
He didn’t see it coming, judging by the yelp that burst from his mouth when I bent and swept him off his feet.
Tossing him over my left shoulder like a sack of beans, I didn’t mind his flailing or pleading for mercy.
I smacked his peachy ass with my right hand, my left arm wrapped around his legs, and turned to carry him into the bedroom.
“You’ve got a mouth on you, kid,” I said.
The slap on the back of my head was well deserved. He hated it when I called him that, even if I was only teasing, which made it that much more interesting. As I neared the wide arch between the living room and the kitchen, my doorbell rang.
We froze instantly, and I carefully dropped Carter to his feet. “That’s got to be Beckett.”
Carter agreed. “Someday, he’ll have to learn I’m in the running to be his new uncle.”
“Don’t I know it?” I mused as I walked over to the front door. Before I could look at the feed from the downstairs camera, Carter’s sharp inhale stopped me in my tracks.
“Shit, Nate. Shit,” he hissed.
“What is it?” My heart dropped. Something bad, judging by his tone.
“I’ve got seventeen missed calls from Dad,” Carter said, his voice thin and almost childish with anxiety. It made me want to wrap my arms around him and let him know I would make everything alright.
The doorbell rang again, and I hurried to let my nephew in.
Carter would have to slip into the bedroom, and we would deal with this once I found a way to send Beckett away.
Why on Earth would he be here unannounced?
Unless something bad had happened to him, too.
My own anxiety flared to life, but then I stumbled as I saw the screen by the door.
“He’s here,” I whispered. “Carter, Dana’s downstairs.” My old friend had a hard, cold expression on his face, distorted by the angle of the camera.
“What?” Carter gasped. “My dad?”
Carter was growing more pale by the second.
I crossed the room and grabbed his forearm, pulling him close to my body and wrapping one arm protectively around him.
“It’ll be fine,” I said as he looked up into my eyes.
I bent down to kiss him softly and gently and savored it like a drop of water when I was lost in a desert.
After kissing him, I stepped back. “Go to the bedroom, Carter. Don’t come out. ”
My heart was hammering, but I wouldn’t show that to him.
Right now, I needed to be the strong one, the calm one, so that Carter could be as brave as he had to be.
Dana was here, which couldn’t mean anything good.
Even the fact that he was in the city was a bad omen, let alone standing outside my door.
Carter blinked once, slowly, and nodded. His gaze was on me as he retreated around the kitchen and dining area, through the door, and into the bedroom. He shut the door quietly as if any sound might give him away.
Why would Dana seek me out in the city unannounced?
I didn’t know. I didn’t want to think about it.
The first thought that crossed my mind was the most terrible one.
But as he impatiently shifted the weight from one leg to the next, I knew I had to let him in.
I could pretend I wasn’t home, but that could only make things worse if he were onto something.
“Dana?” I spoke in a surprised tone after pressing the speakerphone button. “What the hell are you doing here, man?”
“Nate, buddy, sorry to come so suddenly, but I need your help,” Dana said, his gaze searching and finding the camera. “Would you let me in?”
“Come right up,” I said, wondering if something in my tone had already betrayed me. I’d had a lifetime of practice in the art of lying. I had lied to everyone I had ever met. Hell, I’d lied to myself more often than anyone, but those lies had only been about me alone. This was about Carter, now.
My heart lurched, and I snatched Carter’s warm jacket from the coatrack and rushed into the bedroom. “Take this and stay here,” I reminded him, making my voice as composed and calm as I could. “It’s gonna be fine.”
Carter’s expression was all but cool. He bit his lip, his face growing pale and eyes white with fear. “Promise?”
“I promise,” I said. “I’ll make everything right.” I pulled the door shut as I stepped back, regretting not stealing one more kiss before having to face my old friend. My lover’s father.
I walked over to the front door and balled my fists. Tingles crashed against each other in my arms as I forced myself to stand still. Every part of me wanted to pace with worry, but I wouldn’t give in to that.
When the elevator dinged, I unlocked and opened my door. Dana’s footsteps rushed up the hallway in a businesslike manner and with urgency. When he reached my door, he seemed relieved. “I’m so glad I found you here,” he said.
To that, I had no idea what to say. “Come in.”
Dana entered my apartment and glanced around, thrusting his hand out.
It was an awkward shake, considering how long it had been since we’d last spoken to each other.
Things weren’t exactly sour between us, but some words had been exchanged that made all our future interactions a little more challenging.
He’d always felt like I had overstepped, but I had felt like I hadn’t done enough.