Chapter 17 #3
“Oh. No. I’m also calling Steph as soon as I’m on the other side of that door to tell her to go there and stay until I get back. But also, yes. Because you’re here, and there’re people who need me to do stuff. So let me worry about me.”
“And about me?”
“For tonight.” He gave Myles a gentle shove. “Shower. Now.”
“Yes, sir.”
Steven stepped around him and reached for a kiss, backing off the deeper, commanding one he wanted in favour of a lingering one that didn’t hurt Myles’s mouth too much. “Good man,” he whispered.
When Myles closed his eyes and leaned on him a moment, he waited, arms around his waist, braced, but the moment passed quickly, and Myles straightened.
“Thank you.”
“It’s quite literally my pleasure.”
On the other side of the closed guest room door, he made good on his promise to call his sister, who assured him she was already at the house, and everything was fine.
“How did you know?”
“How do you think? You’re my twin.”
“Really?”
“And Jake called.”
A lump formed unexpectedly in Steven’s throat, and he had a hard time clearing it.
“You okay?” Steph’s concern felt light and just the right amount of reassuring over the phone.
“Yeah. You’d have been so proud of him tonight, sis.”
“I’m proud of him all the time.”
“Yeah, I know. But he just—”
“Stepped up?”
“Yeah.”
“Lucy’s good for him that way. Now go do your thing. Take care of your man.”
“He’s not—”
She coughed “bullshit” over the phone, chirruped a quick “See you. Bob’s at the door for a Hobbit marathon, so don’t worry about staying out,” and hung up before he could even say goodbye.
When he got to the kitchen, he was surprised to see Shelly on a tall counter stool next to Ozzy, both of them colouring, and Jet with Kreed at the stove.
Jet spoke first when he entered. “Is he okay?” The concern in his tone warred with the scowl on his face.
“He’s showering.” Steven was careful not to downplay Myles’s distress, but also, to not highlight it, which Myles wouldn’t thank him for. “What are you making?” He peered into the pot Jet had been stirring.
“It’s a sauce. White. You have to keep stirring it or it will stick.”
“Smells good.”
Jet nodded. “Kreed did it. I’m just stirring.”
“Did you finish up next door, then?”
Jet nodded and turned his attention back to the pot.
He spoke into the sauce when he replied.
“That cop dropped off the guy Uncle Myles was helping. He had to shower and stuff. I think he was nervous of so many people, so just Tris stayed over there for now.” He knit his brows together. “He’s practically my age.”
“So your uncle said.” Glancing around the room, Steven finally addressed Kreed. “Anything I can do to help?”
“Can you cut some veg for salad?”
“What’s veg?” he asked and grinned as he took the knife from Kreed.
“He’s a TV dinner guy,” Jet said, and made a face. “Gross.”
“As I told your uncle, I bought the good ones this time.”
“You can stop pointing out he’s my uncle,” Jet said. “I know that. You can call him Myles.”
Steven shrugged. “Fair.”
He spent the next few minutes carefully slicing tomatoes and peppers before Jet came to stand beside him with a salad spinner full of washed lettuce.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Jet said quietly so as not to draw the attention of the whole room. “Is he okay?”
“The scuffle didn’t do him any lasting harm. I think his hip is acting up more than normal, but otherwise, it’s all superficial.”
“But?”
“Do you really need me to tell you he’s struggling?”
“What do I do?”
“You’re doing it. Helping with your sister. Being patient with being here.”
“If he starts drinking…”
From the corner of his eye, Steven noticed Ozzy’s head come up at that, and he raised his voice just enough the big man could hear. “He hasn’t. And with us to support him, he won’t.”
“What are we going to do when we move back to Calgary? Who will support him then?”
“You’re here now. Let’s focus on now, okay?”
Jet nodded. He spun the lettuce probably more vigorously than necessary and said nothing.
Both Myles and his errant rescued teen appeared shortly after that, and Kreed put the sauce he’d made together with pasta and sausage. Everyone helped carry the meal to the pushed-together tables in the dining room.
It felt more like a family meal to Steven than anything had in a very long time, with Kreed and Lucky presiding, and the table filled with Tris, Ozzy, Myles and his family, and Jake, Lucy, and Tiffany, the one guest exception to Kreed and Lucky’s no-guest-service-on-Mondays policy.
Wyatt, the young man Myles had helped, sat on Myles’s other side from Steven, with Jet next to him, and the two boys nattered on about video games, D and D, and music while everyone else remained mostly quiet.
Despite defending his frozen dinners, Steven couldn’t deny Kreed’s cooking far surpassed his regular fare. He didn’t complain when there was also pie for dessert, or argue about the leftovers being packed into plastic tubs for him to take home later.
When it was clear Shelly was beyond done being up, Myles pushed his chair back.
Before he could get up, though, Jet jumped to his feet. “I got her, Uncle Myles.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Better than doing dishes,” Jet said. He glanced at Wyatt, then at Myles. “Can Wyatt come up and watch TV?”
Myles glanced to Kreed, who nodded.
“But you’ll be back at the Cabin for curfew,” Ozzy said.
Wyatt grinned. “I will. Midnight. I know. I’ll be there.”
“And you can help out in the kitchen until Shelly’s tucked into bed.” Ozzy’s tone wasn’t harsh, but it didn’t leave room for argument, either.
“Sure.” He grabbed up his own and Jet’s plates. “Happy to.”
Ozzy narrowed his eyes. “If Kreed and Myles are sure…”
“What are you going to watch?” Lucy asked. “I haven’t stopped long enough to watch a movie in ages.” She, too, rose and gathered napkins, as though she hadn’t possibly just offered the very best solution to Ozzy’s unease at letting the new addition free rein of the Oaks.
“Heart Stopper,” Wyatt said. He glanced around the table, uneasy, his cheeks reddening. “I never had a chance to watch the first season before… Well, I just want to see it. The comic was good.” He smiled at Lucy. “You guys want to watch too?”
“I haven’t seen it. Jake?”
Jake shrugged. “Sure. I like TV.”
Wyatt’s grin was electric, and Ozzy relented. “Just remember. Midnight. There are rules, and being here doesn’t change them.”
“I know. I’ll be home on time.” He stopped abruptly, cheeks even redder. “I mean—”
“Good. Tris?” Ozzy stood up and held out his hand. “Let’s go finish up clearing out his room.”
“Then we’re watching Heart Stopper too,” Tris said as they headed for the kitchen and the back door.
“We’ve seen it, like, three times.”
“Still good,” Tris said.
Whatever Ozzy grumbled back at him faded as the kitchen door swung shut behind them.
“You guys are all being very nice,” Wyatt said to the room in general. “I’m not going to screw this up.”
“We know.” Myles spoke up for the first time since greeting him earlier. He squeezed Wyatt’s shoulder.
“You especially. I’m sorry they hurt you.”
Myles turned Wyatt’s face towards the light over the table.
He was already sporting a black eye as well, and bruises on his left cheek.
“Better me than you. Now.” He yawned as he groped for his own dishes, then pushed his chair under the table, obviously using it to find his balance before he stepped away. “Let’s get this cleared up.”
Jet nudged Wyatt with a shoulder, as he was already carrying a sleepy Shelly. “I’ll come down and get you when she’s asleep. It won’t take long.” They fist-bumped, and Jet turned to Myles as Wyatt followed Ozzy and Tris through the kitchen door. “You sleeping down here?”
“I’ll come up if you need.”
Jet huffed. “Not to be a jerk, but can you do the stairs?”
“If you want me to, I will.”
Hefting Shelly to one hip, Jet huffed. “I’m sure.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t answer your call, Jet. I—”
“Wyatt told me what happened.” He drew his brows in. “I don’t love that you went in fists flying, but I get why you thought you had to.”
“And I’m not blind to the fact I shouldn’t have.”
“So.” Jet grimaced. “Fine. We’re good. For now.” He reached past Steven to one-arm-hug his uncle. “We’ll be okay. Stay down here. We know where you are, and you’ll harsh our vibe anyway.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll what, now?”
“You stay down here, I get the big bed.” He went back to holding Shelly with both arms. “Besides, Wyatt’s not so bad. He doesn’t even care I’m straight.”
Myles snorted.
Shelly whined into Jet’s shoulder.
“Okay, Shells. Bedtime.” He kissed her hair. “Say good night to Uncle My-my.”
“Night, My-my.”
Myles ruffled her hair. “Night, Shell-shell.”
Tiffany also said good night and followed Jet upstairs to her own room.
When Jet came back down shortly after he’d left, they sent the younger adults off to watch their show. The four remaining finished cleaning up. Then Kreed and Lucky said their good nights as well.
“So.” Myles turned to Steven. “Are we watching Heart Stopper too? Or do you have to get back?” He yawned again before Steven could even answer.
“I think that answers the first question,” he teased. “As to the second, no. I don’t have to get back. Sounds like Steph and Bob are pulling an all-night Hobbit marathon.”
“Not a fan?”
“More a fan of you, actually. Mr. Armitage can suck it up.” He snuggled in close, both arms around Myles’s waist. “If that’s okay with you.”
“You staying the night?” Myles sighed. “I hope you’re not expecting gymnastics. I’m not at my most limber at the moment.”
“Nope. Just company.”
“Company, I can do.”
Safely back behind the bedroom door, it was only minutes before Myles was splayed out on the bed in sleep shorts and a ratty tank top.
Steven stripped to his boxer briefs and crawled onto the bed behind him, winding an arm around his waist and planting a kiss on the back of his neck.
“You don’t have to stay and keep me company,” Myles said. Something abraded the words to a rough growl.
“I want to stay. Is that okay?”