Chapter 33
33
Colt Bishop
R olling over in bed, I peel my eyes open, the morning light peeking in through the crack in the curtain. I grab my phone off the nightstand and check the time. It’s just after eight. It’s been four days since the blowup with my dad on New Year’s Eve. The next morning, I called my mom, and she suggested giving my dad a little more space, as he was still pretty pissed. But I’m ready to hash this shit out already.
I roll out of bed, going to the bathroom to take a quick leak before padding down the stairs. The savory, slightly sweet scent of bacon fills my nostrils, making my stomach grumble as I walk down the hall, finding William standing shirtless with a pair of flannel pajamas slung low on his hips with his feet bare in his kitchen in front of the stove.
“Morning,” I rasp, dragging a hand through my sleepy, mussed up hair.
Glancing over his shoulder, a smile curves his beautiful, full lips. “Good morning. How’d you sleep?”
“Great. Your bed is comfier than mine. I think I need to buy a new mattress.”
William chuckles. “There’s coffee.” He nods toward the pot in the corner. “And breakfast is almost done.”
Walking up behind him, I wrap my arms around his large form, cheek pressed against the warmth of his back. Covering my hands with one of his own, he squeezes while he continues flipping the bacon or stirring the eggs or whatever it is he’s doing that I can’t see. Since New Year’s, we’ve spent every night together. We’ve both been busy—him with work, me with training—but it’s like neither of us wants to sleep without the other. We spent a couple of nights at my place before coming here. There’s something so enjoyable about starting my day eating breakfast with William and Roger.
“Want any help?” I murmur, not wanting to let him go.
“Nah, I got it.” His chest rumbles with his deep voice. “My dad and Winnie are outside on the back porch if you want to go out there. I’ll bring everything out on a tray when it’s done.”
“Okay.”
Turning around, he leans down, pressing his lips to mine for a quick kiss. “I’ll never get over how good you look in my house in the morning.”
My cheeks heat as I turn and leave the kitchen, padding through the house toward the back door. It’s a chilly but nice morning. The sun is shining bright, the grass frosted over from how cold it got overnight. Roger’s sitting in one of the recliners out there, wrapped in a huge robe and fuzzy socks, a portable heater blasting in his direction.
Eyes lifting from the phone in his hand, most likely reading the news, he smiles when he spots me. “Good morning, Colt.”
“Morning.” Wrapping a blanket around my shoulders, I take a seat in the chair next to him, Winnie jumping in my lap right away. I’ve really come to care for Roger. I’ve always liked him; he was my doctor for most of my life, but since getting to know him a bit more personally, he’s a really cool guy.
“You guys going over to your folks’ today?” he asks, gaze flitting over to me.
“Yeah, after breakfast, I think we’re going over there.” Nerves line my stomach. “We’ll see how it goes.”
“He’ll come around, son.”
“What if he doesn’t?” It’s a question that leaves me feeling vulnerable. If I’m being honest with myself, it’s a genuine concern of mine. What if my dad doesn’t come around? I care deeply for William—hell, I think I’m in love with him—and nothing will make me walk away from him, but it would sting to know my dad wouldn’t approve.
My whole life, I’ve looked up to my father. Wanted to be just like him. Make him proud. I know he’s proud of me and the life I’ve fought for, but I need him to accept my feelings for William. I can’t imagine not getting to share that part of me with one of the most important people in my life. My dad is my hero, my original role model. Even as a grown adult, I crave his acceptance and pride. I think anybody would.
“Colt, I’ve known your dad his entire life. “He can be stubborn and a whole lot hotheaded, but you’re his son. He loves you more than life itself. He may be mad, probably a little blindsided, but he’ll come around. That much I know.”
Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I think about what he said. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course, you can.”
“You seem to be okay with me and your son,” I say. “I could be wrong, but you haven’t even seemed to bat an eye since you found out. Why not? ”
Roger smiles, the wrinkles around his eyes creasing. Bringing his coffee mug up to his mouth, he takes a sip while he seems to ponder my question. “I’ve spent many years wishing my son would find his person,” he murmurs, setting the mug back on the coaster on the table between us. “He spent many, many years alone all the way in Seattle, and I just knew there was someone out there for him. Someone to bring him joy, make him feel young again. That person, son, is you.”
My throat tightens, chest squeezing. “How did you know that, though?”
He chuckles. “I saw it from the very moment I met you. The way Will looked at you. The way you challenged him and got under his skin. I saw the fire you ignited in his soul. You sparked something in him that I haven’t seen in years from my son. How could I possibly be anything but ecstatic about that?” He arches a brow before adding, “It probably helps that you’re not my lifelong friend. Give your dad a little grace. I’m sure it’s a lot to take in, given the relationship he and Will have shared their whole life.”
Not long after, William comes out, a tray of delicious smelling goodies in hand, and we all dish up. William’s the better cook between the two of us, but I’m more than okay with that. After we finish eating, I help him tidy the kitchen before we run upstairs to get dirty in the shower before cleaning each other up. Getting ready side by side, I can tell we’re both feeling nervous about what’s to come today. The mood is a little sullen, and we’re both quiet, but I feel better that we’re going into this together. A united front as we try to make my father understand.
“Ready?” he asks as I’m finishing buckling my belt.
“Yeah, let’s go. ”
Stopping me with a hand around my waist before we can walk out of the bedroom, William looks me in my eye and says, “Whatever happens today with your dad, it doesn’t change anything for me.”
I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that. It’s like a weight is lifted off my shoulders, and I can breathe easier. “It doesn’t change anything for me either.”
There’s a moment when we just hold eye contact, not a single word spoken between us, yet so much is said. Loud and clear. Then I lean forward, pressing my lips to his, and allow myself this one kiss before we go face my dad, and hope for the best.
We take William’s car, and on the way over, I send my mom a text, letting her know we’re on our way. By the time we’re pulling into the driveway, my stomach is in knots. How does this feel more nerve-wracking than I’ve ever felt sitting in the bucking chute, getting ready to ride a literal bull? William turns off the car, and we both glance at each other, a moment for reassurance, before we get out.
Rounding the front of the car, William takes my hand in his as we make our way up the walkway. Right about now, I’m ready to turn back around and head home. I have no clue how this is going to go. At the New Year’s party, when my dad had William’s shirt fisted in his hand, he looked like he was ten seconds from decking him. Bringing his hand up, William knocks on the door.
“Fuck, I’m nervous,” I breathe out with a laugh.
Chuckling softly, William says, “Me too. It’ll be fine.”
The door opens, my mom appearing before us. She looks from William to me, a hesitant smile on her face. “Hi, Will. Hi, honey. Come on in. ”
Giving us both a hug, she closes the door behind us.
“Where’s Dad?”
“Getting dressed,” she murmurs as she walks past us toward the chair. “He just got out of the shower.”
“Does he know we’re coming?”
Wincing, my mom shakes her head. “No.”
“Lovely.” I huff out a laugh.
The floorboards creak as my dad bounds down the stairs, three sets of eyes darting in that direction. As soon as he reaches the bottom step, he turns, looking from William to me, then to my mom, his jaw clenching. “I guess we’re doing this today?” he drawls.
“Honey, they came over to talk to us,” my mom says softly, like the absolute saint that she is. “Can you please come sit down?”
Heaving a sigh, he takes a seat in the other recliner, his brows set in a hard line to match his jaw.
Glancing at William, I nod, letting him know I want to start. “Mom, Dad,” I murmur, nerves tight in my throat. “I’m sorry—we’re sorry—that you found out about us the way that you did. We had every intention of telling you, but we wanted time to explore what this was first, and then it didn’t feel right to drop the bomb on you around the holidays, so we decided to wait. And well, that blew up in our faces.”
My mom’s quiet while my dad huffs, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “I had my suspicions,” he mutters, not looking at anyone in particular. “The way you two behaved around each other whenever you were here. On Christmas, for example. But I brushed it off because I thought, surely, there’d be no way my best friend would be sleeping with my son.” He laughs dryly. “I mean, who would do that?”
William winces beside me .
“Then when I saw you”—he glances at William, gaze hard—“walk away from the fire at Conrad’s right before midnight, followed by Colt, I knew my gut had been right all along.”
“It’s not what you think,” William says.
“Yeah? Then tell what it is then, because I’m having a real fucking hard time wrapping my head around how you could do something like this, Will. You’ve been my friend since we were kids. You held my son when he was born, goddamnit! What the hell am I supposed to think, huh?”
Sitting forward, William rests his elbows on his knees, gaze pointed directly at my dad. “I understand you’re mad,” he goes on. “You have every right to be. We should’ve told you sooner, and that’s on us. And I get this is unconventional and probably even a little uncomfortable for you—both of you.” He glances toward my mom for a moment before looking back at my dad. “But I think I speak for both of us when I say that we didn’t mean for this to happen. I don’t think either of us expected us to wind up here, for this to have gone as far as it has. But it did, and Max, I’m in love with your son, and I won’t apologize about that.”
My heart stutters, my body freezing. Time stands still as I take in what William just admitted. There was zero hesitation in his tone. I can’t wrap my head around it, my mind spinning. He… loves me.
“Wait,” I cut him off from whatever he was saying. All eyes flit to me, but it’s the deep ocean eyes beside me that I’m looking at. “You do?”
His gaze softens as the smallest of smiles lifts his lips. “I thought it was obvious,” he murmurs with a light laugh, his cheeks turning pink.
“You never said anything. ”
I’m overly aware of the fact that both of my parents are watching us right now, but I can’t find it in me to pay either of them any mind. Not when it feels like I’m floating.
William loves me.
Taking my hand, eyes never leaving mine, William says, “I love you, Colt. I’ve fallen so unexpectantly hard for you, and I can’t imagine my life without you. You’re stubborn, sometimes a little too cocky for your own good.” We both laugh, the backs of my eyes stinging. “You drive me crazy most days, but I can’t imagine living without your type of crazy.”
“I…” Swallowing around the lump in my throat, I squeeze his hand. “I love you too, Doc.”
William leans in, pressing his lips to mine, seemingly unbothered by our audience. The kiss doesn’t last long before my father clears his throat. “Alright, that’s enough.”
“Max!” my mom scolds, emotion thick in her voice. Glancing over at her, her eyes are red rimmed, and her cheeks are wet.
“No, Trish,” he growls. “I’m not going to sit here and pretend like I’m okay with this. This has been going on for God knows how long under our noses. Why did nobody think to tell me? Don’t you think, as your friend, I deserved to know?”
“Maybe because it wasn’t about you, Dad,” I bark. William sighs beside me, and I know I should probably shut my mouth but, fuck, I can’t. “Yes, of course, we wanted you to know, but we wanted the time and privacy to figure out what exactly this was before telling people. And have you ever considered that maybe we were nervous to tell you because we knew you’d act exactly like you are now? Not everything is about you. Neither of us started this with the intent of hurting you or making you mad. Like William said, we didn’t expect any of this, but it happened. I love you, Dad, and I understand where you’re coming from, I really do, but I’m an adult. I’m more than capable of thinking for myself, and I know this is weird for you, and for that, I am sorry, but I can’t help how I feel no more than you can help how you feel about mom.”
My dad’s nostrils flare with harsh breaths, but he says nothing. So, I continue.
“I’m not going to get into details, but William and I ran into each other one night two years ago when I was visiting Seattle. It was unplanned, but there was an instant connection. I didn’t think anything would come of it, and it didn’t for two years, but when he moved back to Copper Lake, it became abundantly clear the connection from that night was still there. None of this was done to hurt you.”
“You’re his doctor,” my father grits out, gaze shifting to William. “Never mind the fact that you’ve known Colt his entire life, you’re his physician.”
“No, I’m not,” William replies. “I transferred him to Doug after that first visit after his accident.”
A heavy silence falls upon us, and when I glance over at my mom again, her eyes are still red, but she smiles at me.
Finally, after a few tense moments, my dad sits forward, heaving a sigh. “I don’t know what to do here, but I need some time. This is… a lot. I can’t do this right now. I’m sorry.”
Standing up, he leaves the room, taking the stairs two at a time without another word. Nobody speaks for a moment. If I had to guess, I’d say we’re all kind of at a loss for words. On the one hand, it could’ve gone worse. At least he didn’t punch William. But on the other hand, it would’ve been nice to work through this today.
“Give him time, you two,” my mom says, her kind eyes looking into mine and then William’s. “He’ll come around.”
That’s exactly what Roger said, but will he?
“Thanks, Trish,” William says, voice strong yet quiet.
Feeling defeated, I stand up. “I guess we’ll get out of here.”
“Honey, you don’t have to go.”
“I know, but it’s probably for the best. I’ll call you?” I don’t know why I phrase it like a question, but she nods anyway.
With that, William and I leave my parents’ house, and all I can do is keep repeating the same two sentences over and over.
It could’ve been worse. He’ll come around.
Maybe if I say it enough, I’ll believe it.