Chapter Thirty- Eight #2
"Long time no see, amigo.” I pat Gavin’s shoulders as I make my own rounds with Elias’ guests.
The manager of The Pink Flamingo holds out a hand with a smile. “Graham, nice to see you again. Great speech, man. Real rib tickler.”
“Muchas gracias.” I take the empty seat next to him, reaching across him to shake his husband’s hand. “And Nathan, always a pleasure.”
Naomi’s brother smirks, shaking my hand. “Graham Rosales. Gotta admit, I never thought I’d see your face again.” He looks past me to the dance floor where Naomi is dancing with her dad. I have yet to find the courage to approach the senator even for a hello. “I hope my sister is treating you well.”
I laugh, glancing back at her. She laughs at something her dad says, leaning into him for the slow song.
They have a great relationship, even if maybe his expectations are set a little too high.
He’s the parent who stuck around after all.
It didn’t stop Naomi from carrying her mother’s abandonment straight into alcoholism and a need to meet every single bar her father set.
But clearly- from the smile on his face and the clarity in her eyes- that’s something they’ve both moved past. Because I know even from a single interaction with him that all Senator Mychal wants for his children is for them to be happy.
I mean, his son owns a sex club, and I have never once heard either of them mention him complaining about it.
I mean, he does run on a platform of acceptance and love, but he’s one of the few politicians who actually practices what he preaches.
Especially when it comes to his children.
“She’s treating me just fine,” I tell Nathan, returning my attention to him and Gavin. “For a change.”
Her brother laughs, shaking his head. “Thank God, I thought she was never going to get over her bullshit. Now she’s calling me at fucking one in the morning, crying her damn eyes out.
” He nudges Gavin who averts his gaze immediately when he sees my confusion.
“Hopefully that phase will be over soon too, yeah?”
My brows knit and Gavin hisses a warning to his husband under his breath, “Nathan, shut up—”
“What are you talking about?” I immediately ask.
Nathan’s smile drops, realizing he’s put his foot all the way into his mouth. “Oh fuck,” he shakes his head. “Forget I said anything, man—”
“She called you crying? When? What happened—”
With a heavy sigh, “This morning,” he admits and my eyes widen because that’s around the same time I left her to go stay with the guys in Rowan’s cabin. “But it was nothing man. We sorted it out, she’s gonna be fine—”
“Why did she call? What did she say?”
Fuck what did I do? What did I confess that had her calling her brother in tears at one in the morning? I gave her a whole impassioned speech about how much I fucking love her and she called her brother in tears?!
Or had Nelly gotten hold of her? Asked her a million questions that finally broke her down enough that Nathan was the one she reached out to?
Or maybe she had a craving and called him first. He has been her entire support system through her recovery after all—
“Dude, I can literally see smoke coming out of your ears.” Gavin squeezes my shoulder. “I swear, she’s fine. Nathan just has no fucking tact.” He glares at his husband as the other man bows his head in shame.
Still, the anxiety lingers. “Then why did she call? Why was she crying? Did she say anything?”
Gavin gives Nathan a look and the other man licks his lips.
“That she loves you, for one.” Okay, not news.
Still feels good to hear. “And that she didn’t quite know what to do with that yet.
” When my brow pinches he sighs, “Fuck, she’s gonna kill me.
Look, she was freaking out because she doesn’t want to go back to Boston and do whatever happened two years ago all over again. ”
“That will never happen again.” I swallow the lump in my throat that memory forms, the only one of us who knows that what happened two years ago was entirely my fault. “She should know that—”
“Should is very different from won’t.” Nathan shrugs. “And she doesn’t want to fuck up whatever you two have managed to fix.”
She doesn’t want to fuck it up? I drag both hands through my hair with a groan. “Cono… She could never fuck it up,” I mutter. I pat Gavin on the shoulder on more time. “I need to talk to her—”
“Graham, wait—”
“I’m not promising you shit, man,” I tell Nathan, but I give him one more handshake as a familiar rhythm fills the hall. “I need to go tango with your sister.”
Nathan makes a face. “I hope that’s not an innuendo.”
I shrug. “Maybe later?” Gavin snorts as Nathan tries to punch me in the side, which I easily avoid. “Later, assholes.”
Naomi is just stepping away from her father when I make it over to them. I take a breath, steel my nerves, and hold out a hand to Senator Mychal. “Sir,” I smile as charmingly as I can. “Nice to see you again.”
Next to him Naomi bites her lip as her father’s eyes narrow, trying to figure out how he knows me, clearly recalling that it is not a pleasant memory.
“Daddy,” Naomi nudges him into taking my hand.
“You remember Graham. He and I were… Seeing each other,” she softens the blow of our former interactions. “Four years ago.”
“Oh,” the memory comes to him with a sudden narrowing of his clear blue eyes, lines deepening in his lightly tanned skin. “Yes, I remember now. You’re the man twice my daughter’s age who confessed his undying love to her.”
His hand tightens slightly around mine until I wince. “A very apt description, Sir.”
“Hmm,” Senator Mychal hums, looking me over in what remains of my suit- no jacket, tie loose around my neck- trying to decide if he likes what he sees when it isn’t in just a jersey and sneakers. “Four years ago,” he repeats. “And yet I saw you up there with her as if no time has passed at all.”
Because for me time has basically stood still, I think, but how the fuck do I convey that to Naomi’s fucking father? I glance at her, blue eyes wide and encouraging because she knows just how much this interaction has stressed me out the last two days.
So, I straighten my spine, meet the senator’s eyes again and I tell him the complete truth, “I love your daughter, Mr. Mychal.” My gaze flits briefly to Naomi, my smile softening.
“I have loved her without fail for four years. Even when she didn’t want me.
Even when she pushed me away. Even when she refused my help, I loved her anyway. I am in love with her.
“I know I come from no money or status, I’m just a bartender who has a habit of getting into trouble more often than I should.
And I know that my age is likely one of many reasons you won’t approve of me, but I think being here- at this wedding- should be enough to show you that sixteen years, when it comes to love, really doesn’t make a difference.
Poppy is Elias’ other half. Clara is Rowan’s… And Naomi is mine.”
I give the senator a moment to process my words before tacking on, “And if it makes you feel any better, taking advantage of a woman like your daughter is absolutely impossible. She’s really fucking mean.”
Naomi snorts, which draws her father’s gaze down to her. His brown eyes narrow, but his lips quirk up ever so slightly in the corner. “You’re mean to him?”
She chuckles. “I’m vicious.”
“Good,” he nods, then more quietly. “You love him?”
Naomi smiles at her father, wrapping her arms around one of his. “I do,” she looks up at him. “I love him, Daddy. Very much.”
“Hmm,” he hums again, then turns back to me.
“Then who am I to stand between you. However,” he yanks me in suddenly with a strength I did not expect from a politician, his voice dropping several octaves.
“If you ever hurt my daughter, her definition of mean will be nothing compared to what I do to you. Understood, Mr. Rosales?”
The way he says my last name makes me think maybe he did a background check into me when I showed up in his driveway four years ago.
That maybe he knows a little more about my past than I’ve ever really been willing to admit to anyone besides my friends and Naomi.
But I don’t let that anxiety show when I nod, smile and swear on my life that Naomi will always be safe with me.
“You have my word.”
He releases my hand, looking down at his daughter. “He knows?” She nods. “He’s got you?” Again, she nods. “Okay.” He kisses the top of her head, handing her over to me for my turn on the dance floor. “Take care of her.”
“Always,” I promise, smiling as I take her hand, spinning her into my arms. “Para siempre y por siempre, mi reina.”