“I’m sorry,” Kieran says. “All this drama. We were just supposed to be grocery shopping.”
“With you, it’s never just grocery shopping,” I whisper. “I’d go anywhere with you. And I’d do anything for you.” If only he’d let me. I take a big breath, and then I do the difficult thing and step back from this man I love, so that he can maintain the facade that we’re just buddies.
He’s too emotional right now to protect himself. So I will do that for him.
“Besides,” I say, giving his shoulders a quick squeeze before I step back to my spot against the wall. “The Shipleys are never boring.”
He gives me a crooked, grateful smile. Then he reaches his hand out and grabs mine. All five fingers this time. “Roddy, I don’t want to be alone.”
“None of us do. And you aren’t, you know.” I’ve seen the Shipley wolf pack in action. I’d bet cash money that a month from now they’re watching sportsball together just like always.
“No,” he argues. “I mean that I need you. If you move out, it will kill me. I want us to be together.”
“Honey.” My heart thumps in my chest. “I am a hundred percent available for this discussion. But we need to get through this outrageous day before you make any more life-changing pronouncements.” If Kieran ever decides to tell his family about us, I want him to do it with a clear head, so he doesn’t regret it later. And nobody should come out to his family while his father lies bleeding on an operating table. “One family crisis at a time, please.”
“You don’t believe me.”
“I do,” I say calmly. “But you shouldn’t march into that waiting room in front of your terrified extended family and yell, ‘Guess what, Shipley clan! This ass is so gay!’”
Kieran gives me a sideways glance. “If that’s what you needed, I’d do it,” he says in that serious voice of his. “I’d even toss around some glitter around if you dared me.”
I turn to look into his gorgeous eyes, and we stare at each other for half a second before bursting out in loud, inappropriate laughter—the kind that happens when you’re having a top-ten stressful day, and the tension just needs somewhere to go. Kieran’s face creases into hilarity, and I actually see tears in his eyes as he leans against the brick wall and laughs.
And I’m just as bad. Every time I think I can stop giggling, I picture Kieran tossing a handful of glitter and...
Yup. Laughing again.
We keep it up until the hospital doors slide open, expelling an elderly couple who give us a stare. Only then can we dial it back. Kieran squeezes my hand as we catch our breath.
I hold his tightly, too. I drop it as the doors slide open again to reveal a very pissed-off Kyle Shipley, with Griffin bringing up the rear. They’re both wearing Red Cross stickers on their flannel shirts.
“There you are,” Kyle says, breathless. “What the hell just happened?”
“Easy,” Griffin says, a hand on Kyle’s shoulder. “Maybe Kieran doesn’t want to talk about it.”
“Yeah? Well, not talking about it doesn’t work so well, does it? We play this weird game of telephone at our house. Our father prefers me and our mother loves Kieran best and everyone is tense and weird from dawn till dusk. And my whole life nobody would ever say why. And you—” He pokes a finger into his brother’s chest. “You always assume I can’t tell. Like I’m deaf and blind.”
Kieran looks uneasy. “Well, you have the privilege of pretending everything is fine.”
“The privilege,” Kyle scoffs. “Like I can’t tell when Dad is angry and Mom is stressed. I act the way I act because someone has to be the rodeo clown. Would you step up and run that shit show if you were always kept in the dark like me?”
Kieran puts his hands on top of his head and sighs. “No. I guess I wouldn’t.”
“I notice plenty, okay? Like you’re in love with your roommate, for example.”
“What?” Kieran blinks.
Griffin smiles. And I clamp a hand over my mouth.
“You heard me,” Kyle bellows. “I see things. I know things. Not that anyone ever bothers to bring me up to speed. What happened back there, anyway? I mean, I was there when you were born. How the hell are you not—” Kyle catches himself before he finishes the sentence. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know what to say to you right now.”
“I do,” Griff says quietly. With one of his lumberjack arms, he steers Kyle away from his brother. Then he grabs Kieran into a tight hug. “Love you, brother. Whatever bullshit happened before you were born wouldn’t change that.”
Kieran gulps audibly, and my eyes feel hot all of a sudden. “Love. You. Too,” Kieran grunts, although this display of verbal emotion almost kills him.
“Okay. Okay,” Kyle says from the sidelines. “As usual, Griff is better at this than any of us. And here I am yelling at you.” He sighs. “I’m sorry.”
Griffin steps back, then whacks Kyle on the shoulder. “It’s a hard day. Take a breath. And maybe it isn’t Kieran’s job to explain your parents’ past.”
“Good point,” I say, even though nobody asked me.
The hospital doors open up again, and Grandpa Shipley appears. “He’s out of surgery!” the old man yells. “And stable!”
All three Shipley cousins sag with relief. “Finally,” Kyle says, and then gallops toward the doors.
Griffin squints at Kieran. “You going to be okay?”
“Yeah,” he says hoarsely. “But I do not want to go back in there right now.”
“Your dad won’t be awake, or seeing people for a while,” Griffin says. “Take a breather.” He gives Kieran’s shoulder one more squeeze, claps me on the back, and walks away.
Grandpa walks slowly toward where we’re standing on the sidewalk. He stops in front of us, tears in his eyes. “I thought I’d lost him. A man shouldn’t bury both of his sons. That’s not how it’s supposed to work.”
“You’re right, Grandpa,” Kieran says.
“My sons aren’t perfect people,” he goes on to say. “Did you know your father was a difficult, angry teenager? Never listened to a thing I said.”
Kieran’s eyes widen. “No?”
Grandpa shakes his head. “I love every stubborn hair on his head, though. And yours, too. I always will. Blood type doesn’t mean shit, boy. You know what does?”
Speechless, Kieran shakes his head.
“Who shows up at the hospital when you cut yourself up in a dumbass farming accident. That’s what matters.” At that, the man turns away and limps toward the doors again.
Kieran
Roderick takes over after we get the news that my dad’s out of surgery.
First, he figures out that the hospital will allow two people at once to see Dad in the ICU. Mom and Grandpa have that honor.
“So I’m taking you home,” he says. “It’s cold out here, and you’re shivering.”
I hadn’t noticed. But I let him steer me to the truck, where I get into the passenger seat and let him drive me home.