“The first who was so young. Have you lost anyone?”
“I’ve seen some pretty bad wrecks in my line of work, some that caused permanent damage, but I haven’t lost anyone. Knock on wood.” He shakes his head and raps his knuckles on my oak coffee table. “I can’t imagine losing a brother.”
“You have siblings?”
“No,” he laughs without any humor. “Dad didn’t stick around long enough.”
Fucking dads. “You don’t know yours?”
“I know him,” Axel says bitterly. “He comes looking for me when he wants something. I try to make it hard for him to find me by staying mobile.”
My heart sinks in my chest. I know that feeling all too well.
“I do the same with my dad,” I say softly, watching the ruby red liquid swirl in my glass before taking another sip.
He tilts his head to the side as if I’ve spoken another language. “You’re the least mobile person I know. It’s only been a few days, but I can already find you anytime I want.”
His words make me flush, whether from embarrassment or acknowledgement I’m not sure. “I mean, I make it hard for him to find me by not using social media, not sharing my phone number, stuff like that. Pretty sure he knows I live in Katah Vista, but if he wants to talk to me, he’d have to make the effort to come here or the restaurant. So far, he hasn’t.”
“Your dad’s a gambler and a drunk too?” The corner of Axel’s lip falls, and I'm stricken with an achy chest, again.
“Successful businessman. We were the perfect family until I was in high school, and Dad traded Mom in for a younger model. One that didn’t come with a son who liked skirts as much as pants.” My mind drifts back to those first few months after he left, when Mom was a basket case, wondering how to support us with no skills or money. I swore I’d never be in that position, which is why I work so hard to make Murphy’s a success. That means putting my personal life on the back burner, but so far it’s been worth it.
“He didn’t accept you?” A flash of anger drifts over Axel’s face.
“Lots of people don’t. They can’t wrap their head around me wearing what I like instead of what they think I should.”
“Judgmental idiots. Although to be fair, most people can’t pull off a skirt as well as you do.” The corner of his lip tugs upward, pullingthe hint of a smile from my own lips. “What made you start wearing them, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Usually, I get defensive about this question, but there isn’t an undercurrent of disapproval in Axel’s tone, so I don’t mind answering. “I lost a bet. Jokes on my friend though. Once I put it on, I realized it was pretty comfortable. Plus, I have nice legs.”
“Yes, you do.” Axel’s gaze drifts to them a brief second before they settle back on my face.
“Anyhow, between me experimenting with fashion, which turned into me realizing I was pan, and my mom aging gracefully, my dad’s fragile ego couldn’t handle that we didn’t resemble the trophy family he always wanted. So, he left.”
“That sounds just as bad as my dad chasing after me for money.”
I mull that over as I chew on my lip. “Worse, I think. At least you never learned to count on your dad. I thought mine hung the moon up until he left. Not that you didn’t suffer, too, though.”
Axel’s finger traces along my shoulder, not in a sexual way but a soothing brush of comfort. Reminding me he’s here—for me. “I get it. Your dad had a lot further to fall than mine did, since mine started at the bottom.”
“Yeah.” I offer a weak smile, relieved he took my comments as a logical observation instead of a competition to see who had the shittier dad.
“Dad’s suck.” His hand leaves my shoulder to run his fingers through my hair, and I welcome the tingle it brings.
“Ours do.”
“Jace’s dad is cool. My cameraman.” He elaborates when I furrow my brow. “And my best friend. His dad acts more like my father than mine ever has.”
“Then you know what a good dad can be like.” I’m actually happy for him. I may hate what my dad did, hate the man himself even, but for a time he was a good man that gave me a good childhood, and I’m glad Axel got to experience something like that with his friend’s father.
“I do, yeah. So, you said everyone is close here? They all knew your friend?”
“It’s hard not to be close in a town this small. That’s part of why I love it, although it makes days like this even harder.” I bite my lip in an effort to hold in the breath that threatens to come out as a sob.I should tell him to go. I hate looking vulnerable.“I’m sorry, you don’t want to hear about this. You don’t have to stay here.”
“I don’t mind.” He brushes a lone tear away from my eye. “Unless you’d rather be alone.”
That’s my default setting, one I’m usually comfortable with, and given my uncharacteristically fragile mood you’d think I wouldn’t want company in case I lose my shit. Yet tonight, the thought of being alone sounds especially lonely, and even though I don’t want him to see this side of me, I want to be by myself even less. I shake my head slightly.
