“Or maybe he’s the reason. Should’ve figured Jace’s dad would raise you queer.”
I don’t react, hoping he’ll take that as evidence Lennon is nothing more than a friend instead of the man I’m falling for.
“What do you want,” I repeat.
“Can’t your old man just want to see you?” He flags down another bartender and points to my beer.
“We both know you don’t come looking for me unless you want something. So, what is it this time?”
He licks his lips and drinks from the bottle that’s put in front of him. “I’ve got this investment opportunity…”
“No.”
“You haven’t even heard it yet.”
“I don’t need to. You’ve been playing this game long enough. I know investment really means bailing you out of whatever hole you’ve dug for yourself.”I fucking knew it.I pick at the label on my bottle to keep the anger from making my hands shake.
“Not true,” he says defiantly. “I’ve got the opportunity to open up a bar.”
“An alcoholic running a bar. Seems legit,” I snort.
He continues like he didn’t hear me. “It’s near the desert—one of those places you kids used to like to ride your bikes. I figured some of your gear would make nice décor.”
“You know what décor means?” I arch a brow in his direction.This does not sound like my old man.
“Shit you put on the walls.” He casts me a smug look down the length of his bottle as he takes a sip.Yep. There he is.
“Okay, so you know how you’re gonna decorate the place, what about running it? Better yet, what about buying it? I know you don’t have the money for that kind of purchase.”
“My investment is the labor to get it ready to open. It’s been vacant a few years, so it needs some work.”
I run a hand over my face. When he’s sober, he’s capable of doing construction, so on the surface labor in exchange for a cut of ownership makes sense. I just can’t believe anyone would trust him to follow through.
“Let me get this straight. All you want from me is some jerseys and stuff to hang on the wall of your bar?”
“Signed of course, otherwise it don’t mean nothin’.”
I’m half tempted to do it just to get him out of here, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years it’s that once you crack the door open, he shoves his way in. I’m only considering it now because he doesn’t want money, though that doesn’t mean he won’t push for some later.
Fuck. I need to buy some time to think about this, although buying time won’t get rid of him completely, and I want him as far from Lennon as possible. I suppose that means giving him what he wants is my best option, although I don’t want to make it look like it’s an easy ask.
“Come back tomorrow,” I tell him. “I don’t have all my gear here, so I’ll have to ask my sponsors to ship me something.” Hopefully he’ll assume I’m not planning to stay since I’m traveling light, and he’ll bail out when I do, if not before.
“See you then.” He tips his head and slams his beer, setting it on the counter with an audible crack as he wipes the back of his wrist across his mouth. He spins and heads for the door.
I steal a glance at Lennon filling a mug behind the bar. He’s got an uncharacteristic crease between his brows, so I cast him a weak grin to signal I’m fine before pulling out my phone.
“Ax, this is a nice surprise,” Ma says when she picks up.
“Hey, Ma. You might not think so when you hear what I have to say.”
“What happened?” I hate that her tone shifts from upbeat to concerned, but at least she knows this is serious.
“He found me.”
“Oh, Ax. How?” Her voice adopts the same soft tone I remember from the days when Dad would rip into me for costing him money.
“It doesn’t matter. The thing is, he didn’t ask for money. He wants signed jerseys from me to hang in a bar he’s supposedly renovating in exchange for ownership. Is that because he knows I’d never give him money, or do you think he’s got something else planned?”
