Page 138 of Nothing Special X: The Last Stand

Syn watched them go, then turned back to Fox. “Damn. Domesticated looks good on you, Bro.”

Fondness moved across his face as he watched the doorway where Bull had disappeared.

“Yeah,” he said. “Feels pretty damn good, too.”

Syn took another drink. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Me either.”

Fox leaned forward, elbows on his knees, beer bottle hanging loosely between both hands.

“It wasn’t always easy,” he said.

Syn looked at him.

Fox kept his eyes on the pasture.

“Me and Bull did our damage. Said things. Did things.” His lips lifted without much humor. “I kicked that stubborn jackass out of our bed more than he’ll ever admit, and I don’t mean for one night. Sometimes a week. One time it was so long that Amelia stepped in and begged for him.”

Syn had a weird image of Bull sleeping in one of the horse stalls.

“But I always let him back in,” Fox said. “Not because what he did no longer hurt or pissed me off...”

Syn looked down.

“I let him back in because at some point I had to decide what was worth protecting – my pride, or what we’d built. There were times when I needed space so I didn’t say something I couldn’t take back, and times I needed him to sit in the hurt he caused.”

Syn’s throat worked.

“But space can turn into a weapon if you hold it too long,” Fox said.

Syn didn’t speak. He couldn’t trust what might come out.

Fox turned the beer bottle slowly between his hands. “I’m not gonna tell you to forgive Furi. That ain’t my relationship, ain’t my bed, or my wound.”

Syn glanced at him.

Fox met his eyes. “He hurt you. You’re allowed to be hurt.”

The words landed with more force than Syn expected. His brother wasn’t lecturing him or pushing him. Just someone finally acknowledging his feelings were warranted and mattered.

Fox’s voice eased but stayed confident. “Furi made a bad choice with the best intentions. Then he followed you to Ro’s and stood there with his heart in his hands while you gave him your back. I’m not judging it. But don’t mistake your hurt as proof that you shouldn’t forgive him…or that you don’t still love him.”

The sun slid lower, and the pasture turned a breathtaking bronze around the edges.

“Well, that’s all I got.” Fox stood, stretching his back. “Come on. I’m starving. Amelia makes the best pot roast you’ll ever eat, and Dale is a selfish bastard. He’ll be on thirds before you even lift your fork to your mouth, so we better not be late.”

Dinner at Fox and Bull’s table was the best time he’d had since his team had broken up.

Syn hadn’t expected that.

He’d expected food, small talk, maybe Bull’s family being careful of how they acted around company, pretending not to know why he was there.

Instead, the dining room turned into absolute mayhem with borderline offensive manners and award-winning gravy.

Fox and Bull sat at opposite heads of the long table. Amelia was in the seat nearest the kitchen, Bull’s father sat beside her, Dale and Rid took one side, and Syn sat across from them where he could see the whole loud mess.

A mostly devoured platter of pot roast sat in the center of the table, surrounded by bowls of mashed potatoes, roasted carrots, asparagus—that made Syn almost laugh out loud when he saw them—and hot rolls.