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“Rex! What the fuck.” I kicked his leg. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Jesus Christ, Parrish!” he grumbled, sitting up.
“What are you doing here?” I asked again, trying to keep a lid on my anger so I didn’t lose it on him, not that he didn’t deserve it.
“Got in a fight with Bec on Friday. She’s being a bitch. Dad was pissing me off too, so I stayed here.” He scratched his balls, and I rolled my eyes. “Where have you been all weekend?”
I’ve been with Riven, and I know what you did warred with my guilt for being with Riven while Becca was taking care of the kids all weekend alone. Usually, she would have called me in a situation like that. I didn’t know why she hadn’t.
“Get out of my house. You do this again, and I’m calling the cops on you.” It wasn’t like they would do shit, not really. He was my family, and he hadn’t stolen anything that I knew of. The police would chalk it up to an argument between us and tell Rex not to do it again.
“You weren’t here, so why does it matter?” He looked at me, eyes questioning. “Who were you with?”
“Why does it matter who I was with?”
“You got yourself a boyfriend now? I always thought you were gonna switch teams so you could try and take my family away from me.”
I rolled my eyes. He was an idiot. “It doesn’t work that way, and excuse me for being there for Becca and the girls. Maybe you should try and do it once in a while.”
He stood and pushed me. “Fuck you, Parrish.”
I shoved him right back. “Fuck you too. Get the hell out of my house.”
He grabbed his jeans and pulled them on. “You’re such a bitch. And you haven’t talked to Dad. What’s going on with Riven?”
My panicked gaze snapped to his, looking for signs that he knew what was going on with us, knew I’d spent the weekend with Riven. I didn’t really care, except I didn’t want it to put Riv on their radar even more, and I didn’t want to hurt Becca. But he was just being a dick and didn’t seem to know more. I guessed he meant at work.
“Nothing is going on with him. He comes to work every day, we work on the house, then go our separate ways. Why am I supposed to be keeping an eye on him? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Keep your mouth shut, and do as you’re told.” He tugged on his shirt next.
“What did you do to Riven? Why can’t you leave him alone?”
Rex’s reply was a belch. He grabbed his weed from the coffee table and shoved it into his pocket before going for his shoes.
Knowing I couldn’t get him to say anything else about Riven, I figured I could at least try to get him to spend time with his family. “Go home to Becca. Make her and the kids breakfast. Spend time with them or some shit.”
“No.” He walked out.
With a sigh, I went to change clothes, and then headed over to see Becca and the girls.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Riven
“Parrish stayed the night again?” Grandma asked. I was outside smoking when she walked up. I’d expected this conversation but still hadn’t known how I would answer. Now that it was here, my reply wasn’t any more clear to me.
“Yep. Is that a problem?” was what I landed on, though I knew it wasn’t. Jesus, I was such a dick sometimes. The thing was, I didn’t know how not to be. Or hell, maybe I didn’t want to because that felt like one step closer to letting people in and either failing them the way I’d done Grandma or having them stab me in the back the way Rex had done me.
“You know it’s not, Riven, so don’t pretend you think otherwise. You could have told me you’re gay.”
I took another drag of my smoke, then put it out. “I’m not.” I didn’t look up at her.
“You could have told me you like men. Is that new, or…”
“It’s not new,” I admitted, then stood. It was hot, so I held my hand out for her, supporting her while she stepped onto the concrete, then leading her inside. “It didn’t happen in prison if that’s what you’re wondering. I just didn’t share it with people who didn’t need to know before.”
“The people who needed to know being the men you hooked up with?”
“Jesus, Grandma. Aren’t you too old to say hooked up?” There was nothing like talking about sex with his grandma to make a grown-ass man feel like an embarrassed teenager.
“Well, that’s what you do, isn’t it? You and Parrish are serious?”
“Christ, no.” I tugged my cap off and ran a hand through my hair. “Do we really have to talk about this?” I was thirty-one years old, after all.
