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“I’m home,” he called, and they pulled themselves apart, rising to greet him.
Zander glanced at his watch. “That was a short session.”
“Um, yeah.” Scotty bit his lip. “There was an unexpected hiccup.”
Immediately Zander’s gaze sharpened. “What kind of hiccup?”
He might as well spill it. “Syren Rua showed up.”
Next to Scotty, Vince stiffened. “What?”
“What the fuck?” Zander headed for the door and Scotty grabbed his arm.
“Listen. Listen.” He quickly went over what happened before Zander ran off to start a war that wasn’t really necessary. “Aside from the initial shock of seeing him there, he didn’t hurt me. He just wanted to make sure I was okay,” he told them. “He wanted to check that you two were treating me well.” He didn’t feel the need to share what Syren had disclosed about his childhood.
Zander’s frown didn’t go away, but Vince seemed to soften. “He was worried about you?” he asked Scotty, tone incredulous. “All this was because he was worried about you?”
Scotty scratched his head. “I guess so?”
“God.” Vince scoffed. “Can’t that guy do anything the normal way?”
But then he wouldn’t be Syren Rua, would he? Scotty touched Zander’s chest, pressing a kiss to the other man’s jaw. Trying to soothe him and calm him down because he knew how Zander got when he was worked up. “I believe that he was just looking out for me in his own way. He didn’t hurt me or threaten me. He wanted me to know that if I ever needed help I could reach out to him.”
Zander scowled. “Why the fuck would you need his help?”
“He wouldn’t, so let’s stop discussing it,” Vince interjected. “Scotty is fine and we’ll make sure he stays that way. Now”—he motioned between Zander and Scotty—“you’re gonna help me with this barbecue, right?”
Zander nodded, albeit grudgingly.
“Yeah,” Scotty answered.
“Okay then. Come on.”
They cooked together, and it was the loudest, messiest, most fun Scotty had ever had. And by the time they made their way upstairs to their bedroom, everything else had been forgotten.
Everything but the love they shared.
