Fall Apart (5 page)

“Good Lord, Alarik!” Mandy stared at him breathlessly. “Let a girl finish, would you?”

“You know that’s never been one of my talents,” he answered weakly, hoping to make her laugh.

Mandy’s hands reached up to gently cradle his face. “I didn’t mean you should find a broom closet and take his mind off of things. I meant he has a lot of rough stuff going on in his life. His sister’s going through an ugly divorce with a little kid caught in the middle. His mom is looking after his dad, babysitting her grandson, and trying to work a few hours at the store. Damon’s picking up slack all over the place. This weekend is the first time he’s had a minute to himself in too long. He needs something to be
happy
about, something that’s just for him.”

“He dates, though,” Alarik cut in. “I overheard that idiot, Andrew, at the bar.”

Mandy scowled darkly, her lips tightening as she spoke. “Andrew is trash and any time he’s around Damon, he makes Damon feel like trash, too. If I could’ve gotten away with keeping him off the guest list I would have. I don’t know a lot about who Damon’s been with aside from Andrew, but I know there was a guy a few years ago, a serious relationship. They were seeing each other in secret; I don’t even know his name. Damon came out and the other guy didn’t. It got too hard for both of them.”

Mandy watched him for a few moments, her eyes dancing over his features, trying to decipher them.

“Have I said too much? Is this making you feel like there’d only be drama?”

Alarik pictured Damon as he’d witnessed him so far today. Laughing with his friends, supporting them, enjoying himself, and blushing when Alarik spoke to him. Mandy’s words weren’t scaring him off, they were making him restless—and maybe it wasn’t her words doing so, but his own thoughts of Damon. He was attracted. He was that kid at a party, sneaking looks at the new boy across the room.

Mandy was waiting for his answer, hope and uneasiness blending in her gaze. He pulled her into a hug as the song ended. “You look beautiful and very happy, Mandy. Go dance with your husband.”

Alarik turned her and gave her a little nudge in Luke’s direction. She tried to spin back and say something else, but he didn’t let her.

“Go. Enjoy this. It’s your night.”

***

Damon was dancing with the flower girl and ring bearer, if you could call it dancing. Mostly he was keeping a grip on their hands while they twisted and wriggled. It was like moving to music while attached to a couple of bumbling puppies. Every now and then, the kids would join hands and the three of them became an unending circle of bad rhythm. Franco was off to the side, on the edge of the dance floor, talking to one of The Law Turds and cheering the kids on when it seemed like they needed it. His nicotine patch finally seemed to be working.

Damon heard his name called and looked up to see Sandra charging towards them with an almost violent smile. His eyes shot to Franco and he said, “Did you take off your patch?”

“What? No—” Then he noticed Sandra bearing down and laughed. “Oh, this isn’t about me. This is about
you
.”

Sandra joined their circle, grabbing hold of the children’s’ hands so she was standing directly across from Damon. She began stepping and dancing as the kids laughed excitedly. Damon was trying to determine if her look meant trouble for him.

“Guess what I heard at the bar before dinner?”

Damon had stopped wiggling to the satisfaction of the kids, so they yanked on his arms until he remembered himself and twitched a bit more. “What’d you hear?”

“That ass—oh!—sorry kids. That
guy
you saw a couple times, you know the one I mean?”

Damon nodded as his face flamed. Franco noticed and took the lawyer he was talking to away from the dance floor and out of earshot. A lot of folks knew Andrew and his reputation; Franco, as always, was protecting a buddy so no one associated Damon with that rep.

“What about him?”

“Well,” Sandra’s eyes gleamed as she continued, “my guess is that he was saying something about you that the photographer didn’t like and Andrew got it thrown back in his face!”

For a second Damon pictured the wedding photographer, a guy in his fifties that he’d never met before today, when the image of Alarik came to mind.
Ohhhh.
His face grew twice as warm.

“Do you mean Alarik? Mandy’s friend from New York?”

“I mean that British Crown Jewel that’s dancing with Mandy right
now
.” She jerked her head to the right in a not-so-subtle cue.

Damon shuffled the kids and Sandra counter-clockwise like they were dancing an abysmally executed version of the
Kalamatianos
, just so he could get a better look at Mandy. Sure enough, Alarik was holding her close and based on their faces they were discussing the deep trials of life.

“Alarik spoke to Andrew? What happened?”

“I only caught the last bit, but he said that Andrew is a
bastard
—oh!—sorry kids,” she apologized into their wide, upturned eyes. “He said he was
that word
and told him that he wouldn’t allow Andrew anywhere near you. Then, he
dismissed
him
.
He shooed him away. Andrew looked like he was going to explode.” Sandra finished with a triumphant fist pump that made the flower girl lose her balance and nearly fall. “Sorry, sweetie. You’re okay.”

The ring bearer and flower girl’s parents came to the rescue, and the kids went willingly, maybe even with relief. Damon pulled Sandra into his arms and she continued like there hadn’t been a pause.

“It was the coolest thing I’ve seen in a long time. What’d you say his name was? Alarik?” She took a breath. “Well, he was calm like it’s a hobby to stand around bars and call guys bastards, but you could tell he was serious. Whatever he overheard Andrew saying must’ve really bothered him.”

Damon moved again so he could see Alarik over Sandra’s shoulder. Andrew specialized in pissing people off, so that was no surprise, but that it mattered to a guy like Alarik was a shock. What had Mandy told him?

When Damon remained quiet and lost in thought, Sandra shook him. “Well? What do you think?”

“I don’t know. I—”

“
Damon
, you need to talk to him.”

“What? Why?”

“Because he’s interested!”

“Nah. No.” He snuck another glance. “Nuh-uh.”

“You’re scared and you have no reason to be. He was sticking up for you. He was
protecting
you. He said he wouldn’t allow Andrew near you and you think that means he’s not intrigued by you?”

Damon met her eyes again, wanting to come across unconcerned, disinterested. His world was hampered by so many emotional earthquakes and aftershocks that adding romance seemed like asking for trouble. Throw the harsh reality of a user like Andrew into the mix, or the gut-wrenching turmoil years ago when his love hadn’t been enough for another man to make a life with him, well, trusting in attraction was a messy proposition.

“It doesn’t seem like it’s a good time to start something.”

Sandra made an exasperated face. “That’s a terrible excuse for hiding. Remember when I met Franco?”

Damon nodded, giving her hand a comforting squeeze.

“I’d lost my job, my parents divorced and moved… That didn’t seem like a good time, either, but then Franco walked down the same grocery aisle I was walking down and the rest is history. We don’t get to choose how things happen, but we can choose to
face them
when they do.” Damon had looked away again and Sandra grabbed his jaw in a no-nonsense grip. “You say Luke is brave, but you are, too. You could still be living a secret life but you chose to come out, not knowing what the reaction would be. Maybe it’s time for a relationship, maybe it’s not, but you need to be open.”

Damon blinked a couple times as Sandra’s words soaked in. “You’re so blunt and tough about everything,” he finally answered, his lips turning up.

“I’m not as tough as people think. Ask Franco. Inside, I’m a kitten.”

“Well, at least when it comes to the claws… Thanks for being on my side.”

Sandra kissed his cheek. “It’s ‘cause I love you. Always have.” She took a look at Mandy and Alarik as the song ended and gave Damon a shake. “Talk to him.”

Sandra left to hunt down Franco while Damon considered his options. As Alarik hugged Mandy and sent her away, Damon took a step towards him, froze, and took a step back. He did this a couple times before he changed direction entirely and crossed the ballroom to the cake table. He had to figure out a way to sneak a piece for Davey that didn’t involve napkins and his jacket pocket.

“You must be very upset. I don’t think you’ve ever managed to ignore me so long.”

Damon stiffened but refused to turn around. A secret little laugh sounded at his shoulder and he continued to stare at the plates of cake set out on the table. That laugh was once quite sexy to him… Not anymore.

“Look at you! It’s like nothing I say will get a rise out of you.” Andrew sounded amused, as if he knew it was only a matter of seconds before the silent treatment ended. “You’re so committed to avoiding me this time. It’s cute.”

God, he knew how to strike a nerve. The impulse was strong to spin around and tell Andrew exactly why he was so intent on ignoring every word that came from his mouth, but that was the trap. The second he engaged, it was over. Andrew knew that and he would exploit it.

Damon tried the selectively deaf trick he learned from Davey when the kiddo didn’t want to do as he was told. Vanilla cake or chocolate cake, he asked himself, his body tense with concentration. Never had a dessert decision held such importance.

Andrew moved around the table until he was across from Damon, and then ducked his head until he was in Damon’s line of sight.

Vanilla cake. For sure.

“Damon. Don’t you think you’re being juvenile here? Ignoring me when I just want to see how you’ve been? I thought we had an understanding.”

Damon flushed with anger and the embarrassment that had pulsated in his chest since their last encounter months ago. He wouldn’t say a fucking word.

‘
An understanding’
? What a prick!

A sudden presence at his side made Damon go still and he glanced up to find Alarik staring thoughtfully at the offerings laid upon the table. His brow was furrowed in deep contemplation and when he met Damon’s eyes, he sighed.

“Which do you prefer? I like the vanilla with the raspberry swirl.” Alarik’s voice was soft and supple, the way he said “raspberry swirl” actually causing a pleasant flutter beneath Damon’s skin. After a moment Alarik did a casual double take like he’d only just noticed Andrew standing nearby.

“Saint Andrew,” he said in surprise. “I didn’t notice you there, although you’re not very tall are you?”

Andrew mumbled a “fuck you” and moved to leave as Damon bit down on his lips, unexpectedly fighting a smile. Alarik wasn’t finished and Damon watched with rapt attention as the handsome Brit cut through Andrew’s bullshit, something Damon had never been successful trying.

“Don’t run off on our account. You obviously came over here looking for a
piece
.” His eyebrow lifted. “Which would you like? Vanilla or chocolate?” When Andrew didn’t respond Alarik nodded. “Here. I think you’ll like the chocolate. Damon,” he lifted a plate of the chocolate cake and handed it over, “pass this to Andrew, he’s made a bad habit of overreaching.”

Damon couldn’t help the quick breath of laughter that escaped, but he did as he was told, holding out the piece of chocolate cake and meeting Andrew’s eyes because there was no longer any power behind them. Andrew sneered, but before he could say whatever nasty words he had planned, Alarik’s voice snapped out with cool clarity.

“I don’t like being rude, yet I’m willing to make an exception for you. Bugger off.”

Andrew promptly went red again before silently striding away. Alarik carefully took the plate Damon was still holding and set it down.

“I suppose he wanted the vanilla.”

Alarik was thrilled, inordinately pleased with himself actually. Success on all counts—Establishing and Protecting Territory in Three Easy Steps. He would write a book all about it someday. Oh, he loved what smug satisfaction did for his confidence.

And he equally enjoyed what the flush on Damon’s face did for his libido. His quiet companion wouldn’t hold eye contact for longer than a few breaths, but when he was looking up, Alarik was able to pick out the pleasure over Andrew’s dismissal.

Damon cleared his throat and fidgeted with the plates in front of him before he finally lifted his head once more. The skepticism or borderline antagonism he’d seen earlier on the terrace was absent.

“Did Mandy put you up to this?”

Well, perhaps the skepticism hadn’t disappeared entirely. Alarik pretended to consider the question, taking an obvious look over his shoulder to where Mandy was dancing with her father in the center of the ballroom.

“Why do you ask?”

Damon followed Alarik’s gaze, his expression weighted. “It seems like something she might ask you to do. Look after her sad, gay friend and keep the wolves away…”

Alarik snatched up a plate of the vanilla cake and a fork, smiling innocently. “I thought
I
was her sad, gay friend.”

“You don’t seem like the sad type.”

“Nor do you. Serious, certainly, but sad? No.”

Damon was quiet as he grabbed a plate and fork for himself. “I’m relieved, if you want to know the truth,” he admitted. He used his plate to gesture toward a nearby table abandoned by its occupants and Alarik followed, leaving the chair between them open as he took a seat.

“Relieved?” he asked, no small thrill arcing through him at Damon’s willingness to be monopolized by conversation.

“Andrew,” Damon answered, his lips barely moving. “It’s a long story.”

Alarik tried to take what he could from Damon’s body language. He saw the embarrassment, he saw the relief, but he didn’t see disappointment that Alarik was the one sitting across from him.

“Everyone has a long story in the past. I’m sure Andrew’s tale deserved that particular ending. He’s a short, little git, isn’t he?”