KINCAID
Max: No offense but you need to get laid, man. Take advantage of that bitch of a layover in Amsterdam. I’ll see you in two days.
_____________________
When the system popped up a reminder to revisit Timber again since I’d forgotten to inspect the decorations the last time, I groaned.
“Problem, Chief?” McMasters called out from down the hall.
I opened my mouth to ask him to take this inspection visit, but then I remembered just how happy Alex had seemed lately.
I resented the hell out of him for acting like he was suddenly over our…
whatever it was… and I also still resented him calling me out while I was just doing my job at the bonfire.
So. Fuck him. He was getting the full heat of my focus for his inspection visit, and he could fuck right off if he didn’t like it.
Part of me knew I would unleash another shitstorm when I showed up, so I put it off until the last possible moment. I waited until I was done for the day and headed out. Instead of pulling up in front of Timber, I passed it and went to Frank’s instead for a beer.
Sujo and his girlfriend Tiffany were there, but they seemed to be in an argument about their Christmas holiday plans with various family commitments, so I stayed well away from them, tucking into my own little corner and pulling out my phone to answer a recent text from Max I hadn’t responded to yet.
I’d finally told him about Alex, but only because I hadn’t wanted him to hear about it from Kaidee or to ask her to keep it a secret. He was pissed. How dare that fucker not give you a chance. You? You’re a catch. Fuck him.
It was his role as my best friend to be protective, but I still hated hearing him speak spitefully about someone I truly cared for.
Max
You still haven’t told me if you’ll come for Christmas. Say yes, bro. Make it happen.
I stared at the text.
Think I’m gonna stay here.
Max
You staying for the kid?
Max had thought the thirteen-year age difference between Alex and me was a problem, but I’d told him the truth: I honestly never thought about our ages anymore when Alex and I were together.
Lay off, brother. I know you’re in my corner and I love you for it. But Alex isn’t a kid. And I don’t blame him for feeling hurt and confused.
And scared, I didn’t add.
I remembered Alex confessing to me months ago that he was afraid he might fall for someone and have things ripped away again. And I was pretty sure that, in Alex’s mind, that’s exactly what had happened.
I just didn’t know how to get through to him. How to make him realize this second chance was a freaking gift, and the only thing keeping us apart was him.
When Frank yelled out of his little kitchen window to ask if I needed another beer, I realized I’d been sitting there too long.
“No, thanks. I’m heading out.”
It was time for one last stop before heading home… where the only things waiting for me were a frozen Italian dish and the second half of an old mystery novel I was rereading.
Timber’s front door opened with enough force to rattle the windows. I walked in annoyed as fuck that we were back in a situation that required goddamned inspections every two seconds after the six-month shitshow we’d finally gotten through.
But here we were.
Alex looked just as pleased about it as I was.
“Oh, for the love of fucking Christ,” he murmured.
Maddox Sullivan and Adrian the influencer guy were there filming—probably another one of their holidates—and Maddox made a snarky comment under his breath.
“By complicated, you mean Kincaid’s about to make my night a living hell with another ridiculous inspection to make sure Timber’s living up to his impossible standards,” Alex said, not bothering to lower his voice as I approached the bar.
I made my way toward him, taking my time and nodding to a few people along the way.
“Evening, Firebug,” I called, also not bothering to lower my voice. “Hope you’re not burning anything down, with all of these poor innocent townsfolk trying to enjoy the holiday season.”
Alex cut me a look and inhaled sharply through his nose. The pain of seeing him stole my breath. He was so fucking beautiful and so fucking far away, though he was right in front of me.
“You know what? I actually expected you tonight, Kincaid. It’s been a whole week since your last inspection,” Alex shot back. “Figured you were due for another power trip.”
If these stupid inspections were all we had right now, I was going to make the most of them. Get under his skin, the way he was still—and I was pretty sure would always be—under mine.
I reached the bar and pulled out my flashlight to inspect the paper Santa hats hanging precariously close to the string of holiday lights. “These lights properly secured? Electrical cords in good condition? You know what happens when bars get careless with their wiring.”
“The lights are fine. The cords are fine. Everything is fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “It was one time, Kincaid. And nothing fucking happened.”
I tilted my head at him and pretended to be confused. “I’m sorry, you didn’t just suggest lighting something on fire thanks to your carelessness was ‘nothing,’ did you?”
Alex closed his eyes. His jaw ticked. He took a breath before opening his eyes and plastering on a fake smile. “What can I do for you, Chief Kincaid? Would you like a holiday cocktail? It’s on me. I’d love to help you celebrate the season with a sedative.”
I wanted to provoke him, make a potshot comment about how he tended to light cocktails on fire, but I decided instead to stop antagonizing him. I was tired. One final tease, and I’d go. “Thanks for your kind offer, but I have to decline. I have a hot date tonight with my—”
“Great, have fun,” he snapped, cheeks crimson and eyes wide. “Good night.”
I stood there as Alex moved away to mix cocktails. His movements were forced and deliberate, as if he was having to pay extra attention to make sure he didn’t fuck up the process.
“My book and a frozen pizza,” I finished softly, but I wasn’t sure he heard me.
I waited for a response, but none came.
On my way home, I considered texting Max back to tell him I’d changed my mind, that I would fly to Philly for the holiday weekend. But I was too depressed to even pull out my phone.
I didn’t look at my phone again until hours later, when it buzzed with a text from an unknown number telling me they’d deposited their cousin in my yard and “good luck with that.”
I threw on warm clothes and stomped into my boots before racing out the front door, where a very drunk Alex Marian was reciting poetry in my snowy front yard.
“O ruthless stars that grant me sight.” He stopped to hiccup. “To see the man I dream each night. He glares, he stomps, he will not stay—And still my heart won’t look away. If love be a wound, then let it burn—For every scar’s a lesson learned!
His arms were open, and he spun.
“Goddammit!” I shouted, thankful my neighbors were too far away to hear. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I held a flame I could not keep, A blaze that burned my nights of sleep,” he continued, burping a little and weaving on his feet. “That’s Rumi, you know.”
“I can’t keep doing this, Alex,” I cried, throwing out my arms in frustration.
“I love you, and it’s killing me. You can’t be with me because it took you too long to get over me?
The grief was too much? You want to know who mourned, Alex?
Me! I mourned! Except I kept looking for you for over three years! ”
He blinked at me and squinted through the freezing night air. “You love me?”
Before I could answer him, he wobbled a little and then face-planted right into the snow.
By the time I got to him, he was snoring peacefully, as if none of this had happened. As if I hadn’t poured my heart out to him. And yeah, that fucking hurt.
Instead of taking him inside, I shoved him in the back seat of my truck and drove him back to Timber, where I forced Tavo to help me get him into bed, prop him on his side with pillows and extra blankets, and leave an empty trash can nearby in case he woke up puking.
And then I went home and pulled out my laptop to search for last-minute plane fares to Pennsylvania for Christmas.