More, Sloan Parker [guided reading books TXT] 📗

alone. When Doug asked me if I wanted to bring someone, I told him the truth about you guys, and he was a jackass. Pissed me off. He's been my friend for a long time.” He paused. “It isn't fair to ask, but— ”

I interrupted with, “The kid should go.”

Matthew sat taller. “Me?”

I picked up the stack of plates and carried them to the sink. I rinsed the top dish until every ounce of food and possibly some of the dish's color had washed away, then swung the dishwasher open and stuffed the plate inside. This living together thing, being exclusive with them, was breaking all my rules. No way was I going to a party as a boyfriend, partner, or whatever the fuck Richard would tell everyone.

I turned around in time to see Matthew shake his head.

“What?” Richard asked.

“It wouldn't be right for me to go. I mean... you two look like you make sense together. You and me... ” He shook his head again.

“Why the hell would you say that?”

“Have you seen you? I'm not old enough, not sophisticated, not... people would buy the two of you together, but... ” He picked at the edge of a thumbnail. “Not me and you.”

I crossed the room and dropped into the chair next to him. “Matthew, that's bullshit.”

“He's right,” Richard said. “And even if people think you're too young for me or whatever, do you think I give a shit? Don't you know what I see in you?”

Matthew stared at the opposite wall. “I have no idea.”

Richard seized his face in his hands. “You are energetic, determined, caring, considerate, sexy— ”

“Addictive, beautiful,” I added.

“That's right,” Richard said.

Matthew stared at him for another shocked moment before he looked my way. “You mean all that?”

“I do.”

“We do,” Richard said.

“No one's ever treated me with respect the way you do.”

I hauled Matthew onto my lap, unable to keep away. “You deserve it.” I peppered him with kisses, over his cheeks, his jawline, the corners of each eye, showering him with affection. My subconscious told me the gestures were absurd, but I ignored it.

Richard slid into the chair next to us. “You'll come with me?”

Matthew leaned his forehead against Richard's. “Yeah, I will.”

Delight spread through me. Not because I didn't have to go to the party with Richard, but because we'd shown Matthew he mattered. Shown him he was worth something to us.

The rest of the evening progressed with laughs and excited bounces from Matthew as we watched Close Encounters of the Third Kind. And by the time Richard Dreyfuss sculpted his mound of mashed potatoes, Matthew had given up sitting by himself. He practically leaped out of his chair, landing on the couch between Richard and me. We ended the night with a slow, leisurely fuck that sent Matthew into a deep sleep.

I smiled as I lay in bed beside him. I'd helped to put him in a good mood.

I liked being someone who could make Matthew feel good about himself and his life.

I liked being someone who mattered.

What I didn't know then was that was the moment I'd gone too far. I'd become important to someone again, which meant I had given my father someone to hurt, someone to take away from me.

Chapter Twenty

On the night Richard and Matthew went to the dinner party, I opted to trade Saturday at the office for Friday night. After I finished most of the analysis for my latest project, I shut my office door and dialed Roger Vance's number.

He seemed quieter than the last time I'd spoken to him, reserved, tired.

I wasn't great at this getting-people-to-talk-to-me business. I figured I'd better get right to it. “I'm starting to put together that DVD and had a question. Thought maybe you could help me make a decision.”

“Shoot.”

“I thought about including some photos of Danny Conner, but I don't know what my dad'll think. I was wondering, how did he act after Conner's death?”

“How? Sad. Shocked. Like the rest of us.” He took a deep breath. “It was a long time ago.”

“Nothing odd then? Just the usual grief stuff?” I winced internally at my choice of words. Sometimes, I had no tact. At some point my curiosity was going to come off as rude and offensive. I wished Matthew were there to help me. He'd know how to go about this. But that would mean I'd have to tell them what I was up to. Which would also mean explaining a lot of things I wasn't ready for. I quickly added, “I don't want to offend my dad in some way.”

“It was a hard time for all of us.” He paused. Was he thinking back, or had I gone too far? “But... there was that thing at Mrs. Conner's house. It was weird and not like John at all.”

I leaned forward and propped an elbow on my desk. “What happened?”

“It was at the wake. Danny's mom and John were in the kitchen alone when I heard John yell at her. She'd just lost her only kid, and he was screaming at her. Odd, you know. He was usually so diplomatic. Phil and I went to see what was going on. John was carrying on about a journal that Danny kept. He wanted it, but Danny's mom said she was keeping it. He screamed at her again, saying that Danny would want him to have it. Then he saw us, and that shut him up. He stood there for another minute, breathing heavy, more pissed than I'd ever seen him. Then he stormed out the back door. Phil followed him out with a pack of smokes in hand. Phil always knew how to handle the emotional shit better than I did so I left them alone.”

“Did you ask Phil what happened? Why my father argued over the journal?”

“Nah. Never came up again. John was subdued after that. Quiet. Shocked. Like we all were. That night we got pretty wasted, but it was a quiet night. Toasts for