Trey’s rubbing of his lower lip turned into a pinch. “So she’s here in Boston.”
“I guess so. Her kids wouldn’t be calling if she’d gone home. I couldn’t force her to leave the city. I talked to Evan. He doesn’t think we have grounds for a court order.”
“You thought her showing up was important enough to consult a lawyer, but not to inform me?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t like seeing you upset about this.”
“Fuck.” Trey got up to pace, both hands shoveling through his dark hair. He really wasn’t himself when it came to his aunt, which tended to knock Zane equally off kilter.
“Look,” he said, hoping Trey wouldn’t jump down his throat for what he was about to say. “It’s totally your call, and you know I’ll back your play, but are you sure avoiding her is the best solution?”
“There’s no point seeing her!” Trey exclaimed. “The only thing that will satisfy her is denying my father was abused. I can’t give her that—even if she’s just a crazy old lady who’s afraid of her own guilt. The truth is the truth. My father paid for it. I paid for it. And maybe she could have done something to stop the abuse. She was eight years older than my dad. I wasn’t there. I don’t know what the f**k happened in that house.”
Zane came around the desk to sit on its other corner. He touched Trey’s arm lightly. “You don’t really blame her.”
“I don’t know whether I do or not. Kids don’t always speak up, even when they could. You and I both know that.”
“We do know that,” Zane agreed, keeping his hand where it was. Trey was the least judgmental person he knew. Zane didn’t want to see that change.
“Fine.” Trey looked away and scowled at the wall. “I made your point for you. But even if I went along with her, even if I said, ‘Yes, this lie you’re telling yourself is true. Your father didn’t abuse mine, and my dad never claimed differently to me,’ do you think once would be enough? On some level, my aunt knows what happened. She’d need me to keep shoring up the lie. I’d never be done with it. Fuck,” he finished and covered his face.
Zane moved his hand to Trey’s shoulder, which was trembling. “Trey,” he said. “Sweetheart.”
Trey choked out a sound that let Zane know he was crying.
Zane immediately pulled him against him. “Sh,” he said against Trey’s hair. Trey clung to him as he rubbed his back. “I’d offer to beat up your aunt, if it weren’t for that little old lady thing.”
Trey laughed raggedly, forehead rolling against Zane’s shoulder. “God, I love you.”
Zane held him tighter and closed his eyes. When he opened them, heartbeats later, Rebecca was in the open door.
~
Rebecca shouldn’t have stood there listening as long as she did. Now that she’d been discovered, the polite thing would be to excuse herself. If a person walked in on a grown man crying, and his best friend was comforting him, it wasn’t right to intrude on that. She especially shouldn’t intrude considering the tenderness with which Zane was holding him. This was third wheel territory, without question.
The only person who might claim differently was Trey.
She looked at Zane. His eyes weren’t telling her to come or go. He’d stiffened, probably with embarrassment. Then again, despite her catching him being less than macho, he wasn’t letting Trey go. The caution in his expression suggested he was waiting to see what she’d do. Was she having a fling with them—which meant she ought to stay out of this—or did she actually, maybe accept Trey’s idea that they were destined to be together? Was she willing to be serious about them both?
Decide, she thought.
Not sure she had, but unable to do nothing, she walked in without speaking and put her hand on Trey’s back.
Startled, he turned and wiped his face. “Shit. Sorry.”
She shook her head. “You’re not doing anything you need to be sorry for.”
“You heard?”
“Yes.” She dried a streak he’d missed on his cheek. “Sometimes you can’t lie even to be nice. It would be too big a self betrayal.”
Trey’s wet eyes were the green of grass. “I just want her to go away.”
“Who wouldn’t?” she said, understanding he thought this was wrong of him. She glanced at Zane. The men were sitting side by side now, with Zane’s arm braced on the desk behind Trey’s back. “So, um, maybe it’s not my business, but have you talked to the kids? Are they reasonable people? Could they help control their mom?”
“I don’t know.” This time Trey wiped his face wearily. “They’re strangers to me. I hadn’t met my dad’s relatives before he killed himself.”
“He killed himself?” She blurted out the question. Fortunately, Trey didn’t flinch.
“Yeah,” he said. “My mom did too when I was younger. My dad did it the same way, in a running car in the locked garage. Neither of them were happy people.”
Rebecca was at a loss for words. She considered how kind Trey was, how deeply he embraced life and love. What a waste that his parents didn’t have the capacity to appreciate that. But he must fear their sadness was in him. No one could come from that background and not wonder. She stroked his cheek, the skin beneath his stubble hot from his emotions.
“You know how to be happy,” was all she could think to say.
He smiled, moisture glittering in his eyes again. He took her hand to kiss its palm. His lips were warm and soft.
“I can talk to your aunt’s kids,” Zane said.
Trey’s head jerked to him. “That’s not your responsibility.”
A muscle bunched in Zane’s jaw. “It’s good sense. You send the coolest head into a negotiation.”
“It’s not a negotiation.”
“Maybe it is. We don’t know what their deal is. Either way, I’m the best person for the job.”
“Zane—”
Zane crossed his arms. “I’m not negotiating with you.”
“We’ll talk about it later,” Trey said.
Rebecca rolled her lips together to hide a smile. Given Zane’s stubbornness, she doubted that discussion would occur.
“I have good news,” she said, deciding the subject was ready to be changed. “The Lounge got a great review from Gordon Hewitt.”