“You okay?” Guthrie asked after a few terror-fraught moments. “You… you sort of came unglued.”

  Seth took a couple more shaky breaths. “Did they hurt you?” he asked.

  “No, sir, but they were gonna. How about you?” Guthrie pulled off in front of a gas station and took stock. “Oh boy, they got you. Your face is swollen. Your lip is bleeding. How’s your hands?”

  Seth flexed them. They were practically untouched. “Elbows,” he said. “Have to play.”

  Guthrie laughed, the sound hysterical and jarring. “Man, you are something else. But brother, you can play something special. I did not believe that shit you did tonight. I almost cried myself.”

  “It’s all I know how to do,” Seth said apologetically.

  “Yeah, that and fight.”

  Seth shifted uncomfortably. “Think they’re okay?” he asked, not wanting to think about Castor Durant and what he might have done, but unable to think about anything else.

  “Who in the fuck cares!”

  Seth let out a choked laugh. “I… I don’t want to kill anybody,” he said. No. Not again.

  “Those boys? They took you out first because they thought you were the weakest, right? And then it was goddamned two to one. You didn’t kill ’em, but I’m pretty sure they’re gonna be pissing blood for a week.”

  Seth grunted. “Should I… should I go back to the bar?” he asked hesitantly. “They’ll…. Will they press charges?”

  Guthrie shook his head. “Seth, they jumped you!”

  “But I’m black,” Seth said, like maybe Guthrie hadn’t noticed. “And gay.” Which he probably wouldn’t have said if he wasn’t so damned rattled. “And the cops hate me just for… for… being me!”

  Guthrie took a breath. “Sounds like you’ve got experience,” he said after a moment, the truck idling noisily.

  “Some.”

  “That sucks.” Guthrie grimaced, and in the light from the gas station, Seth could see his face was sort of appealing. He had a big nose—Roman, he guessed they called it—but a strong chin to balance it out, and brown eyes, which were as big a shock in his pale face as Seth’s green eyes were in his.

  “Mostly.”

  Guthrie let out a laugh and turned to him, eyes soft. “I guess you let your instrument do the talking,” he said.

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s ’cause you got talent for real. I just took up the drums because they helped me get laid.”

  Seth gaped, and the question pushed at him, because Guthrie was looking at him like he was special, and he knew his face was swelling, and he probably looked like shit.

  “You’re not gonna ask?” Guthrie needled.

  “Girls or boys,” Seth said, mesmerized by his eyes.

  “Both,” Guthrie said with a wink.

  The wink did it. Not the both—because whatever flipped his switch—but the wink.

  It was flirty and playful, and Seth didn’t do flirty or playful.

  Unless he was with Kelly.

  He pulled back a little. “I have a boyfriend,” he admitted. “He….” Oh, Kelly—sending him pictures of his cute boss, thinking Seth wouldn’t understand temptation. “He was going to move in with me next year, but… but his dad died, and he has to take care of his sisters and his niece. I got this gig so I could rent a house somewhere, for him and his family, and they could be somewhere different. Somewhere they didn’t have to see their father in every corner when the whole world was happy. And so I could—” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “—see him. And see my dad.”

  Guthrie was still staring at him, but his eyes were shiny, and he bit his lip, like this hadn’t been a possibility. “You can’t go home?”

  And Seth almost told the lie. Of course he could go home, but this was for Kelly, right?

  “No. I….”

  “Not your first fight,” Guthrie deduced, and Seth waited for the condemnation or disgust.

  “No.” He only wished he knew exactly what he’d done that night. Like tonight, he’d sort of lost it. He would have done anything back then, with Kelly in the hospital and fury shining off him under the low-hanging moon.

  Guthrie nodded and pulled the truck into a parking space and turned it off. “Here, you go into the bathroom and wash up, and I’ll go get us some coffees.” He paused and pulled out a wad of cash from his pocket. “Dad and Butch took a third total, and they told me to give the rest to you.”

  “What about you?” Seth asked.

  Guthrie shoved the cash into his hands. “Merry Christmas, Fiddler. Go wash up.”

  Seth half expected the truck to roar away while he was splashing water on his face and checking the damage.

  Ugh. Extensive. His eye was brick-red again, and his jaw was swollen and his lip split open. Thank God he didn’t have to sing or anything. But his knuckles were unscathed, and he had a righteous wad of cash in his pocket.

  And maybe a new friend.

  Seth left the bathroom and climbed back into the truck, shivering a little. When Guthrie got in and thrust a hot coffee into his hands, he was supremely grateful.

  Guthrie started the truck and took Seth’s direction to the freeway. “So, Fiddler, can I ask you a question?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You, your boyfriend, your dad, your boyfriend’s family. What’s that like?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Being out? Having everyone in your life know.”

  Seth blinked, and it occurred to him that Butch and Jock probably did not know Guthrie “liked both.”

  “We, uh, wanted to hide it. Because, you know….” He gave a brief smile. “Making out. Nobody tried to keep us apart to make out.”

  Guthrie burst out laughing. “That’s… uh… frank.”

  “Everybody knew. Nobody was surprised. I wasn’t going to go away to school so we could be together. Dad said he’d help us be together as best he could. That’s all.”

  Guthrie expelled a slow, even breath. “I… I had a guy I liked a lot. But I couldn’t make myself introduce him to Pop. Pop can be pretty brutal. The guy left.”

  “That sucks,” Seth told him. “Sorry.”

  Another laugh, and Seth realized he could like Guthrie because he was like Kelly—there wasn’t pain that he couldn’t laugh at.

  “Well, keep playing for us, okay?” Another slow, even breath. “You’re like the only person I can talk to who’s not trying to get a piece of ass.”

  “It’s a decent ass,” Seth said, and Guthrie cracked up.

  Seth was proud of himself for that, and settled down to let Guthrie ramble all the way back to Bridgford. When they pulled up, Seth pulled out his phone. “Can I take a picture?”

  “Sure. Why?”

  “So I can show Kelly. He thinks he’s the only one who gets tempted.”

  Guthrie grinned, the expression making his own bruises rakish and devil-may-care. “So I’m a temptation?” he needled.

  “No,” Seth told him. “But you could be.”

  Guthrie laughed again. “You’re all right, Fiddler. But I better get out of here before these blue bloods rip apart my weenie white-trash ass.”

  Seth got out of the truck and waved to him as he drove away.

  I can’t wait to see you in three days. This is Guthrie—we performed together.

  He sent the text and went inside, surprised when his phone buzzed, because Kelly was usually asleep this time of night.

  Doing WHAT?

  Playing music off-campus—why?

  He looks beat up!

  Rough crowd.

  Ha ha. Are you okay?

  Seth shrugged and texted, Yeah, fine. You’ll let me see everybody open their presents in two days, right?

  Yeah, Seth. Your dad is coming too.

  Good. Thanks for taking care of him for me.

  He’s not exactly decrepit.

  Yeah, but he’s lonely. Make sure he doesn’t go to bars. They’re terrible places.

  Understood. He checks in every night—I think so we know he’s not.

  Good. Seth yawned. Why aren’t you asleep?

  Because I was thinking about you and wishing I had a room without a baby in it.

  Oh. Yikes. Yeah, Seth didn’t get any private time with Vince around either.

  Well, a couple of days.

  Matty wants to spend Christmas Day with us.

  Don’t mention the day after, okay? Seth felt cold in his stomach at the thought.

  No shit. We already talked to the girls about it. Even Agnes knows he doesn’t get to come.

  Okay—make sure I’m off the phone when he’s there.

  God, I love you. Just take care for the next couple of days, okay? I don’t want to do anything to jinx it. It’s like I’m shaking I need to see you so bad.

  Yearning. Seth knew the taste of it now, the bitterness of want, the cramping in his stomach that came with unfulfilled need. I promise.

  Me too. I love you. Good night.

  I love you too. Good night.

  “YOU ASSHOLE.”

  Seth didn’t let his death grip around Kelly’s shoulders relax one bit. Kelly wasn’t pushing him away, but he was still pissed.

  “I have no idea what you mean.” Seth stuck his face in the hollow of Kelly’s shoulder and breathed deeply.

  “I almost hung up on you Christmas morning, you realize that, don’t you?”

  Seth had asked for Amara’s help before she left to visit her family, and had spent some of his “Christmas bonus” on makeup to hide the bruising. There was no hiding the swelling in his lip or his nose or his eye, though.

  He’d ignored Kelly’s surprised gasp and powered through Christmas morning, oohing and ahhing over each of the girl’s presents as they held it up for the phone. His dad had outdone himself—with Seth and Amara’s help, actually. Amara knew where to shop on the cheap, mail order, and Seth had money his dad didn’t know about. Between the two of them, they’d sent his dad clothes and school supplies and toys for the girls, and art supplies for Kelly.

  And, on Amara’s prompting, a gift certificate at a day spa for Linda, whom Amara regarded with fear and awe. “My mom had no job and two kids, and every time she drove me to flute lessons, it was like I owed her my life.”

  Seth had been on his own for his dad, and in the end, he’d sent him something… odd. And whimsical. A model kit of his beloved car so his dad would have something to do in the evenings while hanging out with the Cruz family that would give him a reason to come home.

  His dad had looked at it and then looked at the camera and grinned. Like a little kid.

  “I loved these when I was in school,” he said. “I had over a hundred of them before I moved out. They were, like, my best thing.”

  Seth had wanted to dance.

  He’d been about to do the closest thing to that—play Christmas songs for the family—when Matty had pounded on the door.

  Obviously drunk.

  Seth watched the joy in the family dissipate, and his father bent his head and sighed. “We’ll go deal with this, son. Merry Christmas. We love you.”

  Kelly’s expression told him everything as the girls all cried, “We love you! Goodbye! Goodbye!” and he had to hit End Call.

  Later that night, Kelly had written him a long, rambling email about calling the cops on his brother because Seth’s dad had gone outside and offered to take Matty to a meeting, and Matty had swung on him.

  Craig Arnold was no fool. He’d ducked and gone inside and called the police.

  And Matty had been put in a drunk tank and asked to sleep it off.

  And Craig had bailed him out the next morning and taken him back to rehab—on his dime.

  Seth had wanted to cry, and he was pretty sure Kelly did cry, but they weren’t going to talk about that now.

  Now, the Cruz family minivan was on its way to Monterey to get the house ready—and hopefully warm it up in the chill of December—and Kelly had Craig’s Caddy and was there to take Seth to see his family.

  Except first, Kelly had to yell at Seth.

  “You—I asked Mom, you know that? After Matty was all sorted out, I said, ‘What did he look like to you?’ and she said, ‘Like he put makeup on to hide his bruises,’ and I said, ‘Yeah, me too, but no, he’d have told me if something happened!’”

  Seth shrugged. “Was a robbery. Me and Guthrie fought back, that was all.”

  Kelly pulled away and regarded him with flat, unfriendly eyes. “Guthrie.”

  “I showed you his picture. He’s the drummer in the band.” Seth couldn’t stop smiling at him. Kelly was so beautiful. His hair had grown—long enough to put up on the back of his head with an elastic—and his chin had squared up. He was still working out, his neck and pecs were looking very grown-up, and he’d shaved, maybe just for Seth because he’d had stubble Christmas morning, when he’d looked delicious and mussed.

  God, he got better every time Seth got to touch him.

  Kelly cocked his head. “And I haven’t heard of this band before now because…?”

  Seth chewed his lip. “We needed money,” he said, matter-of-fact.

  “Seth—”

  Seth turned around and grabbed his bag. He’d been waiting out on the steps of the dorm building in the foggy morning. “We should go,” he said, picking up his violin case and walking determinedly to the Cadillac. “By the way, can I tell you how much my dad must love you to let you drive this car? He won’t even teach me to drive.”

  “Seth—”

  Seth threw his stuff in the back and then got into the passenger seat, looking at Kelly and smiling. “Come on. I know it’s going to be cold and stuff, but tomorrow we’re gonna take the girls to see the aquarium, and it’s gonna get super foggy tonight!”

  “None of that is a reason for us not to talk about this,” Kelly grumbled, slamming the car door. Seth waited until he turned to put the keys in the ignition to ambush him with a kiss, and to his surprise, Kelly melted into his arms like Seth had hoped he would from the beginning.

  It was like being shot through with sunshine, that kiss. And when Kelly took over, pressing him into the car seat, ravaging his bruised mouth, plundering Seth’s chest with greedy hands, Seth actually whined with need and with happiness and with pure rollicking lust.

  The kiss went on and on until Seth was hard and aching under Kelly’s insistent hand, and Kelly’s groin pushed temptingly against his thigh. With a gasp, Kelly pulled away and turned to rest his head on the steering wheel.

  “You make me stupid,” he complained. “God, I want to yell at you for keeping secrets and making money and spoiling us, but I’m just so fucking grateful, and…augh! I just need to kiss you some more!”

  “Yeah. That.” Seth couldn’t catch his breath. “You know, we could go up to my dorm right now and—”

  Kelly turned toward him with a glare. “Oh no. No, no, no. You’ve been working toward us, in a house, by ourselves, with a bed and a view and everything. I’m not going in for a quickie in the dorms when I’ve got… perfection a couple of hours away.”

  “But our family is going to be there for a week!” Seth complained.

  “They’re going to the aquarium tomorrow—you told me yourself. And this is all very clever and all, but I need to hear more about this fight or we’re going nowhere.”

  Seth sighed. “I’ve been playing for a country-western band—they call me the Fiddler—”

  “That’s original.”

  Seth booped him on the upturned wrinkled nose, and his grin back was so infectiously Kelly that Seth felt sunshine in his heart, just like when they were kissing.

  “Hush. Anyway, we play this dive bar called the Stomp, and two nights ago, I did a Christmas set, and they passed the hat….”

  Apparently reassured that Seth would keep talking, Kelly turned the car ignition and set them on their way toward Monterey. By the time they arrived a few hours later, Kelly had asked him dozens of questions—and answered Seth’s questions about his job.

  “Vashti’s a good guy,” Kelly said for the umpteenth time. “But….” His smile went crooked as they negotiated through the tricky tunnel that was part of downtown. “He’s not you. He knows it. He’s dating someone else now, anyway.”

  “Yeah. Guthrie was just glad to have a friend to talk to about it. Like, the only people who know he’s bi are the guys he’s hooked up with. It’s sort of sad.”

  “That sucks. Left or right?”

  “Straight along the coast road past this curvy part. Then there’s going to be a road inland.”

  “Name?”

  “Yarrow.”

  “Pretty name. I like it. We should name a baby that.”

  Seth chuckled. “Sure. Chloe is looking good. She still remembers my voice—that’s sort of cool.”

  “Yeah, but she’s still behind in a bunch of milestones, Mom calls ’em. Like she’s sixteen months old, and she should be walking already, and her speech is way delayed, and she doesn’t… doesn’t change from thing to thing, you know? Like we used to be able to distract Agnes from someone leaving by giving her a toy. Chloe doesn’t do that. It’s frustrating. She cries a lot. But Mom thinks it’s because Isela did drugs when she was still pregnant and then ignored her after she was born. It’s like we used to get so tired because she was over at our house half the time. We didn’t realize we were her parents, you know?”

  “Yeah. That’s not your fault. Your brother….” Seth sighed. He’d heard Matty’s voice on Christmas day. “I… I don’t understand what broke him so badly. He’s not… I mean, the hating us is one thing. But all the other shit—that’s not your family. How does he not know better?”

  “I got nothing.” Kelly sighed. “Or maybe a little. I think….” He gave Seth a sideways glance. “Never mind.”

  “No.” Seth felt suddenly older. “Don’t do that. Tell me.”

  “I think Castor Durant was at Isela’s church a lot when we were all in high school. So Castor, he gets Isela started, and Isela, she hooks Matty. And Matty, he’s been getting high with the guys who attacked me. And I think that… that fucked him up. Like… like once upon a time he loved his brother. And then he said stupid hateful shit, and his brother got hurt. And now he does drugs to forget what he did to his brother. And then Dad happened, and now he does them to forget what happened to Dad. And it’s just making his life worse. You know?”