Demming by Avril Ashton

Thirteen

The knock came just as Hart finished getting dressed. He’d spent all day in meetings, working on a new deal, and hadn’t had time to do anything, not even eat. He’d finally forced himself away from the office and made his way home, grabbing a quick shower and packing a bag before he headed out to Sawyer, who he’d only been in contact with via text.

He went to the door and pulled it open, unable to help the frown that settled on his face when he took in his mother standing there. “What’s wrong? Is it Dad?”

She waved away his concern and stepped inside. “Your father’s fine. Don’t worry.”

He closed the door behind her and lifted an eyebrow. “Okay. What’s up?”

She glanced around then turned to him. “I noticed you didn’t come home last night—”

“Mom.” He huffed out a breath and turned away from her, heading back into the bedroom. “Can we not do this?”

“Do what?” She sank onto his bed, watching him with eyes that seemed to know everything. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay and safe.”

He rolled his eyes, but there was nothing but love behind it. She was a worrier. And a meddler. “I’m okay.”

“And safe?” She lifted an eyebrow and he sputtered.

“You realize I’m not a kid anymore, right?”

“You’re my kid, doesn’t matter how old you get.” She paused, expression softening. “Are you seeing someone?”

He pressed his lips together with a nod. Things with Sawyer were way too early for him to be talking about it in much detail, but... “Yes, I’m seeing someone, but it’s still very early so that’s all I’m gonna say about it.” He sat next to her and took her hand in his. He’d thought to wait until the next time he joined his parents for dinner to break the news about him moving back into his old place, but he might as well do it now. “I’ve decided to move back to my apartment in the city,” he told her softly.

Her eyes widened a fraction, but she didn’t say anything, just listened quietly.

“The plan had always been for me to be here until Dad was better, and he is.” He might not be the man he’d been before the stroke, but he was striving, growing stronger by the day, and his doctors were happy with his progress. “It’s time. You guys don’t need me underfoot anymore.”

“We will always need you.” His mother narrowed her eyes. “Does this decision have to do with your new relationship?”

“It’s not a relationship, Mom, and no, I told you—”

She held up a hand. “I’m just checking. Can’t be too sure. I know how you young people feel about living with your parents.”

He snorted. “I mean, it’s not ideal.”

She cupped his chin. “I will always support your decisions, as long as they aren’t going to hurt you. So if you feel it’s time to go, I’m okay with that. But family dinners once a week still stands.”

“I know.” He kissed her palm. “How do you think Dad will take it?”

“Your father will be fine. He just wants you to be happy.”

He wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her temple. He’d been lucky to have the parents he had. His father had worked a lot, but he’d been there when it counted, always. Growing up, he remembered so many friends not having parents around, not because they’d died or anything, but because they just couldn’t be bothered. His father had been focused on Hart joining the company, but he’d never made Hart feel as if he wasn’t loved.

“What’s in the bag?” his mother asked once he released her and pulled back.

“Overnight clothes.”

She smiled. “Sounds like a relationship to me.”

He rolled his eyes again.

* * *

A pounding wokeDemming and he opened his eyes with a grunt and a wince, flinging his right arm across his forehead. His left arm was trapped under Hart’s body and he gently tugged, pushing the other man off as the pounding resumed.

Shit.

Hart lifted his head, eyes barely open. “Sawyer? What’s going on?”

Ever since they first slept together—a week ago—Hart had been spending the night at Demming’s. “Go back to sleep,” Demming told him as he rolled off the bed and grabbed the jeans he’d discarded the night before. “I’ll handle whoever it is.”

He didn’t wait to see if Hart followed his instructions as he headed out in the direction of the pounding. A glance through the peephole had him yanking the door open so hard his brother staggered and almost fell into him.

“What the fuck, Bryce?”

His brother stomped past him without a word, waiting until Demming closed the door before speaking. “You wanted to see me, right? You left a bunch of texts and voicemails saying so, so here I am.”

“It couldn’t wait until a decent fucking hour?” Demming scrubbed a hand over his face and marched into the kitchen, putting on coffee. “You should be in school, shouldn’t you? Isn’t that why I’m paying your tuition?”

His back was to Bruce, but he heard the other man’s groan. “Ugh, here we go. There are more important things than school, you know.”

Demming rounded on him. “Like what? Fucking around with those people you call friends and worrying our mother to death?”

“I don’t worry her, you do. When you leave for fuck knows how long and stay gone without a word. At least she gets to see me, she knows I’m in the same city. You?” Scorn twisted Bryce’s features as he spat at Demming. “This is like the longest you’ve been home.” He folded his arms. “So when are you leaving?”

“What I do pays for the roof over your head and the tuition you’re wasting and your car and your fucking clothes, so you’re not going to guilt me for doing what I need to do to provide for my family.”

“That’s been your excuse for years now. Dude, the house is paid for a million times over, everything is, so why are you still doing it, huh? ’Cause you don’t want to be around us?”

The fuck? Demming stared at his brother. “That’s what you think?”

“What am I supposed to think?” Bryce yelled. “I don’t even get to talk to you.”

“Lower your voice, right the fuck now.” Sawyer advanced on him. “And you could have talked to me all the times I tried to connect with you, but you’ve got whatever grudge you’re carrying on your shoulders and I guess you think that’s more important than telling me what it is you feel.” He scrubbed a hand over his face with a sigh. “I’m not a mind reader, Bryce. Just tell me what’s on your mind.”

His brother glanced away. Demming took in the stubborn set of his jaw, his unkempt look, and felt his heart crack in his chest.

“What’s on my mind is that Dad died and then you disappeared. And kept disappearing,” Bryce mumbled.

“I had to leave,” Demming told him softly. “We needed money. I had to make sure Mom didn’t lose the house. That she didn’t lose you.” Their mother had been too stuck in her grief to go out and find a job. It’d been up to Demming.

Bryce’s throat worked, an angry flush covering his neck and face. “And I get that, but you left me to deal with her, Sawyer. She was sad all the time, always crying, and I didn’t know what to do and I couldn’t handle it…” His eyes were red, glittering. “And I just wanted you, but you were gone and then when you came back, it’s like you were too busy getting ready to leave again.” His voice shook and Demming went to him, clasping his shoulder and squeezing. Bryce turned his face away, likely to hide the emotion dripping from his eyes, and Demming pulled him into his arms, hugging him tightly.

He hadn’t given any thought to what leaving meant for Bryce. He’d simply known he had to do whatever he needed to in order to keep his family together, safe, and as whole as they could be with their father and husband gone. Bryce was right; he’d stopped needing to do what he did a long time ago. He’d amassed more money than he knew what to do with, thanks to the lucrative jobs men like Renzo Vega hired him to do. But he kept leaving.

Why?

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, chin pressed to the top of Bryce’s head. “I didn’t think about any of that, about how it impacted you, and I should have. I’m sorry.”

His brother made a choked sound.

“Everything okay?”

Demming lifted his head at Hart’s soft query. His lover stood in the doorway, dressed, but barefoot, eyes brimming with concern. Bryce stiffened and pulled away, turning to gape at Hart, who fidgeted from foot to foot.

“Everything is fine.” Demming held out a hand and Hart crossed the room to take it. “This is my brother, Bryce. Bryce, this is Hart.”

Hart nodded at Bryce, who didn’t speak, just stared at him with speculation in his eyes. “I’m gonna head out,” Hart told him. “I’ve got a meeting that I can’t put off and I don’t want to be late.”

Demming wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him yet, but he needed this time with Bryce. His brother was opening up to him and they needed to air some things out. “Okay. Give me a minute,” he told Bryce as he followed Hart back into the bedroom, kissing him properly.

“Are things okay with you two? I heard yelling.”

“Yeah.” He moved away from Hart and watched as his lover put on his shoes. “He has some things to say and I need to listen.” Even though it hurt like hell. “Come on, I’ll walk you out,” he said when Hart picked up his overnight bag.

“Nice to meet you, Bryce,” Hart called as they made their way to the front door.

“Yeah. Uh, you too.”

Demming opened the door before pulling Hart close and kissing him again. “See you tonight?”

“Yeah.” Hart smiled, gave him one last quick kiss, and then he was gone.

Demming released a breath and rubbed the top of his head as he closed the door.

Bruce was waiting for him when he turned around. “You— That’s a—” His mouth opened and closed. “You’re gay?”

Demming’s lips twitched. “Bi.” Apparently.

Bryce still had that mouth like a fish thing happening. “Does Mom know?”

“Not yet.”

The other man rocked back on his heels. “Wow.” He drew it out.

Demming narrowed his eyes. “Do you have a problem with it?”

Bryce threw both hands up, palms out in surrender. “Hey, my girlfriend likes girls too. I don’t care.”

“Is that the girlfriend that has you skipping classes to play music in a fucking garage?”

“She doesn’t make me do anything!” Bryce’s voice rose and he grabbed his hair with both hands, tugging, making a sound of frustration. “I swear to God, Sawyer. Sometimes I just…school isn’t the answer for everything, you know. What if I don’t want to do it?”

Back in the kitchen, Demming poured himself a cup of coffee and offered one to his brother, who declined. “So, you don’t want to do college. What’s your plan?”

“I want to play in my band. We’re fucking good, dude. Like, we’re so good, and we just need a chance and some money to—”

“Ah.” Demming nodded. “Money.”

“Isn’t that why you abandoned me and Mom, to make money for us?” Bryce lifted an eyebrow, expression issuing a challenge. “Well, I’m asking for some of that money to invest in my band.”

“Guilt trips don’t work on me,” he said coolly. “But I’ll give you the money. Just know there will be conditions.”

“I fucking knew it.” Bruce flung himself onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar. “Nothing can be easy with you. Fine, what do you want?”

“I want you back in school. You figure out a way to balance your band with your classes—a reasonable way, not just something to appease me—and I’ll give you the money.”

Bruce grumbled under his breath then spoke louder. “Fine.”

“Also, if your grades fall below a B minus, you pay me all the money back.”

“Seriously?” Bryce jumped to his feet. “Seriously.”

“Those are my terms.” Demming held his gaze over the rim of his coffee cup. “Take it or leave it.” His phone went off and he picked it up from the counter. “Hold on.” He held up a finger to Bryce as he answered. “Renzo.”

“Got a job.”

Fuck. Renzo was the only man he couldn’t afford to say no to. “Give me about a half-hour and I’ll call you back.” He hung up and turned to his brother. “Think over what I just said and let me know your decision.” He closed the distance between them and put a hand on Bryce’s shoulder. “It was never my intention to abandon you, but I did anyway and for that I’m sorry. I want you to be happy.” He swallowed, the emotion thickening his words. “I want you to be successful and I will always look out for you. I love you, never doubt that. If this band thing makes you happy, do it, but don’t discount college. Please?”

Bryce nodded with a sniff. “Okay. Thanks,” he said grudgingly.

Demming grinned then sobered. “You can talk to me, please know that. You can talk to me about anything. I’ll make sure I’m available whenever you need me.”

Bryce searched his gaze then nodded again. “I’m sorry I interrupted your…” He motioned. “And ran your boyfriend off.”

“Hart’s fine.”

“When are you going to tell Mom about him?”

“When there’s something to tell.”