Fortunate Son by Jay Crownover

Ry

“I RAN INTO Aston today.”

I looked at my cousin’s face on the other end of the video call and could tell by his expression that he was debating whether he should share that information with me.

Zowen and I looked a lot alike. We could pass for brothers, minus the fact he inherited his mother’s odd eye color combination. The genetic heterochromia iridum gave him one blue eye, that was the same winter color as mine, and one caramel brown one that was a few shades lighter than his mom’s single, chocolate-colored one. He was also a couple of inches shorter than I was, but since he was a bit younger, there was still time for him to catch up to my towering height.

“Oh yeah? Where did you see her?” I was honestly curious because my sister hadn’t even seen Aston since the breakup, and the two of them were usually attached at the hip.

“My bike needed a tune-up, so I went to the garage, and she was there working the parts and merch counter. She said she’s working through the summer until it’s time to leave for college.”

Zowen’s dad and Aston and Royce’s dad were business partners. Her father operated a custom car garage and a custom motorcycle shop. My Uncle Rome was big into Harleys and had Zowen and Remy on the back of his bike from the time they were really young. My cousin kept with the tradition of preferring two wheels to four, but he liked to go fast rather than cruise. He rode around on a foreign death machine that sometimes seemed like it might be able to break the sound barrier. He spent a lot of time at the motorcycle shop, so it wasn’t a surprise they bumped into one another there. Aston had had a part-time job there for as long as I could remember, as had Royce, before he left to live with his mom. If I wasn’t preoccupied with how pissed Bowe was earlier, I would’ve guessed that’s where the two of them crossed paths.

“How was she?” I held the phone out in one hand and leaned on the steering wheel of my truck. I had no clue when Bowe was going to be done with practice, so instead of going back to her house, I decided to wait for her in the parking lot. I knew good and well she wasn’t going to call and tell me when she was ready to leave the disastrous practice. And after the way that lilac-haired guy grabbed her, I was leaving nothing to chance.

Zowen shrugged and lifted the bill of his baseball hat up on his forehead. “She seemed sad. Sadder than you appear to be, that’s for damn sure.”

I lifted my eyebrows at him and questioned, “What’s that supposed to mean? I was the one who was dumped, remember? How could she possibly be sadder than me?”

“I dunno, dude. You definitely don’t look like a guy who lost the love of his life. You actually look pretty damn cheerful. It seems like Austin—or someone in Austin—agrees with you.” He narrowed his eyes at me in an accusing way. “You better not be fucking around with Bowe just to get your mind off Aston. Remy will literally murder you if she finds out you’re down there playing games with her favorite.”

I shook my head a little bit and assured him, “It’s nothing like that. Bowe and I have a lot of unfinished business from before I was ever with Aston. I don’t know why, but when Aston told me that we weren’t a good match and kept the fact that she wanted to move across the country a secret made me realize some things. I needed to fix some of the pieces of my life I left broken because they seemed too hard to put back together after I purposely smashed them. I need to start straightening things out with Bowe before I can even think of talking to Aston. I was trying to keep things from being super awkward between everyone back home, since we are all bound to run into each other this summer. Do me a favor and try to keep Remy at bay if she seems like she’s coming for blood. Tell her I’m here to heal, not to hurt anyone.”

Zowen made a sound of disbelief. “You think anyone can control my sister when she gets something in her head? You know Remy better than that. You better play nice with Bowe so she doesn’t feel the need to call in the cavalry. You know if Remy shows, she has a special skill for stirring shit up and making any situation worse than it already was. She’ll never let you unburn a bridge you already torched. By the way, when are you coming back? Your dad was not happy that you disappeared without telling anyone. Did you talk to him already?”

I grunted. “I did.” It was one of those conversations where he didn’t say much but still managed to make me feel about two-inches tall. No one could make me feel like I wasn’t living up to my full potential like my father. And it wasn’t even that he criticized me. It was just his quiet, often confusing way of not questioning the choices I made. Sometimes I really felt like he viewed me as an alien. Like I was some foreign lifeform he struggled to believe he had any part in creating. I knew he never meant to make me feel misunderstood or underappreciated. We were just two very different people who operated on opposite wavelengths. “I’m sorry you caught the brunt of his anger. He knows I usually tell you everything, so I’m sure he thought you were just covering for me when you told him you didn’t know where I was.”

Zowen barked out a laugh and pointed the finger at the camera. “I thought he and my dad were going to throw down for a second when he insisted I was lying. It was crazy. Could you imagine the two of them going at it?”

I scoffed. “No. Because there is no way your mom would let that happen.”

Zowen’s mom was a tiny little spitfire of a woman who absolutely called the shots in their household. He towered over her in an almost comical manner, but ever since we were young, she was the one he worried about catching him whenever Remy convinced him to participate in her antics.

“You know your dad gave you a hard time because you never do anything wrong. You’ve always been such a good kid; he had no idea how to handle you suddenly acting the way he used to act when he was your age. My dad told me that it wasn’t uncommon for Uncle Rule to drop off the map for days or even weeks at a time when he was younger. He and Uncle Nash used to get up to some pretty sketchy things when they were around our ages, so I’m sure he was just envisioning the worst. You should’ve caused more problems back in the day, and then he wouldn’t be reacting so harshly now.”

“He’s pissed that I made my mom worry.” Which I understood. I didn’t agree that he was concerned I was suddenly turning into him and rebelling against the whole world. We had our differences, but I wanted to believe he knew me better than that. I didn’t do defiance for defiance’s sake. I only acted out with one person, and as always, managed to make her mad by doing so.

“Yeah. But he was also very worried about you. I think he gets that you are fully capable of handling yourself, but you’re kind of an idiot when it comes to more nuanced things like feelings and emotions. You keep yours locked down so tight all the time; you’re like a robot malfunctioning when the feelings finally break free.” He cocked his head to the side and adjusted his hat again, which let me know he was embarrassed by what he just said. “I say that with love, though.”

It wasn’t the first time he compared me to a robot, so I didn’t bother getting offended. Instead, I turned the subject back around. “You never told me why you think Aston is acting sadder than I am. I still don’t get why she would be when she was the one who wanted to break up.”

Zowen rubbed his hand across his chin and shifted his gaze away from the camera. “She’s always such a chill girl. She just goes with the flow and always seems so happy. She’s not as unpredictable and crazy as Remy and Daire. But when she saw me walk into the shop, she bolted like she was late with the rent and I was her landlord. When I tracked her down to ask her what was up, she looked like she was ready to cry. I tried to ask her about California and very deliberately didn’t bring you up in any way, shape, or form, but she barely managed to string a sentence together when we were talking. I asked if she was excited to move, and she told me it was something she had to do. It was such a weird conversation. And she was definitely acting out of character. She didn’t even ask me how you were doing. I know you just broke up and all, but we’ve all been friends forever. I think it’s super odd she didn’t ask me how you were holding up, knowing she just stomped all over your heart.”

I frowned, the lines deepening on my forehead the longer he kept talking. “You’re right. None of that sounds like her.” And when she told me about going to school on the coast, she never mentioned that it was something she had to do. “I’ll ask Daire to check on her and see if she can figure out what’s really going on with her.”

He sighed and reached up to fully pull his hat off his head. Immediately a lock of wayward black hair fell across his forehead and obscured his one blue eye. “All these girls got us worrying about them. It’s exhausting. It feels like a full-time job.”

I chuckled, my gaze flicking across the parking lot as the front doors to the industrial building that housed Bowe’s practice space finally opened. The girl with the bright red pigtails who played the keyboards was the first one out. She was followed by the Hispanic guy who played the drums. He was a big dude and was covered in some pretty impressive tattoo work. I particularly liked the big Mayan-style bird that covered the front of his neck. Aside from Bowe, he was really the only other band member who stood out to me. He had a big personality and equally big passion. They both shined through, even though he was hidden behind a massive drum set.

Bowe and the purple-haired guy were nowhere to be seen.

“My dad would say the reason we appreciate the women in our lives as much as we do is because they make us work so hard for everything. The effort put in is returned double.” I chuckled again and reached for the door handle. “He says the same thing about practice. He always tells me if I want to be rewarded for the work put in, it needs to hurt, and it should never be easy. I gotta go.” The person who required the most work and my undivided attention was finally stepping out of the building, and the asshole punk rock guy was hot on her heels. I could tell she was still irritated at him, but that didn’t stop the guy from talking her ear off as she turned to lock the door to the building. “I’ll let you know if Daire finds out anything about Aston, and I’ll give you a call when I’m on my way back to Colorado.”

“And maybe fill me in on exactly what is this unfinished business between you and Bowe. I feel like there are all kinds of secrets we’re suddenly keeping from each other. I don’t like it at all.”

I hung up the video call without bothering to answer him. My sneakers hit the asphalt silently as I stalked toward Bowe, who was making her way across the parking lot, the bass player in tow. They both looked at me when I called her name. Even though it was dark and the lighting sucked, I thought I saw a flash of relief flicker across her gaze. There was no doubt about it; the punk rocker looked at me like he wanted to use my intestines as a replacement wallet chain.

“Hey. Are you ready to head home?” I stopped in front of them and watched as Bowe let out a breath she was holding.

Before she could speak, the guy lurking behind her piped up. “I’ll take you home, Bowe. Didn’t you say you were hungry? Let’s grab something to eat, and I’ll drop you off after we’re done.”

I watched as she rolled her eyes and obviously tried to keep herself from biting his head off as she gritted out through clenched teeth, “No, thank you. Since Ry is here and he’s not familiar with Austin, I’m just going to ride with him. You go ahead and have a good night.”

Her hands tightened into fists at her sides as she took a step closer to me. Her cheeks were pink, and there was a muscle jumping in her cheek as she struggled to keep her temper in check.

“I’ll see you at practice tomorrow, Nyle. I really hope we have a better one than we did tonight. There’s no way the band in that room today can open for another group. We’d get booed off the stage.” I jolted a little when she suddenly reached out and grasped my forearm. I couldn’t read the expression in her eyes, but her body language was practically begging me to get her away from him as soon as possible. “Let’s go.”

I allowed her to drag me toward the truck. I could feel the daggers that Nyle was staring into my back the entire way. Once she reached the passenger’s side of the big vehicle, she dropped her hold on my arm and suddenly turned to face me.

I was about to ask her if she was okay and if there was anything I could do, when she reached up and grabbed a handful of my t-shirt, pulling me down so that we were eye-level.

“Don’t read anything into this, Ry. I’m desperate, and there is only one way to get that guy to back off.”

I wasn’t ready for her lips to land on mine.

She was the first girl I ever kissed, but that sloppy, uncoordinated attempt felt like a lifetime ago. Back then, she kissed me because she lost a dare. Then, I kissed her to quiet her down during an absurd argument, and she promptly slapped me across the face. Before either of us knew what was happening, our arguments would often end with us making out. Each kiss leading to something more, something neither of us were prepared to deal with. Sleeping with her when we were teenagers was my favorite memory and my worst regret. I often wondered if we’d waited, if we’d managed to keep our impulses in check until we grew into our complex and confusing feelings for each other, if we would’ve become something that would last a lifetime… like our parents.

We’d both learned some finesse and acquired some skill in the years that had gone by. But it felt like kissing for the first time all over again because the way she lit me up from the inside out had only happened once before—with her. She made me forget where I was, who I was, what I thought I was. All I could focus on when my mouth was on hers was the way our breath mingled and the soft give of her lips under mine. She was sweet back then; she was a bit spicier now, but the way my heart kicked and my pulse pounded as we kissed were exactly the same. It was all incredibly familiar but brand new at the same time. It was as if she woke up every good memory of the two of us, and they rushed to the forefront of my mind. While they danced there, it was impossible to recall all the bad ones she starred in.

I felt her hand tighten on my shirt and a little sigh escape her lips as I pressed closer, wanting to taste more of her. Almost as if it had a mind of its own, my tongue darted out and flicked eagerly across the seam of her lips. I wanted inside. I wanted her warmth, and the damp press of her tongue twisted against mine. I felt her gasp, and a second later, her hand was on the center of my chest, and she pushed me backward with enough force I nearly stumbled.

Before, I was the one who pushed her away metaphorically. Now, she was doing it physically. It wasn’t a good feeling, and I got a hint of why she was so mad at me back then when I’d handled everything all wrong.

I was disoriented, caught between the past and the present, locked in the middle of a memory and reality. Back then, I was the one who shocked her by stealing a kiss when she least expected it. Today, she definitely returned the favor.

While I stared down at her blankly, she looked over my shoulder and gave a satisfied smile at whatever she saw. I glanced back and noticed we were alone in the parking lot. I figured she was happy she finally got rid of the bass player.

When I turned my head back around to ask her what had just happened, I wasn’t ready for her hand to shoot up and grab my face between her fingers hard enough that it hurt.

“What was that, Archer? You had a girlfriend like two days ago, and you’re supposed to be brokenhearted. I told you not to read anything into it. Desperate times call for desperate measures, but you went too far.” She squished my cheeks and rocked my face back and forth. “Why are you so well-behaved with everyone else on the planet but not with me?” She let go of my face and touched her fingers to her lips.

I couldn’t tell if she was trying to wipe the kiss away or if she was trying to hold the imprint of it there.

“I don’t know why I’m only different when I’m with you.” But that was one of the reasons I’d headed to Austin without any kind of plan or forethought the moment I was lost and questioning everything.

Maybe spending some time with her would help me finally find an answer to her question. And maybe I could figure out if the real me was the one everyone else saw or the one who wanted to kiss her again more than I wanted to make it to the Super Bowl.