Almost Just Friends Read online

  “I feel like he was just offering you a refill, not counseling,” Gavin stage-whispered.

  “Food’s getting cold,” Emmitt said, and everyone started eating.

  Cam was impressed. He had no idea his dad could command a room without trying.

  Halfway through eating, Gavin cleared his throat and looked at Piper. “I know you think I’m in trouble and shouldn’t overextend myself, but I do better when I’m productive. I’ve decided I’m going to hire myself out to build websites on the side.”

  “You’ll have to schmooze and wine and dine people,” Winnie said. “Not exactly a smart idea for a recovering druggie.”

  “Says the teenager who’s pregnant,” Gavin retorted. “And when exactly did that seem like a stellar idea to you, huh? I mean, it’s right up there with that time you tried to trap a pile of ants with peanut butter, and then thought you could still eat the peanut butter.”

  “Hey, I was four,” Winnie said. “Don’t even get me started on the stupid things you’ve done.”

  “She’s got you there,” CJ said into his mug of coffee.

  Gavin rolled his eyes. “Thanks.”

  “Anytime.”

  “And also,” Winnie said to the room, “I’m not a teenager anymore. I’m twenty.”

  “Pass the syrup,” Piper said.

  CJ tossed her the squeeze bottle. “Nice refereeing.”

  “Not my first time.”

  They ate. They laughed over Gavin’s recounting of his adventure to the grocery store via Uber, with a driver who wanted fashion advice since everyone knew gay men were “fashionistas.”

  “Did you tell him that your gay fashion sense was broken?” CJ asked with a straight face, as they all eyed Gavin’s Hawaiian board shorts and surf-shop T-shirt that had seen better days a decade ago.

  Winnie then told everyone she’d fixed the downstairs bathroom’s plumbing with Gorilla Tape, and had submitted a video of it to the people who made the tape because she was convinced she belonged in a commercial.

  Emmitt just seemed happy to be included. Cam looked around the table, watching the heckling, the laughter—even the bickering all felt . . . good. He knew there were huge problems lurking just beneath the surface, but for now it felt like a happy family moment, and he made eye contact with Piper. And while he knew his expression probably said he was enjoying this, hers was Oh, shit, I’m enjoying this.

  CJ’s phone went off. He read a text and rose, giving Gavin an apologetic look. “Sorry. I’ve gotta go.”

  Piper’s phone went off as well. “Me too. There’s been a shooting at the convenience store. Everyone stay home until I know more.”

  Cam had spent his entire adult life being the one to be called in, being the guy in charge of emergencies, always the one to tell people to stay back and let him handle things. Being the one in danger, being in the center of the action and in charge was the only way to control the outcome and make sure everyone stayed safe.

  So watching Piper walk out the door toward danger while he stayed back was one of the hardest things he’d ever done.

  “Yeah,” Gavin said quietly, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Sucks to be the one left behind, doesn’t it?”

  Chapter 22

  “As it turned out, there really were several layers of stupid.”

  Gavin sat at the kitchen table, Sweet Cheeks asleep on his lap as he worked on his computer on the B&B website. He was tentatively calling it the Rainbow Lodge and was having fun with that at midnight when Piper finally got home.

  She practically crawled through the door, exhaustion etched across her face. And something more too. Grief, probably, for whatever she’d seen on the job. Though upon second glance, it seemed deeper, like it’d brought up remembered horrors from her past.

  Their past.

  His own memories were extremely conflicted, and he liked to pretend he didn’t remember a lot of it. But that was a big, fat lie. He remembered everything.

  The thing was, that even right up until the very end, he’d loved every minute of his family’s vagabond, wanderlustful life. He’d seen parts of the world that few ever would, and he’d soaked up the different cultures like he’d been born to it. And hell, he had.

  But he’d lost Arik. And in the ensuing chaos and insanity, he’d also lost his childhood.

  Once he and his sisters had landed in Wildstone, Piper had done everything in her power to bring it back to him, and in a lot of ways, she’d succeeded. But a part of him would always be that terrified ten-year-old who’d lost everything.

  He stood and took Piper’s heavy bag off her shoulder, hanging it up on a hook by the front door. Then he pulled her into the kitchen and pointed to a chair.

  She sat in it so mindlessly, he knew she probably hadn’t sat or eaten in twelve hours. So he did the only thing he could do for her. He fed her. He was flipping her favorite—a grilled triple cheese and turkey sandwich—when she took a deep breath.

  “I’ve got something to tell you,” she said. “I’m not supposed to. I promised a friend and a work associate that I wouldn’t.” She held his gaze across the stove. “So I need you to promise me that you’re not going to run out of here. You can’t. You’re not supposed to know. It’s not my place to tell you, but . . . I know you. I know what haunts you, and I know why. So I can’t . . .” She closed her eyes. “I can’t not tell you, Gavin.”

  Heart suddenly pounding, he turned off the stove, slid the sandwich onto a plate, and brought it to her. Then he squatted at her side and waited until she looked at him. “You’re scaring me, Piper.”

  “I know, but if I say nothing and you find out . . .” She gave a slow shake of her head, her eyes shiny. “I’m afraid of what it might do to you. To your recovery.”

  He sat back on his heels. “Not making me feel any better.”

  “The shooting in the convenience store. It was an attempted robbery. When we all arrived, the shooter was still active. The cops created a diversion so several of them could enter the store. One charged the suspect. And he took the guy down too. But not before he was shot.”

  Gavin had stopped breathing. “CJ.”

  “Yes, but, Gavin, this isn’t the DRC, okay? It’s not Arik. CJ isn’t going to die—”

  Gavin surged to his feet and headed to the door, but Piper caught him with surprising strength, holding on to him, refusing to let go. He could have fought her, but his knees were wobbly, and he realized she was talking to him.

  “He’s going to be okay. Gavin, are you listening to me?” She added a shake. “The GSW was a through and through. He’s probably already been released from the hospital by now. He bitched all the way there in the ambulance, saying he didn’t need to go. And I imagine he bitched all the way through getting patched up too. The only reason we got him to go at all was because it was his shoulder and he’d lost a lot of blood.”

  Gavin closed his eyes and reminded himself that he did in fact know how to breathe.

  “Gavin? You okay?”

  Sure. His biggest nightmare was coming true, but other than that . . . “Yes. Let go of me.”

  She slowly backed up and gave him some space. He met her gaze and was reminded that she was dead on her feet. “Go to bed, Piper.”

  “But—”

  “I promise not to do anything stupid.”

  She stared at him for a long moment, and then gave him a hard hug. “If you need me—”

  “I know. I’ll come get you if I do.” He waited until she went upstairs. Then he waited some more to make sure she was asleep.

  He called CJ first and was sent to voice mail. He texted. No response.

  If CJ had been in danger of dying, Piper would’ve told him. He knew that. The sun would come up tomorrow. The sun would also go down tomorrow. And Piper would never lie to him. These things he knew for sure. His sister did the right thing, always. Never the easy thing.

  So . . . why wouldn’t CJ answer?

  Maybe Gavin had gotten too close too fast for com