“Spoilsport. The door is locked.”
“God, it’s amazing. Seriously.”
“So jelly.”
Jelly. Good God. He decided not to tell them about the rooftop patio. It was freezing out, and they had to dance tomorrow. He wasn’t that much older than they were, but he sometimes felt like “Dad” had been tattooed on him somewhere.
“Are you guys having a good time?”
He was good and surrounded when he caught sight of Colt slipping into the dining room all squeaky clean and shiny-looking. He gave a wave but wasn’t sure whether Colt saw it.
Timmy had hold of Colt the next time Kyle saw him, walking him around and introducing him to people. Every so often Colt would look at him, smile at him, dark eyes rolling.
Not long after that, when the caterers had gone and the buffet was pretty thin, the music got loud, and the civilized Thanksgiving celebration turned into more of a house party. He found himself dancing with pretty much everyone but Colt. Jake cut in on Danny, Allison cut in on Jake, Rob stole Allison when Mig stepped in.
At some point, he even danced with Timmy, the guy pressing close. “I’m going to head out soon. I have an early flight. It’s been a great party.”
He was good with that; Timmy was special. “Thanks, Timmy. For… a lot of things.” He hooked an arm around Timmy’s back and gave him a practiced turn around the back sunroom, which was serving as the dance floor. “Did you see where Colt got off to?”
“He’s sitting in that cushy chair in the foyer, watching people go in and out and making sure if they leave tipsy, they make it to a cab.” Timmy chuckled. “I’m not sure he knows what to do without a guitar.”
“I’m not sure why he doesn’t have one.” He let Timmy go. “You have an Uber? You need one?” He walked Timmy to the door, spotting Colt and giving him a wink.
“You going, boo?”
“I am. My Uber is here. I’ll send pictures from the beach!”
Colt laughed as he hugged Timmy tight. “You do that. I want to see everything.”
“Ugh. Send pictures, but expect swear words in response.” He laughed and sent Timmy on his way. “Hope he doesn’t try to fly with green. I’m not going to have time tomorrow to make his bail.” He grinned and leaned against Colt.
“He’s smarter than that… I hope.” Colt’s arm snaked around his waist. “You having a good time, cher? Did you get good food?”
“Oh, your shrimp was so good. Everybody said so. Thank you so much for doing that. I’m sorry you got stuck in the kitchen, though. I didn’t mean for that to happen.” He was having a good time. He was so ready for everyone to go home now, though.
“I like to cook, and Susan is a hoot. I’m glad all y’all liked the shrimps.” Colt rested hard against him, looking lovely in jeans and a white button-down, black hair curling every which way.
He reached out and twisted a finger into one of the curls, lazily swirling it around his finger. “So we have two choices, baby. Join them, or kick them out.” He laughed. There were only a handful of people left, and he’d bet that once one got the hint, they all would. He gave the bartender a wave and the guy faded the music out.
Colt laughed for him. “No more music. Guess they have to go.”
Sure enough, people appeared from upstairs, from the kitchen, and from the sunroom.
“You guys have cabs? All good? Thank you for coming.” By the time he tipped the bartender and closed the front door, he was pretty done.
“Do you want help cleaning up tonight? I only have until about noon tomorrow.”
“No, baby. It can wait. I’m greedy and I want to spend the time with you. Let’s just get the lights.” He couldn’t let Colt leave without…. They needed time to talk.
They did end up cleaning up a little as they went from room to room, turning lights out. Kyle grabbed an open bottle of wine and two glasses to take upstairs with them. He did the rounds up there too and was relieved not to find someone in the hot tub or sleeping off a buzz in one of the guest rooms.
“All clear.”
“Good deal, cher. Good party, hmm? Sit and I’ll rub on your shoulders. You look tired.”
“I’m a little tired.” He sat just where Colt told him to. He wasn’t half as tired as he was worried. He didn’t know how to start the conversation he wanted to have.
Colt started working on his shoulders, fingers digging in, working in sure, strong circles, searching out his sore spots unerringly.