Page 20 of Drifting Hearts
Oh holy shit, did I not want to be attracted to him. Not only was it the worst idea on the planet, but nothing quite said “let’s fuck up the family dynamic” like giving in to a passing attraction to the enemy of your brother’s boyfriend. I didn’t know if former best friends were quite in enemy territory, but I did know that Archer hadn’t been to see Clayton since the hospital. I knew Mom kept Shane up to date about it, not trusting me at first to keep my cool with him.
I hadn’t talked to Shane much since I’d picked Clayton up. At first it was because I was too pissed at him to speak. I’d seen Clayton as a thief and a problem. Someone who wanted to take advantage of other people.
Now I was beginning to suspect that I had been wrong. Clayton did a bad thing, but people could do bad things without them being bad people. It didn’t help that I had Mom in my ear singing his praises. About how far he’d come since he moved in. How hard he worked at his therapy. He was quiet and kept to himself. She’d basically adopted him at this point.
“How did you meet Archer?”
Clayton looked at me like he couldn’t believe I’d actually be interested in anything he had to say. I supposed that was my fault for being such a prickly bastard. He sat and stared at me for a minute before launching into his story.
“We met through a community art class. Neither one of us really fit anywhere, you know? And we ended up in a summer art programtogether.” Clayton shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with the sudden walk down memory lane.
My appetite was sated, but I picked at my fries to give myself something to do. When Clayton continued, I was surprised.
“He was quiet in the beginning. Like he didn’t trust me. Or anyone. At first I thought Cyrus was his dad.” Clayton almost laughed at that. It was just a puff of air, a light sound that had his lips curving into the first proper smile I’d seen on his face. Even his eyes lit up. “Cyrus was so mad when I called him Mister Kinsman. Archer just about pissed himself laughing. It happened a lot, that people thought Cyrus was his dad and that their parents were Archer’s grandparents.”
“What was the art program like? What kind of stuff did you do there?”
“A bit of everything. There were different volunteers who would come in every week to host a class. Landscape artists. Portraits. Still life. Sculpture. Wood carving. Archer was good at everything.” Clayton rolled his eyes, but he looked proud, like he admired Archer.
“I’ve seen his paintings. He’s good.”
“He’s painting again? That’s good. That … that makes me happy. I wish I could tell him that I’m happy for him.” Clayton pushed his plate away and leaned back in the booth. Exhaustion was etched into his features. “Are you really going to help me get a job?”
“Do you want my help?”
“Want? No. Not really. Need? Yes. I need your help, Kieran.”
The quiet rasp of his voice scraped across my nerve endings in a thrilling way when he spoke my name. I wanted him to say it again and again while also hating that he said it like I was his friend. I wasn’t his anything. I was just doing my brother a favor because he’d gone and fallen for someone with excess baggage and too big of a heart. While I’d initially been annoyed that they insisted on helping Clayton,I couldn’t think of what would have become of him had they walked away. The thought of it made my stomach knot.
“I hate to be that guy, but can we go?” Clayton looked like he could sleep for a week.
“I’ll pay and then pull the truck around.”
“I’d argue with you, but I’m too tired.” Clayton frowned. “What kind of job can I get right now when walking more than a hundred feet wears me out for the rest of the day?”
“You let me worry about that.” I got up from the table and went up to the counter to settle the bill. By the time I paid and pulled the truck around, Clayton had hobbled out of the diner and, with a little extra effort, managed to heave himself into the passenger seat.
After buckling his seat belt, he closed his eyes. It was only when I pulled into the driveway at Mom’s did I realize that Clayton was asleep. He looked peaceful. Unbothered by pain and not haunted by his past. He was even more beautiful. And I was even more fucked.
Chapter 11
Clayton
It wasn’t hard tosee through Patricia’s lies. Her sunny disposition didn’t hide the fact that she was meddling. Her intentions were pure. I think, had I not spooked her by pulling my little disappearing act the other day, she might not have felt it necessary to make sure I got plenty of time out of the house.
She took me to lunch the other day before having Kieran take me to my physical therapy appointment. Lunch wasn’t bad. She took me to the food court at the mall, saying that being around people was good for me. In reality, it was a special kind of overstimulating hell. By the time I was finished lunch and physical therapy, I wanted to lie down for an eternal dirt nap.
“I’m sure Kieran doesn’t need my help on this trip.” I waved my broken arm at her. “I’m not good for much yet.”
Patricia puttered around in the kitchen gathering some snacks for the road as if she hadn’t heard a thing I said.
“Do you like snickerdoodles?” she asked. “Of course you do. Everyone likes snickerdoodles.”
“What is it we were picking up for you, again?”
“A birdbath. An antique birdbath.”
“Ah, yes. A birdbath.”
