Page 19 of The Official Problem
Ivan’s smile didn’t falter, though something in his eyes flickered for just a second. Kieran caught it, then it was gone, buried beneath a shrug as Ivan turned to the grill. Whatever was sizzling under the hood smelled incredible, and Kieran’s stomach let out an audible groan.
“Sorry if I’m late—wasn’t sure when things started.”
From the looks of it, everyone was already a few drinks in.
Ivan waved him off. “Is all-day thing. People come, people go. I’m glad you came.”
“Well, it was strongly implied I didn’t have a choice, so…”
A hand landed on Kieran’s shoulder with a light squeeze. He turned to find Nix behind him, the other arm loaded with burger buns.
“Great to see you, Kieran.” He beamed as he handed the buns to Ivan. “You’ve met my wife, Cynthia.” He nodded toward the women on the porch, “…and those are my three rugrats down there.”
Kieran didn’t have to ask which three. The boys were carbon copies of their dad, and the little girl playing goalie had the same fierce look Cynthia wore in net.
“Did you bring anyone?”
Ivan chuckled, stacking burgers into a mountain of buns. “This man settle down? Is same day hell freeze over.”
While that was true, Kieran couldn’t help noticing the little sting the comment left in its wake.
“I used to say the same about you.”
Ivan’s chuckle came slower this time, the corners of his mouth twitching before he glanced down at the grill. Kieran filed it away. Then Ivan grinned, a flicker of emotion sparking in his eyes as he glanced toward the patio, where Jasper was approaching. He took the plate from Ivan without a word, rose onto his toes to press a quick kiss to his husband’s cheek, and then walked away without looking back.
“You’ll find your person,” Ivan said at last, his eyes lingering on Jasper’s retreating form. “Just need to start putting self out there.”
The problem was, Kieran had already found—and lost—his person, whether he wanted to admit it or not. What was the point of dating someone new, pretending anyone else could ever measure up? It would be unfair even to try.
Ivan seemed to be waiting for a response. What was there to say? Kieran wasn’t interested. A few years ago, Ivan would’ve agreed with him. Both of them had written off the whole idea of settling down. That was before he apparently fell ass over tit for the blonde hipster weaving through the kids, handing out paper plates of food. It was all very domestic.
“Maybe one day,” Kieran replied, to shut him up.
Nix, clearly picking up on Kieran’s discomfort, finally stepped in. “The kids loved having you at the center the other day. Cynthia says Emily hasn’t stopped raving about meeting thegreat Kieran Lloyd. I know the season’s busy, but if you’ve got time, we’d love to have you back.”
Kieran shifted his weight, grateful for the change in subject. He glanced past Nix to the lawn, where a group of kids had just tackled a cackling Bergstrom to the ground.
“Yeah, definitely. I’d love to do more,” he said, turning toward Andre. “Maybe I could pick your and Cynthia’s brains sometime? Does the center need anything—gear, equipment? I could write a check.”
Ivan grunted and jabbed the hot dogs with a little too much force. The fork clanked hard against the grill grate. Kieran couldn’t tell if it was amusement or skepticism, but either way, it felt like he’d said the wrong thing.
Nix sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw as he watched his kids race across the yard. “You want my honest opinion, Kieran?”
“Um… always.”
“Cynthia won’t say no to a check—God knows the center’s underfunded. But these kids come from nothing. Money doesn’t stretch as far as you think. The equipment’s old, sure, but it works.”
Ivan flipped the hot dogs, the smell of charred meat rising between them. He shot Kieran a sidelong glance, quick and unreadable, then dropped the grill with a soft thunk.
“There’s got to be something, right?” Kieran asked, rubbing the back of his neck. “I want to help, Andre.”
“What these kids need is time,” Nix said, turning his full attention back to him. “Some of them lost their parents years ago. Others technically still have them, but you wouldn’t know it. They’re neglected, ignored. They need role models. The center’s the only place they get real attention and support.”
Kieran nodded slowly, lips pressed together. His gaze dropped to the brick beneath his feet, then lifted when a kid’s shout rang out from the lawn.
“A lot of folks stop by the center once,” Nix continued. “They do their community service because it’s required, or to feel better about themselves, then move on without giving the kids a second thought. Maybe they send checks for a few months, but these kids don’t care about that. They need someone who shows up. Again and again.”
Kieran hesitated under the weight of Nix’s words. He’d known someone once who could’ve used a place like that, someone who’d grown up with a roof over his head and food in his belly, but never felt the love he deserved.
