Change of Heart (Fostering Love 2)

“So, I’ll see you Monday, right?”

“Yeah. Monday.” Without another word, he spun around and walked out of my house, closing the door quietly behind him. Then I heard him locking the dead bolt, reminding me that he had one of the spare keys to my place.

I had a key for his town house, too. I’d never needed to use it, but I had it.

The weight of our intertwined lives hit me with the force of a sledgehammer as I made my way back to bed.

We not only shared the same family, but I worked with Bram. I saw him every single day. Sure, we didn’t really speak to each other unless it was work-related—but I still saw him. When my best friends came to visit, he was there. When I went to see Liz and Dan, he was there. When I needed help on my house, he showed up with Dan, Mike, and Trevor, complete with a tool belt and a truck full of power tools.

For the first time since we’d met, I was nervous around Bram. My snarky mouth seemed to suddenly disappear when he looked at me, when before his presence was all I’d needed to smart off. After fourteen years of living parallel lives, we’d intersected, and now I had no idea how to get us running parallel again.

And the shittiest part of the whole deal was that there was no way I could avoid him, and I was pretty sure that there was going to be no way to avoid the fact that I’d held his dick in my hand, either.

* * *

I lied.

Apparently, it was super easy to avoid Bram.

To be fair, I wasn’t sure if I was avoiding him or he was avoiding me or we were both avoiding each other—but I’d barely seen him since the day in my kitchen when I’d pretty much kicked him out.

It had been almost four weeks. When we had family dinners, he was quiet. Not that that was unusual for Bram, but for obvious reasons, I noticed it more. He didn’t talk directly to me, and all signs of our ongoing verbal warfare had disappeared.

I knew that Trevor suspected something. Maybe Liz and Ellie, too, but no one said anything. They just watched us closely as we orbited each other, never getting close enough to actually interact. It drove me nuts. He needed to act normal if we were ever going to put that night behind us without alerting the whole family that we’d bumped uglies in the back of my Toyota.

I was lying.

I needed to get my shit together. Me.

Our dynamic was practically set in stone. I made the first comment. Always. I’d say something, then Bram would say something back, and then we’d trade jabs for as long as we were together.

But for the life of me, I couldn’t give him shit. I just couldn’t. I’d open my mouth to make some comment, and I’d snap it shut again at the memory of him crawling into bed behind me. I’d like to think that I could have moved past the fantastic sex, but it was the caring that shut me up quicker than a republican during a gay sex scandal. I’d look at him, remembering his soft words in my ear, and I just couldn’t make myself antagonize him.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Aunt Ellie said quietly as we sat down at another Friday night dinner. “Everything okay?”

“Yup,” I chirped, trying not to wince or look at Bram. They were going to know. I’d gotten through three weeks of family dinners, and I felt like, at any moment, the tension in my limbs was finally going to snap, and I’d stand up from the table and tell them that I’d fucked grumpy Bram on a side street in downtown Portland.

“Feeling okay?” she murmured, passing me a bowl of biscuits.

“Yeah. Went to the doctor yesterday and I’m all healed up. She said to take it easy for a while longer but I’m mostly back to normal now,” I replied quietly, passing the bowl to Trevor on my left.

“Really? That seems fast,” Ellie said, giving me a small smile as I shrugged. “Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

She leaned over and patted my leg a couple times before getting back to her dinner, and I was reminded of the fact that Ellie had never been able to carry a baby, either. I wasn’t sure what the problem had been, and I’d never felt it was my place to ask. She and Mike had eventually become foster parents and adopted Trevor and Henry, but I wondered if she’d ever had regrets.

I shook myself out of those thoughts. Ellie hadn’t had a choice. I knew that much. Our situations weren’t the same.

“Two more weeks,” Liz sang out across the table, diverting my attention. She rubbed her hands together in glee. “I can’t wait to hold my grandbabies.”