to that one place in Connecticut, remember? After the photo shoot thing for one of your sponsors.”
I remembered it. Mostly I remembered the golden glow of his skin in the candlelight and the rosy hue to his cheeks after his third glass of wine. The woman who’d hosted us for the visit had spent the entire time flirting with Markus, and it had given Mikey the giggles. I’d stared at him throughout the entire dinner.
“Do you think you’ll call them?” I asked, worried about his answer. “The Civettis. They seemed serious about wanting to discuss it with you.”
He hid behind another sip of coffee for a few beats. “I mean… it’s tempting. I’ve always wanted to run my own restaurant, and this would be a chance to do it without the financial risk of investing my own money. Honestly, I’ve been saving for a while, but I’ll never have enough to do it the way I really want to. This could be my chance. And I like Aster Valley. I was already daydreaming about turning the lodge into a bed-and-breakfast so… god. Can you imagine?”
“Yes,” I admitted. “You would be amazing at it.”
He made a shooing gesture with his hands. “Stop talking about it. It’s making me nervous. Let’s change the subject.”
Fine by me. I didn’t want to think about him leaving Houston—leaving me. Besides, I wanted to get to know him better now that some of our boundary walls seemed to be coming down.
“Tell me about your dad,” I said, taking another sip of coffee. “And growing up.”
His expression changed to one of confusion. We’d never talked much about our personal stories. “What do you mean?”
I leaned forward and cradled the warm mug in my good hand on the table. “I’ve met your brothers. Hell, I’ve played against Jake. They’re a bunch of corn-fed bruisers. Then there’s you.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know what happened. Ask my mom. A very quiet and tidy interior decorator named Branson lived next door when Mom got pregnant with me, so you can imagine the jokes my dad and brothers have come up with over the years. I actually even kinda look like the guy. Well, mostly because he wore the same kind of glasses I do. But honestly… it was just a fluke, I guess. One of us was bound to like dessert and dick more than pumping iron and…” He looked around. “Another p-word.”
“Did they give you hell about it? When you came out? You said they were protective. That’s good, right?”
I hated to think of him being treated as less than or somehow disappointing. I knew Coach V.’s feelings on what made a successful man, and publishing a cookbook probably didn’t make the cut. The more I pictured Mikey growing up as the black sheep in his family, the more uncomfortable I felt. I started imagining how I’d handle myself the next time I saw Jake on the field.
“My brothers are pretty cool about it, especially now. They try, at least. The only one who’s still weird about me is Eddie.”
He was the one I’d only met once. “Remind me where he is now? Galveston? Works with money or something?”
Mikey shook his head. “Houston. He works as a contracts administrator at the port authority. He’s the one who played center for UT. He’s married to Ashlynn. They met in school. She was a Longhorn cheerleader. It’s all very Friday Night Lights.”
Solo stopped at our table to pour us some ice water before moving down the row of booths with his big water pitcher. The low buzz of conversation from other customers mixed with the clinking of silverware on plates and Pim’s periodic shouts into the kitchen to Bill. It was comfortable and warm, and I felt embraced by the newfound familiarity of the place.
“Why is Eddie weird about you? Is it homophobia or something different?”
He shrugged and used his index finger to move his empty sugar packets under the lip of the little plate holding the creamer pitcher. “Partly. He was always friends with the meanest guys, you know? The ones who took great pleasure in intimidating others. I assumed he’d grow out of it eventually, but then he got the job at the port and seemed to connect to the same type of guys at work that he always had at school. Rough, crass macho guys who don’t think much of men like me.” He inhaled deeply before looking up at me. “He’s the one who’s always asking me why