Worlds Collide (Fan Service #6)

21. CJ

TWENTY-ONE

CJ

I wake up the next day knowing I need to go talk to Adam. Of course I’m going to make him apologize to me, but I shouldn’t have thrown his seemingly perfect life in his face.

It’s not his fault he has the most amazing parents in the world and that he’s gotten everything he’s ever wanted in life—because he’s worked hard. Really fucking hard.

I do hope he stops saying Wolf is a bad person because he’s an alcoholic, though. That shit has to stop if we ever get a chance to have a normal conversation ever again.

And if that happens and I lose my best friend, my brother, then whatever becomes of me isn’t something I want to think about.

Carter is nowhere to be found when I get down to the kitchen, and I know I need to talk to him too before he flies off the handle when it comes to Hawk—we didn’t really finish that conversation and it worries me.

I don’t want Carter calling him—or Derek—and starting a fight where no one will win. Because this isn’t about Hawk, or Carter, or Derek. Hell, it’s not even about me or Wolf.

Am I hurt over how Hawk talked to me?

Of course I am, but from all I know about him, he only did it because he’s scared, and I really hope Carter and Adam will know this as well.

And if nothing else, I really hope they keep their traps shut so Derek doesn’t lose his shit on all of us.

Yes, I’m scared of the six-foot-six wall of muscle. Sue me.

He’s fiercely protective of Hawk and I’d say he’s protective over Wolf too. I’m pretty sure things have changed now though, and I don’t want all of that making things worse for Wolf... wherever he is and whatever he’s doing.

With all of that in mind, I walk out of the house and straight to Theo’s bakery. If there’s one person who I trust to talk to about all of this it’s him, but I know he’s probably busy, so if he doesn’t have time to see me, then luckily, Sebas’ gallery is right next door and Carter just so happens to work there.

I see Oscar, Theo’s huge gray Great Dane, and Tony, Mike’s even bigger Tibetan Mastiff, chilling in the doggy area of the bakery as soon as I come in, since it’s pretty hard to miss them. But before I go say hi to the two sweethearts, I go over to the counter—I need coffee.

Casey, Theo’s childhood friend who I met at his wedding, is ringing people up today, so at least I know she can recommend something I can use to entice Theo to take a break.

I get two cinnamon rolls—apparently Theo finally perfected his recipe—and two coffees, one black and one with almond milk and sugar, and wait by the dogs while Casey goes to the back to talk to Theo.

It feels like my soul starts to heal over the two minutes I spend getting licked by the dogs, and when Theo comes out, throwing a jacket over his shoulders and grumbling at someone behind him, I feel steadier. Like my world isn’t ending and I need to finish a quest to prevent it.

Theo sends me a rueful smile when he sees me with the dogs and comes over right away.

“How are you?” he asks as I stand. He throws both arms around me and hugs me tight—tighter than normal, which gives me more than a clue.

“How do you know?” I wonder.

“Sebas called me last night after Adam got home.”

“Please tell me no one called Hawk,” I beg unashamedly as I pass him his bagged cinnamon roll and coffee. “Or Derek.”

“No, Sebas calmed Adam down—” I wince, not really a fan of what comes to mind. “And then he called Carter and told him to not do shit unless he wanted to have a very unpleasant work week.”

“I should’ve given Sebas the cinnamon roll,” I mumble, truly amazed at my best friend’s husband.

“You can give him yours,” Theo tells me as he quickly reaches into his bag and pulls out the pastry to take a huge bite.

“No chance, I’m starving,” I confess and do the same .

“Come on, let’s walk around the block before you go next door,” he says and gestures to the door.

“You don’t want to take the dogs?” I ask with longing.

“Sorry, but Mike just left a little while ago and I need a quick walk then to get back to work.”

“Right,” I agree, and then don’t know what else to say while we start to walk. “So, did Sebas tell you everything I told Adam?” I wonder.

“I don’t know, honestly. He gave me the cliff notes, I guess. You’re in love with Wolf.” He whispers the name because it’s a pretty recognizable name. “He relapsed, Wolf had a big fight with Hawk—which isn’t surprising, and I always thought it had to happen at some point.”

“Why did you think that?” I ask, confused.

“Because they never argued. Not really. Siblings fight, they’re mean as fuck to each other, they say terrible things—true things—to your face, and then you just move on. At least, that’s my experience. I’ve seen Wolf and Hawk argue, I guess, but not really. It’s always been more like a... debate,” he settles on. “When you don’t let yourself fight for real with your siblings, then things just keep adding up and eventually it explodes.”

“I wouldn’t know.” The deep longing I feel in that moment is something I thought I’d gotten over a long time ago. Because I thought Adam filled that role for me, the sibling role, but we’ve never fought the way we have over Wolf the last few times we’ve talked.

“Yeah, your parents did you dirty by not giving you a sibling,” Theo says casually.

“You don’t know the half of it,” I tell him, trying to make it lighthearted. There’s no need to get into the whole thing with Theo. At least, not right now.

But deep inside, I can’t help but think that the way I told Wolf everything about my parents is the reason why he drank again.

“Anyway, I know Hawk blames you and he told you it was your fault and that’s about it.”

“Well, all I want now is to get my shit together, but I can’t seem to do that because I’m still suspended from my job.”

“But your job is a very small part of who you are, CJ,” he argues and I stop walking to look at him.

“What do you mean?”

“A lot of things have changed for you recently, and I know what it’s like when you feel like everything’s spinning out of control. I know how scary that is, but I also know that none of the things that are out of your control are going to affect who you are.”

“That’s a good point,” I whisper and keep mulling it over while we walk around the block. Theo stops when we’re back in front of his bakery and smiles at me.

“I hope I helped, at least by telling you Sebas got those two back to their senses.”

“You helped a lot. Thank you.”

“I’m glad. Now come in and get more treats for the guys next door and let me say just one more thing. The reason Adam and Carter lost their heads there for a second is because they love you and they hate seeing you hurting this much.”

“I thought I didn’t look half bad this morning.” I try to joke but it falls flat when faced with Theo’s gentle patience. “I know. I’ll talk to them.”

“Good. And you can be mad at them,” Theo tells me as he starts to walk to the counter. “Especially Adam. You should throw my mother in as an example of a shitty person who’s not an addict.”

I snort and try to disguise it with a cough—not appropriate. “Will, do,” I say simply, and then I get a dozen more cinnamon rolls, because I’m pretty sure I deserve a day of carb loading as hard as I can.

“I’m sorry,” Adam says with his eyes downcast.

“And?” Sebas demands from next to him, arms crossed and one foot tapping impatiently on the white floor of his gallery.

“And I don’t think all addicts are bad people,” my friend mumbles, still not looking up. I bite my lip to keep from laughing. No matter how long I’ve known him, seeing the legendary Adam “the King” Darnell scolded like a disobedient child by his husband is hilarious.

“And?” Sebas repeats with more force behind the word.

“I’ll stop being a—” He stops talking suddenly to throw a pained look at Sebas, who in turn only raises an eyebrow. “A pendejo when it comes to Wolf, or you liking Wolf, or you not telling me every single detail about your life.”

“Good,” Sebas declares with a nod then turns to Carter. “What do you have to say to your friend?”

Carter rolls his eyes. “Look mate, I love you,” he tells Sebas. “But you won’t be pulling me around by the balls like you do this one.” He points at Adam who wisely stays silent.

“Then I’ll pull you by your desire to get out of here before midnight every day for the next month,” Sebas tells him mercilessly. “Now apologize to CJ so we can all get back to our lives.”

Carter sighs and looks me in the eyes. “I’m sorry that I was a bad friend last night and didn’t think about what you wanted.”

“Thank you,” I tell him quickly, hoping we can end this now.

“Okay.” Sebas claps and looks at us one by one. “Now, get out of here and go talk this all out, and this time actually help CJ get his head out of his ass, please.”

“Hey!” I complain. “What do you mean?”

Sebas pins me with those green eyes that have never looked cold to me until now. “You’re not the reason why Wolf relapsed, and you need to stop blaming yourself for every bad thing in the world. You’re also not supposed to save the world, so stop being a martyr and enjoy your fucking life.”

“Merciless,” Adam whispers in wonder while I’m just speechless.

Either he just saved me years in therapy or he’s oversimplifying my life? Coin toss, really. In any case, I don’t have to take all this abuse—yes, I’m referring to my friend being unashamedly honest as abuse—I grab the still-full box from the bakery, with its lovely MP sticker holding it closed, and start walking out.

“Those are mine,” he demands.

“No they’re not,” I tell him and just keep walking. “You guys coming?” I ask Carter and Adam. They look at the box and nod then walk out of there as fast as they can. Sebas shakes his head but I see him smiling before the glass door closes behind me.

“So, what are you going to do until it’s time to get back to work?” Adam asks after he finishes his cinnamon roll, then licks his fingers.

“I don’t know,” I tell him honestly. “I feel like I should do something productive, but maybe I should just head back home, lie low for a while and like Sebas said, enjoy life.”

“California’s a pretty good place to enjoy life,” Carter agrees, and raises his can of Coke as if he’s toasting me.

“It is,” I agree.

“You can stay a week or two,” Adam says looking over the box of pastries, trying to disguise his neediness with a casual tone. It’s not gonna work with me, I know him too well.

“And what would I do for one or two weeks?” I ask, faking cluelessness.

He looks up sharply, and I just smile at him until he sighs and sits back on the couch in my living room where he made me have a screaming match with him yesterday.

“I have two home games back-to-back, so you can hang out with me and Carter, asshole, and help me design the nursery. Sebas told me it’s my job,” he grumbles. “And that I better not butcher the room.”

“You finally found a place in the city?” I ask, excited. “And do you know if it’s a boy or a girl? Oh, and how is Josie doing?”

“Took you a while,” he mutters at me.

“I’ve been a little distracted. Now tell me all about it,” I demand, and see Carter smiling happily at us. I guess he knows all of this already.

“Yes, we did find a place just a few blocks from here, and it’s under construction right now since Sebas didn’t want that many walls and he wanted a few changes to the top floor where his studio will be. But the second floor, where our bedroom is—and where the nursery is as well—is fine and we can go in and do whatever we want to it. No, we haven’t found out if it’s a boy or a girl but we’ve picked out names for either. Josie’s finally out of the puke-your-heart-out-at-all-times-of-the-day part of the pregnancy, so she’s happy enough. Sebas on the other hand, is a wreck most of the time because our place isn’t ready and Josie is supposed to fly over before Christmas to stay here until the due date.” He takes a huge breath after he’s done answering all my questions.

“It’s so weird that you’re going to be a dad,” I muse, and backtrack when I see Adam’s body tense all over. “But you’re going to be an awesome dad. You’ve got the best examples ever,” I tell him, believing every word wholeheartedly.

“Thanks,” he tells me quietly.

“Okay, so I guess I’m staying for a couple of weeks.”

“Fuck yeah,” Carter cheers.

“And you?” I ask him. “Are you finally going to finish that masters of yours?”

He groans and rubs his face harshly with both hands. “Don’t even bring it up,” he practically begs .

“What’s wrong?”

“They’re giving him shit because he’s taking so few classes every semester,” Adam explains, and I have to sigh. I understand it has to be hard for Carter. He wants to take his time and figure himself out.

And that’s something I never thought he’d have to do when we graduated college more than six years ago, but life’s been rough for Carter ever since. I mean, his parents discovered he’d been lying his ass off about his major on graduation day, and then they died in a tragic accident the very next day on the other side of the world ... That shit hit Carter hard—obviously.

It changed everything for him.

It took us years to convince him to move to New York, to help out Sebas with his gallery and finally get his masters in art curating, but even when he got here it didn’t suddenly fix everything. It still hasn’t. The dedicated, studious, and sometimes too-serious man he was back then doesn’t exist anymore.

Now he’s a guy who just lives day by day and takes one class at a time. I know for a fact he does want the masters. He does want to find out where he fits in the world, and we’ll always be here to help him however we can, but there’s not much I can do to help him here.

“Have you talked to your advisor?” I wonder. “About why you want to take the whole thing one class at a time,” I clarify.

“No,” he admits quietly.

“Then maybe you should,” I say as gently as I can.

“I don’t need his pity,” he spits out and Adam sighs loudly.

“It’s not for pity. It’s just to explain why you’re taking your time and why you need to do things your way. You try that or you give up and take all the final classes next semester,” Adam tells him mercilessly. I’d bet anything they’ve had this conversation more than once and that’s why my best friend is all out of patience.

I keep quiet though, and wait for Carter to give in, which thankfully, doesn’t take too long.

“I’ll talk to him this week, now can we please move on? How about we go get Sebas, Mike, and Theo and go out for a bite to celebrate CJ staying around?” he asks as he stands.

“We just stuffed our faces with cinnamon rolls,” I point out.

“So? That was the appetizer, come on.”

Two Weeks Later

I take one step out of the elevator of my apartment building in LA, a suitcase in each hand, and everything inside me freezes at the sight in front of me. Sitting on the floor in front of my apartment is the last person I ever thought would be here.

“Hawk,” I whisper. He looks up at me with fear in his eyes and struggles his way to standing.

“Hey,” he says quietly.

“How long have you been out here?” I wonder.

“Oh,” he says absentmindedly as he swats at his jeans—I don’t know why they’re not dirty or anything. “A little while.”

“Gracie’s probably at work,” I point out.

“Yeah, I know.” He swallows hard and looks at me. “Sebas called and told me you were getting in today, and I wanted to apologize in person.” He stands straight and looks so adorably determined, that I can’t help but deflate.

“You were just scared?—”

“I was,” he agrees and nods once. “But that doesn’t excuse the fact that I was awful to you and you didn’t deserve to hear any of the things I said.”

“Thank you,” I whisper. “Would you like to come in? Maybe eat something or lie down?” The floor must’ve been uncomfortable and it’s two in the fucking morning.

“I’d love to get something to eat, yeah.”

“You got it,” I tell him and move to open the door. “We have a guest bedroom, you can stay over.”

“I can just—” He points at the elevator.

“No,” I interrupt him. “You’re tired and hungry and so am I, so let’s just eat and we can talk in the?—”

“Wolfie went to rehab,” he blurts. I freeze with the door half-opened and Hawk just sighs and closes his eyes for a long moment. Then he opens them and the similarity to Wolf’s eyes makes my heart fucking stop—which is something that, as a doctor, I know doesn’t happen, but it could be arrhythmia. “So much has happened, CJ, and I think I need to tell you.”