Page 72 of Colin

The knot in Colin’s stomach twisted tighter. “Oh.”

It hurt. God, how could it still hurt after a decade sitting with her loss? Colin could fool himself sometimes, pretend it hadalways been just him and his father. But that wasn’t true. There had been three of them, once. They’d even been happy.

And then, after a long, protracted illness, she’d been gone, and it had all changed. Colin had stopped sleeping. For a long time, his dad had stopped talking. Things had been quiet and sad, and that atmosphere had rubbed off on him.He’dbeen quiet and sad, all through high school, too gloomy for any of his old friends, and what new friends he’d made had always felt…superficial. Even with Jamie, it had been hard to let him in fully.

That was why Colin had been so surprised when Derek had shown interest in him. And maybe why he’d let Derek mess with his head, in the end—he just hadn’t had it in himself to expect anything better.

And then, when Derek had crushed his stupid, hopeful heart, Colin couldn’t get out of Tucson fast enough. He’d wanted to leave all those bad memories behind. Start fresh.

His dad started rifling through the photos. “You look tired today, bubba. Thought you’d been sleeping a little better lately.”

Colin cleared his throat, trying to speak around the lump in it. “I have. I had a friend come to visit last night. Flew in on a red-eye.”

“A friend?” His dad looked up, sounding way too excited by the news.

“I’ve told you about him. Jay.”

“Jay’s here?” It was like Colin had just told him a celebrity was in town. “Am I going to get to meet him?”

“He’d love that. Maybe—maybe tomorrow.”

Today he’s going to be busy putting a vampire kidnapper in the ground.

His dad was sorting the photos into little piles in his lap now. Colin still couldn’t bring himself to look. They didn’t have a lot of pictures of her in the house, and the ones they did, he’d become immune to. These would be a fresh hurt to bear.

“I’m so proud of you, bubba,” his dad said, placing another photo in its rightful pile. “You’ve really been putting yourself out there. Finding a place to live. Seeing Jamie again.” He paused, and Colin could swear the tips of his ear pinked. “Those two young men you’ve been spending time with. I know it’s…hard for you, to let people in.” He sighed. “Maybe I should have pushed for therapy, after your mother passed.”

“You think it’s because of Mom? Me being…prickly?”

His dad looked up from his photos. His eyes were kind. They always were. “I think, for whatever reason, you have a hard time believing people will stay.” He held up a photo—Colin’s mother, impossibly young, smiling at something off camera. “God, I miss her.”

They sat in a long silence, staring at that photo. Colin glanced at his dad, at the love in his eyes, even now, even after a decade without her. “How did you know, with Mom?” he asked. “How did you know it was going to last?”

His dad didn’t even hesitate. “Love, loyalty, and acceptance.” He spouted off the words like he’d been keeping them there, just out of reach, waiting for Colin to ask for them. “There were other things too.” He smiled at the photo. “We made each other laugh something fierce. But, ultimately, what made it last…love, loyalty, and acceptance. We were a team.”

And when his mom had died, his dad had passed all that love, loyalty, and acceptance onto Colin. And Colin had moved away without a thought, too eager to get out of Tucson and leave every single painful memory behind.

He swallowed with a dry throat. “Hey, Dad,” he said, keeping his tone light. “Did I tell you I found a way to live forever?”

His dad had started rifling through the photos again. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. You interested?”

“Psh.” His dad pursed his lips in distaste. “Why would I want that? I’ve got my sweetheart waiting for me on the other side.”

“You believe that?” Colin looked at the photo of her in his hands. He didn’t even remember taking it. “That Mom’s waiting for you?”

“Of course I do. There are certain bonds that can’t be broken. You just have to have a little faith.”

Having faith wasn’t Colin’s strong suit. But maybe he could work on that. Maybe it was like an underused muscle, and he just needed to put in a little effort. He tucked the photo of his mom into his pocket. He already knew his dad wouldn’t mind. “Should I fix us some lunch?”

“You go ahead.”

In the kitchen, making sandwiches for the two of them, he couldn’t get the words out of his head.

Love, loyalty, and acceptance.

Fox and Dane knew about those things. They’d proven it with their bond to each other, well before they’d even met Colin. They knew about love that had nothing to do with getting their dicks wet. Love that was about being there for each other, day in and day out. They knew about loyalty, having each other’s backs against the assholes of the world, whether human or otherwise. And they knew about acceptance, about the wounds that could be left when it was withheld.

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