Page 71 of Hidden Plays
He nodded against my shoulder. In a soft voice, he said, “Love you.”
My heart almost burst. “Love you too, babe.” With another squeeze, I released him and slapped his round ass, wrapped tightly in my pajamas. “Let’s eat.”
He grabbed my hand, guiding me from the room and into the kitchen, where the guys sat around a table piled high with pancakes, bacon, plates and cutlery.
“It's about time you two came out.” Eli offered a warm grin.
Malik turned in a chair, his arm resting across the rounded back. “Damn, Holden, don’t bend over or you might split those pants.”
“Quiet, Malik.” I scoffed, rubbing Holden’s ass cheek. “He looks damn good in my clothes.”
Pinching his index finger and thumb together, Casey said, “Just a little on the tight side.”
With a huff, Holden said, “Okay, I’m going?—”
“Nope, you’re not putting your jeans back on.” I tugged on his arm and hauled him to the table. “Sit.” I pointed to one of the two free chairs. We had five guys in the house, so only had a full table when Cooper had eaten here. That was before he’d started dating Myles.
“Fine.” Exhaling a breath, Holden dropped into a chair. “Looks good. Did you cook all this, Eli?”
“I did.” Eli pushed a plate of pancakes toward Holden.
I sat on the chair next to Holden. “Eli likes to cook a bigbreakfast on game day.” I glanced at Eli. “And sometimes we’re lucky enough to get it on Sunday too.”
“If we win. I cook again if we win. It’s sort of an incentive.” Eli’s gaze travelled across the table. “Right, guys?”
“Right.” Tex stuffed pancakes into his mouth.
“How was the Yucca Tap Room last night? Did you guys stay to hear the band at all?” Casey ate a bite of bacon.
I poured orange juice into Holden’s glass from a bottle on the table. “I, uh, met Holden’s brother last night.”
With his eyes growing wide, Casey said, “Shit, so he showed up?”
Holden winced. “Yeah, he did.” He piled some pancakes onto his plate. “I don’t know how much JJ told you about him, but he’s a drunk and abuses substances.” His lips tensed.
“I didn’t say much, just that he has a habit of being a no show.” This was Holden’s story to tell, not mine. I set pancakes and bacon on my plate and poured syrup over them.
“So, was he drunk?” Knitting his brows, Eli held a forkful of pancakes to his mouth.
With a nod, Holden cut into his pancakes with his fork and said, “Yeah. He reeked of booze when he got there and in what, an hour? He’d downed two shots of whiskey and two beers.”
“He was working on his third round when we left.” I gave each of the guys a knowing look. Had any of them dealt with an addicted family member? Surely someone had. It was so common.
“Shit, that sucks, Holden.” Malik shifted in his chair. “I have a cousin like that. The dude always ends up stumbling and slurring at family gatherings.”
“Yeah?” Holden ate some bacon. “But he shows up.”
“Sometimes he doesn’t. If he doesn’t, we know he’s on a bender.” Malik, sitting next to Holden, patted his shoulder. “My family has been talking about a rehab intervention for years now, but I think they’re scared.”
“Of what?” Holden set his fork on his plate and picked up his juice.
“Of his saying no. With an intervention, the addict must agree to it or risk losing all contact with his family.” Malik dipped his head. “They’re scared if they let him go, he’ll die.”
“He still might die, especially if they keep enabling him.” Wiping his mouth with a napkin, Eli focused on Holden. “An addict needs to hit bottom before they get help, and a lot of times, that means losing everyone close to them.”
Holden hung his head. “I know. I’ve Googled some of this. Knowing what to do is just so damn hard.”
Wrapping an arm around Holden’s shoulders, I kissed his cheek. “Has your family ever talked about an intervention for him?” This conversation was dragging him down again.
