Instead he grabbed the closest twelve pack of hamburger buns and one of hot dog buns and headed to the next aisle. Those were the only kind of buns he had any business letting himself be distracted by. He was a father for crying out loud, not some single guy out treating the natural grocery store like his own personal pickup joint. Reflexively, he rubbed his ring with the side of his pinky, making it spin on his ring finger. Yeah. No more looking.
“Apollo! How are you?” Bridget from down the street almost ran her cart into his as he navigated the aisles. Her red-haired toddler waved at him from the basket.
Hell. He knew he should have brought at least one of the girls shopping. Then Bridget could have focused on the kids, and not his least favorite question in the universe.
“Hanging in there.” Apollo gave her a practiced a smile. “Good” would be a lie and no one wanted to hear “same as yesterday,” which was closer to the truth. But what the Bridgets of the world all wanted to hear was that Apollo was moving on—like time was the magic cure for the hole in his heart. “Having some people over for a barbecue later. Apologies if anyone parks in front of your place.”
“Oh, no worries.” Bridget patted his arm. “Having friends is so important.”
“Yeah, it is,” Apollo agreed because Bridget was a nice person, but inwardly his teeth gnashed together. He was so tired of well-meaning people telling him what was good for him when not a damn one of their suggestions would bring Neal back. “I better get on with my list.”
“You do that. And be sure and let us know if you need anything.”
Apollo nodded. Two years. It had been two years of neighbors and friends stopping him like this, making kind offers, but none of them able to do the one thing he wanted more than anything.
Fuck. Snap out of it, Lieutenant. No one wants your mopey ass around on this sunny May weekend. And it was an absolutely gorgeous day, perfect for playing with the girls outside and kicking back a few beers with his friends. He wasn’t on duty and had three consecutive days off for the first time in a long time. No sense dwelling on sad shit. Time to get stuff done.
Find something else to focus on.
Like that perfect ass?
No. Absolutely not that. Like...pickles. Lots and lots of pickles.
He saw Mr. Perfect Butt again in the juice aisle, and it was damn hard to keep his resolution to stick to shopping. The guy was model cute—curly hair falling just so over his forehead, sparkling eyes, chiseled jaw, and a tight T-shirt advertising a British soccer team showing off a defined chest and tight stomach. The guy smiled at him again and looked like he might want to speak, so Apollo grabbed the juice boxes for the girls and got out of there like he’d just launched a flash bang in the guy’s direction.
At the checkout, Mr. Perfect Butt was ahead of him in the only line that seemed to be moving. Apollo very carefully did not look at his butt again and busied himself grabbing some gum and trying to give off “don’t talk to me” vibes.
But those vibes seemed to be an utter failure as the guy turned, offering another movie-star-worthy grin. “You want to go first?” His voice was husky, like every word was a secret.
“I’m good,” Apollo said.
The man nodded, shy smile teasing the edges of his mouth, making his blue eyes dance. “You know—”
“ID please.” The cashier interrupted whatever flirtation the guy had planned as his six pack of beer went across the scanner.
“Oh, yeah.” A faint red flush spread up the guy’s neck. Oh hell. He wasn’t just younger than Apollo. He was a kid. A kid who still got carded, and rightfully so with that baby face. What the hell had Apollo been thinking, admiring his body?
Apollo focused on unloading his own groceries, making neat rows for the cashier, and making sure the buns wouldn’t get squished.
Buns. Nope. Not going there. The kid hung around after paying for his groceries, mouth moving as if he were debating speaking, but Apollo kept his attention squarely on the cashier.
No more looking. Remember who—what—you are now. When he finally looked up, perfect butt guy was gone, and if Apollo felt a twinge of regret for being a bit on the rude side, he squashed it quickly. Wasn’t like he’d ever see the guy again anyway.
*
“No way.” Apollo turned away from the grill to face his best friend who looked sane despite the crazy-making words that had just come out of his mouth. “No way is your little brother staying here for the summer. Last thing I need is another kid around here.” He gestured at the kid toys scattered all about the small patio.
“He’s not exactly a kid anymore.” Not dropping the topic, Dustin lowered himself into the chair closest to the grill. Even off duty in sunglasses and cargo shorts, Dustin carried himself like the SEAL lieutenant he was, and his massive muscular frame made the chair groan. He kicked idly at a ball in front of the chair.
“He’s what—eighteen now? That’s still a kid.”
“Wrong. He’s twenty-three. Just graduated from U of O. With honors.” Dustin’s voice was filled with big brother pride. Like Apollo, he might have more than a decade on Dylan, but that had never stopped Dustin from doting on the youngest of his siblings.
“Twenty-three?” Apollo scrubbed at his jaw. “It seems like just yesterday he was fifteen—”
“And following us around with that puppy crush on you. I remember.” Dustin laughed. “But trust me. He’s over that. I mean I’m pretty sure he wept when you got married, but he hasn’t asked me about you in years. Not like he used to.”
This was hardly reassuring. Apollo remembered all too well the gangly teen with bad skin and crazy hair who had trailed after them the week that he and Dustin had visited Dustin’s hometown of Eugene, Oregon. Nice kid, a little too serious what with his probing questions and all, but he’d also been a surprisingly good listener for fifteen.
“Is it true? Dustin said...you’re...like me?” Dylan looked up from the board game he was setting up, his shy eyes considering Apollo carefully. Man, this kid was something else. Apollo sure wouldn’t have had the balls to ask a near stranger about his sexuality at his age. Hell, he was still figuring himself out back then, not announcing it to the family over pizza like Dylan apparently had.
“You know about ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell,’ right?” Apollo straightened the haphazard stacks of cards.
“Yeah. Mom says it’s going to be repealed really soon.”
“Well it’s not yet. So yeah, I’m gay, but I’m also not exactly out. I’m going to trust you not to say anything to Dustin’s other friends, right?”
“Of course. But, man that must suck.” Dylan’s voice held far more empathy than Apollo would have thought possible from a fifteen-year-old. “So Dustin’s the only one who knows?”
“Dustin and a few other close friends, but yeah, mostly I just keep my head down, do my job.”
“What are you going to do when you meet someone?” Dylan sounded way too interested in the answer.