And just like that, the warmth fled from Apollo, who looked away, the walls that shielded him from his grief firmly back in place. Pat hadn’t meant to be hurtful—the woman didn’t really have a spiteful bone in her small body, but even so, her words pierced Dylan’s bubble of happiness.
The girls were always going to be Apollo’s and Neal’s, and he was always going to be an outsider on this little family. And even knowing that, he was still hungry for more of that pride and affection from Apollo.
You’re so fucked. He took a deep breath, made sure his voice was pleasant and light when he said, “The gym is down that hall. Need me to show you?”
“Nah, we’re good.” Apollo’s eyes met Dylan’s for an instant before he ushered his mothers-in-law down the hall, his look indecipherable—part pride maybe, part regret, and possibly part encouragement, but for what, Dylan couldn’t be sure. Yeah, they were well and truly overdue for the talk Dylan dreaded. But that would have to wait. Right then, the show had to go on.
*
Apollo shifted on the hard metal folding chair in the gym. He was going to need some serious hot tub time to loosen up his back muscles—maybe with Dylan, which was a nice thought. Funny how before Dylan he’d dreaded the hours of emptiness after the girls went to bed, but now he counted down to bedtime, anticipating when he’d next be alone with Dylan. Next to him, Marilyn and Pat were rapt in their attention on the front of the room where all the kids were clustered together, capes flapping and superhero masks drooping, and all together rather adorable. But even though Apollo knew his focus should be on the girls, his eyes kept drifting over to Dylan, who stood off to the side, microphone in hand.
“And so—say it with me—anyone can be a superhero.” Dylan coached the kids, queuing up what Apollo assumed was the final musical number, the kids singing along with a tinny recording of some recent pop song about finding happiness. The kids zoomed around, pretend flying as the song came to a close.
Somehow Dylan had given each of the kids at least one speaking line, and even their dancing seemed designed to make sure that every kid got a few moments out front where their family could get a good photo. He was a genius for stuff like that—making sure things were fair for everyone. The same weird pride Apollo had felt all afternoon bloomed again, an unfamiliar yet not unpleasant tightness in his chest.
My guy’s pretty awesome. But of course Dylan wasn’t his guy. Couldn’t be and Apollo might as well be dreaming about the fairy castle mural on the gym wall as imagining that Dylan would care how proud Apollo was. Dylan radiated self-confidence up there in front of the room. He didn’t need bolstering, not the way Neal had—
Neal.
Apollo hadn’t thought about him the whole performance, which was unusual as normally at an event like this he couldn’t get Neal off his mind, thinking about how much Neal would like seeing the girls, how much he was missing. He’d felt a pang when Pat had mentioned him back at the checkin, but that had quickly evaporated in the face of joy at seeing the girls so happy and the distraction of Dylan.
And God, he was positively addicted to the distraction that was Dylan. The past two weeks had been hell at work with the admiral coming down hard about a training exercise that was due to start that morning, and coming home to Dylan and sharing time with him—and, okay, yes, the sex too—was the best part of Apollo’s day. Dylan made him feel more grounded, more able to deal with the pressures of work, more able to cope with the demands of the girls. It probably wasn’t the healthiest to think of Dylan as his human stress ball, but that’s exactly what he was for Apollo.
“My. Such a crush of people.” Pat touched Apollo’s arm, getting his attention away from his thoughts of Dylan. At the front of the room, it was indeed chaos as parents claimed kids and other children hopped around. Everyone seemed to want a piece of Dylan as he had a large circle of smiling parents vying for his attention.
“Do you think we should wait with you? Or maybe we should catch up later?” As always, Marilyn was protective of Pat’s nervousness around crowds.
“Why don’t you go on? I’ll text you later and maybe we can do dinner, and then you can show the girls all the pictures you took.” Apollo wasn’t any too eager to fight through the crowd himself, but on his own he could hang back, survey the pandemonium the way he would a training exercise. And he also didn’t have to worry about what Pat and Marilyn might guess at between him and Dylan. He’d barely restrained himself from hugging Dylan when he’d arrived, and lord, that would have been all sorts of awful.
You still wanted it, in-law horror and all. Yeah, he had, and the guilt only added to the sludge of emotions in his gut.
Finally, the crowd started to dissipate, parents and kids heading back down the hall to check out with the staffers manning the front desk. His twins were still twirling around with a few friends up front when Apollo stepped forward.
“Baba! I waved at you!” Chloe grabbed his hand.
“I saw.” Apollo smiled at her.
“You guys did great.” Dylan stepped closer to them. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Me too.” Apollo’s throat was thick, and despite his better judgment, he tried to tell Dylan with his eyes that he meant him too. Chloe scampered away, back to playing with her sister and friend, and still his and Dylan’s eyes held. “The play was great.”
“It was. Such a success!” The director, a woman with a long gray ponytail, came up to them. “And I didn’t catch you earlier, but I understand congratulations are in order?”
“Pardon?” Apollo’s heart sped up. What had Dylan told this woman about them? Did he really think—
“Dylan’s been named assistant director at one of the Boys and Girls club locations for the upcoming school year. I know many of our families are going to be thrilled at this news. They’ll probably see enrollments increase just because he’s there.”
“They will?” Apollo blinked, trying to digest this news. Years of military service had him schooling his expression and his tone, even as his head swam.
“Oh, of course. Dylan’s our most popular staffer.” The woman beamed, and Apollo was torn between pride for Dylan and wanting to throttle the guy for keeping this news a secret. “I should probably head back to the front, but it was nice seeing you, Lieutenant. So glad you got time off to come.”
Apollo made a noise that he hoped passed for agreement.
She laughed, a sound far too light for the heaviness in Apollo’s limbs. “Dylan, Allie and I will handle lock-up if you want to go with the girls.”
For his part, Dylan looked like he was trying not to hurl, as green as a newbie before jump training, and not meeting Apollo’s eyes. Yeah, he knew he’d fucked up, but Apollo couldn’t muster up much sympathy. “Thanks,” he croaked as the director walked away.
Apollo waited until she was out of earshot before saying, “So. A job for the fall, huh?”