Page 17 of Friendly Skies
“I didn’t do anything. I just got tired of him being such an asshole.”
Darius stepped back from him and shook his head. “You have no idea how good you are with people, do you?”
“Just not good enoughforthem,” Luis said and hated the stricken look that crept across Darius’ face.
“Chico, that man last night wasn’t good enough foryou, not the other way around.” Darius leaned down and placed a soft kiss on Luis’ cheek, then returned to the dressing room to change.
“I wasn’t talking about him,” Luis said under his breath as he did likewise.
They took a break for lunch, agreeing on pizza and cocktails, and everything seemed to be going well until Ricky checked his phone. He cursed and put the phone facedown on the table.
“Something wrong?” Luis asked, but Ricky just shook his head and flagged their waiter down to order another drink.
A concerned look passed between Luis and Darius, but Darius shrugged, and Luis knew he was right. They couldn’t force Ricky to share whatever was going on with him, and it was clear he didn’t think he knew them well enough or didn’t trust them with his secrets. Luis was surprised when Ricky agreed to continue shopping rather than catch an Uber home and then outright flabbergasted when Ricky bought a vintage leather bomber-style jacket in a gorgeous gold metallic for two hundred dollars. It was striking and set off his red hair beautifully, making the gold and copper highlights spark like fire.
Luis would have suggested Ricky to wait until he wasn’t buzzed from the cocktails, but he wasn’t going to talk Ricky out of it. Not after seeing the lining. Whoever had priced the jacket didn’t realize what they had, and Luis was almost beside himself with envy that Ricky had found it first. His roommate didn’t have a clue what he was buying, but Luis kept his mouth shut until they were out of the store, and then he practically draggedRicky around the corner and ripped the shopping bag out of his hands.
“What the hell—?”
“Oh, my God. You have no idea what you just bought.” Luis’ hands were trembling as he lifted the jacket up and checked the interior and the label to confirm his suspicions. “It needs some repairs, but my God.” He looked at the other two men. “I’m speechless.”
“Want to clue the rest of us in, chico?” Darius asked.
“This is Jean Paul Gaultier. It’s couture, baby. This jacket may have walked the runway during Paris Fashion Week in 2011, and it probably should have been priced in the low four figures.” He laughed. “They had no clue. You lucky bastard.”
Ricky took the jacket from Luis’ hands and smoothed his own over the leather. “I just liked how it looked.”
“As I said, you are one lucky cabrón. I’m so jealous you saw it first.”
“It’s a cool jacket.” Ricky folded the jacket and put it back in the shopping bag.
Luis put one hand over his heart and held the other one out. “It’s clear you don’t deserve it, so you should give it to me. You know, the person who can really appreciate it.”
“Not on your life,” Ricky said, holding the bag out of reach when Luis pretended to make a grab for it. “And if it goes missing at some point, I’m gonna know exactly where to start looking.”
“Fine. But if you don’t take care of it the way it deserves, I’m going to stage an intervention.”
Ricky tried to scowl at Luis, but he couldn’t stop himself from laughing. Shaking his head, he said, “All right. This thrift store thing is pretty cool. What are we doing next?”
Next was stopping off at his mom’s. He’d warned her he was bringing Darius along as well as one of their roommates, so she was prepared to feed an army when they got there. She herded them into the backyard, and Darius immediately made a beeline for Luis’ dad’s fridge in the garage and brought out bottles of Estrella Jalisco for all of them.
Luis was in heaven. While spending the day with Darius and Ricky had cheered him up, getting fed by his mom was the best thing for his aching heart.
“You both grew up here, right?” Ricky asked, and Darius nodded.
“My house was two over.” Darius lifted his beer to the right. “My parents don’t live there anymore, but it doesn’t matter. This was home.”
“That’s because you were always here,” Luis said. He raised his bottle and clinked it against Darius’.
“What about you?” Darius asked Ricky. “Where did you grow up?”
Ricky took a long pull of his beer before setting the bottle on the picnic table and picking at the label with a fingernail. “Seattle.”
“Holden’s mom lives there,” Luis said, thinking about Greg’s boyfriend.
“Yeah, she lives on Bainbridge Island. I grew up in Redmond. Different sides of the city. Different worlds, really.”
From the way Ricky spoke, Luis could tell it wasn’t something he wanted to talk about and was prepared to change the subject when Ricky surprised him once again.
