Page 48 of Steady Stroke
Emmett stared blankly at his cousin, who stood in the kitchen entrance, arms crossed and scowling. He’d never seen Adrian so openly hostile toward anyone, least of all his own mother.
“Come on, Mom,” he said. “You barely know that guy.” Adrian jerked his head at Lincoln. “You’re gonna trust him to be alone in your bar, around your booze?”
“He’ll hardly be alone,” she replied, a sharp edge to her tone. “Emmett will be with him at all times, and perhaps I don’t know Lincoln well, but I know people. And I trust my instincts. I don’t see Lincoln betraying my trust and throwing wild parties midday.”
Adrian didn’t look mollified, only more defiant.
Emmett glanced at Lincoln, who was glaring at Adrian. He hated the idea of Lincoln and Adrian at odds with each other, but until he figured out the source of Adrian’s hostility toward Lincoln, he couldn’t fix it.
“Thank you for the offer to use your club, Beatrice,” Lincoln said. “If Emmett agrees, I’d like to take you up on it.”
Adrian’s glare shifted to Emmett. Part of Emmett instinctively wanted to back down simply to keep the peace. Adrian reminded him so much of the high school bullies he’d worked hard to avoid, and he didn’t like thinking his cousin might lash out at him. But this wasn’t about their relationship, tenuous as it was. This was about Lincoln’s dream of playing for a crowd again.
This was about Lincoln getting his life back.
“I’d love to help.” Emmett turned away from Adrian with more outward confidence than he felt inside, and smiled at his aunt. “This is so generous of you. Thank you.”
“No need.” Aunt Beatrice grinned. “I understand a person’s love of something, and I more than understand the loss of a dream. You deserve this, Lincoln.”
Adrian sputtered and stormed out.
“What is his problem with me?” Lincoln asked.
Aunt Beatrice glanced at the empty doorway. “I have no idea. Adrian’s been volatile lately, and I’m starting to worry. He’s not being secretive, so I don’t think it’s drugs, but . . . I don’t know. We aren’t as close as we used to be.”
“His father isn’t around?”
Emmett flinched.
“No, dear, Adrian’s father died when Adrian was five years old.” She sighed heavily.
“Shit, I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right, it was ages ago.” Her clouded expression brightened. “So when do you want to start practicing at the club? If you like, I’ll go in with you the first time, so I can show you both how to use the light board and sound system.”
“You don’t have to go out of your way. I’m sure I canfigure it out.” He’d been on or around enough stages in his lifetime. “Is tomorrow too soon to start?”
“Not at all. I’ll make sure to get an extra key made for you boys.”
“Thank you.”
Aunt Beatrice wandered out of the kitchen with her half-eaten slice of pizza.
As hungry as Emmett was, he didn’t reach for a piece of his own. He watched Lincoln eat, mesmerized by how something as simple as pizza could look sensual in Lincoln’s mouth, while a small portion of his brain still worried over Adrian. Emmett wanted Lincoln in his life so badly he ached with it, and he didn’t want Adrian’s hostility to come between them.
“I’ll talk to Adrian later,” Emmett said. “I don’t know why he doesn’t seem to like you.”
Lincoln shrugged as he reached for a second slice. “Fuck if I know. I never even met him before today.”
“If it helps, he doesn’t like me much anymore, either. I mean, we’ve never been best friends, or anything, but up until last summer we were, you know, friendly. Then he got super distant, like I offended him or something.” Phantom aches in his left leg made him cringe.
“Whatever’s up his ass is his problem, not yours.”
“I suppose.”
“Forget him. Let’s focus on the positive here. You and me, together every day.”
Emmett laughed. “You’re going to get sick of me.”
