Page 70 of Bro Code

He got up and went to the bathroom to clean up. When he came back he swiped back to messages and sent, Thanks. That was sexy

Louis sent a winking emoji blowing a kiss. You liked it?

Yes.

Me too.

Riley smiled, rolling onto his side and pulling the sheet back up. Miss you.

His stomach dipped with nervousness as he sent that, and he lay there gripping the phone.

Louis sent back, Tu me manques aussi, mon amor.

Riley frowned as he tried to sound it out. He’d never understood French. Too many letters. And you could never even be sure what sound they were supposed to be making. What was that s doing there at the end of that one word?

Maybe he should try and learn some though? For Louis? That would be a nice thing to do. Plus, then they could do dirty talk in French – or he’d at least be able to understand what Louis was moaning when he got so horny he forgot how to speak English.

Eventually, he gave up trying to sound the words out and just texted back.

What does that mean?

The three dots bubbled. Miss you too, my love.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Louis

Waking up in his old room was seriously disorienting. But not unpleasant. It was already warm and the air was sticky, but a breeze came through the window and outside he could hear distant church bells. It was Sunday.

He got up and found Chloé in the kitchen, making coffee. Barefoot in a ratty pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt, her hair under a pink silk scarf. She poured him a cup and they took their mugs to the back porch and drank side by side in the sun, watching the sea.

“Sorry about last night,” said Chloé.

Louis sipped his coffee. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Papa shouldn’t’ve said any of that.”

“Well. At least he was here, I guess.”

Dad had come home just before they all sat down to dinner, and even gruffly said Hello to Louis – what an honor! He chimed in with a couple of one-word comments as Louis, Manman and Chloé caught up. Mom didn’t want to talk about anything to do with her diagnosis. She wanted to complain about the women she played dominoes with and tell Louis how expensive food was getting at the supermarket. Chloé asked about Montreal. It was going okay until things came around to Louis’ job.

Dad had seen the brawl in the news. According to him, it wasn’t an acceptable way for men to behave in public, and he didn’t know why Louis had to associate himself with that. Louis had explained that fighting was allowed in hockey, although he admitted things had gotten out of hand.

“Yes, because of the gays,” his dad agreed, “which is exactly why they shouldn’t go around waving it in people’s faces.”

Things had escalated from there.

Chloé reached into an empty flowerpot and retrieved a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. She cupped her hands and lit one, dragged on it, then held it out to him.

Louis stared at it. “No? Thank you? Are you serious?”

She lifted one shoulder, blowing smoke and turning back to the sea. “I’m at the bar til two in the morning. Everyone does it.”

“And Mom and Dad are fine with that?”

“They’re at church.” She ashed over the edge of the balcony into the bushes below. “Anyway, fuck Papa.”

Louis sipped his coffee.