Aftermath by Bailey Bradford (most important books of all time txt) 📗

* * * *

Inside the motel room, Lee stood by the bed and stared down at the picture in his hand. It was the last one his parents had sent him, and it made him smile even as it wrenched at his heart. Stefan and Darren. The two young men in the picture were smiling, arms over each other’s shoulders, eyes lit with happiness and, yes, love, although he suspected one of the boys seemed to be feeling something other than that best friend-type love.

Lee traced both faces with his fingertips then carefully set the picture on the dresser. He glanced around the room, really seeing it for the first time. A slightly musty odor clung in the air, but the beige carpeting looked clean and the surfaces were dust free, including those horrible red and orange flowered drapes that matched…

“Jesus.” Lee had to rub his eyes after looking at the comforter. It didn’t exactly match, just had the same pattern, and the colors were hot pink and neon yellow. Amazingly enough it didn’t clash with the walls, which someone had had the good sense to paint the same beige as the carpet. Not quite enough blah to counteract the LSD-trip-inspired comforter and blanket, but almost. Lee’s stomach growled, nagging him to eat and distracting him from the ugly decorating.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, stripping down as he walked to the bathroom. “Shower first, sleep, then food.” He started the water running then went back to grab his dop kit so he could shave and brush his teeth once he was cleaned up. A quick glance told him the mirror was not his friend. He looked tired and nappy and old and grumpy.

“Three outta four,” Lee said to his image then stepped in the shower and wondered how pathetic he was when talking to himself was the most frequent conversations he had on a regular basis.

* * * *

Riding in with Severo and Laine hadn’t been so bad, really, Darren mused as he served each of the men a hot cup of coffee. Severo had hopped out of the truck, as lively and talkative at four-thirty in the morning as he was any other time Darren had seen him. And he’d brought coffee, just like he’d promised, then Severo and Laine had both proceeded to help him feed the chickens and gather the eggs.

Red had taken one look at Severo and squawked like his feathers were on fire. Darren had been sort of stunned when the rooster had run off behind the coop, wings flapping with each step. He’d never seen Red run from anything. Severo had just laughed and Laine had grumbled something about not all chickens being dumber than a box of rocks, and that had been the end of most of the conversation. Darren hadn’t known what to say, anyway—it wasn’t as if he was interesting like either of the other men. He was just a guy who waited tables. There wasn’t anything exciting about that.

“Y’all ready to order?”

Darren didn’t bother to write it down. Laine and Severo weren’t fussy, both asking for the breakfast plate with an extra serving of bacon. “I’ll have it out to y’all in a few minutes,” Darren promised then topped off the coffee for everyone at table six before heading to the counter to place the order. He didn’t think much of it when he heard the bells on the door ring—that happened too frequently for him to look over every time someone entered or left during the breakfast rush—but he did notice when that uneasy sensation of being watched crawled over him again.

Darren shrugged it off. It was probably just customers checking out the damage to his face. The knot was about gone, but he still had some spectacular colors decorating his chin. He grabbed a fresh pot of coffee and turned around then very nearly dropped it when he saw the man sitting on a stool only a few feet away.

Despite the differences, Darren recognized Lee instantly. The longer hair only served to offset the man’s sculpted cheekbones, the firm line of his jaw. Mossy green eyes, wide and thickly lashed, the slightly uptilted outer corners—eyes so like Stefan’s, despite the fact Stefan’s eyes had been a pure sky blue, and the divot in the chin… Darren had spent many nights as a lovesick teen thinking about this man. It was almost as big a shock to realize he still carried a bit of that teenage crush as it was to see Stefan’s brother again.

There was a split second where Darren thought Lee looked as shocked as Darren felt, but it was so fleeting, and Lee’s expression was blank as the employment section of the corkboard hanging by the register.

“Darren.”

That was it, just his name said in a deep, gravelly voice, but it was enough to make Darren grateful for the apron covering him from waist to mid-thigh. He found a hidden reserve of calmness he didn’t really feel, especially not when his dick had hardened the instant Lee had spoken.

Darren tightened his grip on the coffee pot, nodded and prayed his voice wouldn’t squeak. “Lee.” Then he really didn’t know what else to say, except the one thing he wasn’t sure he could say. Darren was saved from having to even try when the cook yelled, “Order up!” He nodded again and knew he must look like a complete idiot for doing so. His cheeks burned with embarrassment as he set the coffee pot down on the counter. The walk around to pick up the orders seemed unnaturally long, and Darren didn’t know if it was paranoia or if he really was feeling Lee watching him as he hefted the plates.

Of course he’s watching me, stupid! There’s exactly zero chance Stefan’s brother just happened to show up in McKinton, over three hundred miles from his home in Jackson. Darren turned and walked back