Shards in the Sun

By Trina Lane

The heart of Texas beats strong, fueled by the love between two men whose lives are interwoven like the long grass of the hill country they call home.

Brandon Blackstun has spent the last decade moving on from the hellish halls of high school. With an invitation to his reunion in hand, he plans to show his former classmates that not only did the repeated occurrences of being slammed into lockers not cause brain damage, but he's now a successful cover artist for the very books they buy off the shelves.

Tyler Synder was determined not to follow in his father's footsteps as head of the international corporation that bears the family name. Instead, his heart is tied to the beat of his horses' thundering hooves. He operates a breeding program for Tennessee Walkers and a guest ranch a couple of hours from the urban luxury of Dallas where he was raised.

The two men might live very different lives, but the heat between them is hotter than any Texas sun. With the help—or meddling—of an unlikely pair of friends, the two explore a relationship that stirs something deep inside them. Distance and misunderstandings force Tyler and Brandon to consider whether the fulfillment they've experienced in each other's arms is worth the sacrifice of the lives they've built individually.

Texas may be the second biggest state in the union, but is it large enough to embrace the love between these two men, or will their deeply hidden fears shatter the boundaries of their hearts?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pride Publishing
• Release date: Feb 14, 2017
• ISBN: 9781786515285

Trina Lane

If you look up the word conundrum in the dictionary, there should be Trina’s photo next to the description. Her multifaceted personality has left her friends scratching their heads in wonder. A scientist with a passion for history, music and photography she loves to travel and experience new places but is terminally shy around people she doesn’t know. Trina has been devouring romance novels since her tender teenage years. In 2007 she finally took the initiative to write down one of stories that had been rattling around her head for years. Her choices in reading and writing material are as diverse as her iTunes library, which contains music from Mozart to Metallica. Her one concession is all stories must have a happily ever after ending. Did we mention she’s incurably romantic?

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Page

Shards in the Sun

ISBN # 978-1-78651-528-5

©Copyright Trina Lane 2017

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright January 2017

Edited by Rebecca Scott

Pride Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Pride Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Pride Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2017 by Pride Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

Pride Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.

The Heart of Texas

SHARDS IN THE SUN

Trina Lane

Book one in The Heart of Texas series

The heart of Texas beats strong, fueled by the love between two men whose lives are interwoven like the long grass of the hill country they call home.

Brandon Blackstun has spent the last decade moving on from the hellish halls of high school. With an invitation to his reunion in hand, he plans to show his former classmates that not only did the repeated occurrences of being slammed into lockers not cause brain damage, but he’s now a successful cover artist for the very books they buy off the shelves.

Tyler Synder was determined not to follow in his father’s footsteps as head of the international corporation that bears the family name. Instead, his heart is tied to the beat of his horses’ thundering hooves. He operates a breeding program for Tennessee Walkers and a guest ranch a couple of hours from the urban luxury of Dallas where he was raised.

The two men might live very different lives, but the heat between them is hotter than any Texas sun. With the help—or meddling—of an unlikely pair of friends, the two explore a relationship that stirs something deep inside them. Distance and misunderstandings force Tyler and Brandon to consider whether the fulfillment they’ve experienced in each other’s arms is worth the sacrifice of the lives they’ve built individually.

Texas may be the second biggest state in the union, but is it large enough to embrace the love between these two men, or will their deeply hidden fears shatter the boundaries of their hearts?

Dedication

To Jared, who served as the inspiration for Brandon’s character. Life has shown you many paths to follow. Some have led to pleasure, and some have led to pain. My hope is that you to realize there is a man who will heal the cuts on your soul somewhere. Keep your heart and your mind open to possibilities, for if you do then someday there will be a pair of boots lying beside yours at the foot of the bed.

Also a big thanks to Emmy, cover artist extraordinaire, who provided the details to make Brandon’s passion come to life.

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

SNL: Broadway Video

Netflix: Netflix Inc

Jack Daniel’s: Brown-Forman Corporation

Bran Flakes: Kellogg Company

Jedi: Lucasfilm, The Walt Disney Company

Stetson: Hatco, Inc.

Buzzbrews Kitchen: Buzzbrews

Uber: Uber Technologies Inc

The Mummy: Universal Pictures

So You Think You Can Dance: Dick Clark Productions

GQ: Advance Publications, Inc.

Converse by John Varvatos: Nike, Inc.

Nineteen Kids and Counting: Figure 8 Films

Let’s Get It On: Marvin Gaye, Ed Townsend

Photoshop: Adobe Systems Incorporated

With great power comes great responsibility: Marvel Comics

Google: Alphabet Inc.

Looney Tunes: Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.

Corona: Corona Extra

Blue Moon Summer Honey Wheat: Blue Moon Brewing Company

Go Go Gadget: DIC Entertainment

Bambi: The Walt Disney Company

Disney: The Walt Disney Company

Nieman Marcus: Ares Management, CPP Investment Board

Monopoly: Hasbro

Mister Ed: Walter R. Brooks

Barbie: Mattel, Inc.

Belmont Stakes: The New York Riding Association

Jeep: Chrysler, FCA US LLC

Voodoo Chile: Jimi Hendrix

Ford: The Ford Motor Company

American Idol: FreemantleMedia Ltd.

iTunes: Apple, Inc.

Dallas: Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.

Wheel of Fortune: CBS Television Distribution

TollTag: North Texas Tollway Authority

Audi: Volkswagen AG

Mercedes: Daimler AG

Bentley: Volkswagen Group

Jurassic Park: Universal Pictures

Home on the Range: Daniel E. Kelley, Brewster M. Higley

Maple and Motor: Maple and Motor

Amazon: Amazon.com, Inc.

BMW: Bayerische Motoren Werke AG

Smells Like Teen Spirit: Nirvana

Starbucks: Starbucks Corporation

Frappuccino: Starbucks Corporation

Pabst Blue Ribbon: Pabst Brewing Company

Baby: Justin Bieber, Christopher ‘Tricky’ Stewart, Terius ‘The Dream’ Nash, Christopher Bridges, Christina Milian

Kentucky Derby: Churchill Downs Incorporated

Pepsi: PepsiCo, Inc.

Styrofoam: The Dow Chemical Company

YouTube: YouTube, Inc.

The Walking Dead: AMC Networks Inc.

Irish Spring: Colgate Palmolive Company

NRA: National Rifle Association of America

Technicolor: Technicolor SA

Abercrombie and Fitch: Abercrombie & Fitch

Batman: DC Comics

Magic Mike: Warner Bros. Pictures

Back to the Future: Universal Pictures

Modern Family: Twentieth Television, Inc.

America’s Next Top Model: CBS Television Distributions

Glee: Twentieth Television, Inc.

Fifty Shades: E.L. James

Facebook: Facebook, Inc.

Twitter: Twitter, Inc.

Shark Tank: MGM Worldwide Television

Rhett Butler: Margaret Mitchell

Cinderella: The Walt Disney Company

Cartier: Société Cartier

Spidey senses: Marvel Comics

Sex and the City: Darren Starr Productions, HBO Original Programming

ESPN: ESPN Inc.

Wi-Fi: The Wi-Fi Alliance

Xena: Warrior Princess: Renaissance Pictures

Stella: Anheuser-Busch InBev NV

Saison Dupont: Dupont Brewery

Hallmark: Hallmark Cards, Inc.

Light My Fire: The Doors

JR’s Bar and Grill: JR’s Bar

Captain Corelli’s Mandolin: Louis de Bernières, Universal Studios

Rainbow Award: Elisa Rolle, The Rainbow Awards

Driving Miss Daisy: Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.

Station 4: Station 4 Dallas

HorseCam: LUDA Electronic, AB

Nines Bar: The Nines!

Why a Gay Person Can’t Be Made Un-Gay: Praeger

Queer Families, Common Agendas: Gay People, Lesbians, and Family Values: Routledge

Sizzler: Sizzler Inc.

Jubilee!: Caesars License Company, LLC

Fantasy: MGM Resorts International

Chapter One

Brandon studied his reflection in the glass door to Gilly’s.

It’s been ten years. You’re a different man now. Nothing anybody says or does can hurt you. You are a moderately successful, occasionally sexually active, tax-paying member of society.

I can do this, he whispered.

Mental pep talk again? The likeness of his best friend appeared next to him in the glass.

Someone behind him said, Excuse me, and Brandon stepped away from the door.

Jessenia had been his partner in crime since the two of them had met on the first day of high school. If he’d been straight or she’d been a man, he would have totally put a ring on it. However, since neither scenario was possible in this time-space continuum, Jessenia had declared Brandon to be her gay bestie, and she was his loveable fag hag. Her words. Not his.

Just remember, Brandon. You’re good enough, you’re smart enough, and, dog-gone-it, people—

He spun and covered Jessenia’s mouth with his hand. Don’t even— Brandon felt the vibrations of her voice beat against his palm as she finished speaking despite his aborted threat. He smiled and saw a twinkle in Jessenia’s smoky eyes. The old tag line brought back memories of the two of them watching old SNL skits on Netflix.

I know we’ve all matured and crap, but inside this confident and magnificently sexy gay man is a skinny little homo who is one shove against a locker shy of a catastrophic meltdown.

Jessenia’s eyebrows lifted and Brandon realized he still had his hand covering her mouth. He felt something wet his palm and jerked it away. Gross! Put that girl tongue back in your mouth. Besides, how do you know my hands are clean? I could have jerked off before I left and not washed my hands afterward.

Jessenia rolled her eyes. Please. I wouldn’t be surprised if you eventually develop a method of having cum vaporize before it touches anything to avoid the clean-up.

Brandon laughed, which he knew was Jessenia’s intent. She was the freakishly clean science geek between the two of them. Besides, in Brandon’s mind there was nothing like licking fresh cum off the quivering stomach of a man.

He turned to face the door once again and linked his arm with Jessenia’s. Let’s show them what studs we are! he said, then winked.

Brandon opened the door with a flourish. He bowed and gestured in a courtly manner for Jessenia to enter before him. He heard a giggle and watched his BFF do a little curtsey then dash inside. Brandon followed, ready to face the demons of his past.

His ears were assaulted by the sounds of a few hundred people all crammed into the popular bar, and apparently all trying to talk over each other. He knew the reunion committee had rented The Loft. However, he noticed that he and Jessenia had walked into the Jack Daniel’s Saloon area, nowhere near the second-story private rooms. He tried to get Jessenia’s attention, but his voice became lost in the conversations of a rowdy Saturday night crowd. Not to mention covered by the amplified twang of live country music being broadcast from a stage in the back. The scents of beer, bar food and humanity wafted toward him. Brandon jerked as Jessenia grabbed his hand and pulled him farther into the melee.

Jess, we need to go around the other side!

She shook her head. Let’s get a couple shots of liquid courage first. Besides, the band sounds great. She stopped and turned to face him. Unless you’re suddenly in a great rush to mingle with our former classmates.

Brandon smiled and pointed toward the bar in the center of the room. You want your usual?

When in Rome! Get me a Jack, straight up.

Oh boy! Brandon knew that if Jessenia was hitting the hard stuff she was more nervous than she had let on. High school hadn’t been a time of idealistic adolescence for either of them. Brandon had been a double minority—the only openly gay white male in what was a predominantly Hispanic student population. Jessenia, on the other hand, came from a strict Muslim family who’d emigrated from Egypt only a couple of years before her arrival. Her father had voraciously fought to have his daughter exempt from the uniform code due to religious objections, thereby making Jessenia a target for ridicule.

After they’d finished high school, Jessenia had forgone her hijab and no longer followed the strictures of Islam. When she’d told her mother and father of her decision, they’d informed her that she’d turned her back on Allah and was no longer welcome in their home. It had seemed only logical that they would become roommates. With the help of his mom they’d scraped together enough money for first and last month’s rent on a tiny one-bedroom apartment. Ten years later, the two of them still lived together, were intermittently single and always ready to mingle! Or, more accurately, single and too broke to enjoy a carefree nightlife. Tonight’s reunion was their celebration of freedom. One final nod at the people they’d been and a toast to their future. Plus, in all honesty, a tiny bit of Brandon wanted to show up and thumb his nose at the bigots who’d tormented him.

It was a bit of a jig to get through the crowd and, despite his ability to shake it with the best of them, he felt as if he was the sphere in a vigorous game of pinball. He’d just about made it when a particularly hard bounce off an obstacle sent him reeling backward. A shove from behind sent Brandon careening forward, and he landed against a hard male body, only to rebound onto the floor. The last thing Brandon saw before he closed his eyes and raised his arms to ward off the impending shower of beer from a precariously tilting pitcher was a pair of startled pale blue eyes.

Whoa! That was a close one.

Brandon looked up to see that the man he’d collided with had saved the pitcher, much to the cheers of those around them. While the man accepted congratulations from nearby revelers, Brandon took the opportunity to rake his gaze up and down the long, lean body above him. His eyes met a pair of well-worn boots and rose up a set of legs encased in soft denim. Brandon only briefly checked out the man’s package—was he really not going to?—before sliding past the trim hips and flat stomach to a nice wide chest, strong throat, and ended up viewing a black felt cowboy hat. The cowboy’s face was turned away so Brandon couldn’t get a clear examination, but the profile was certainly appealing.

Brandon pushed up and moved to get to his feet. A hand appeared in his line of vision and Brandon gladly accepted. He was happy to see that it belonged to Hottie Cowboy.

You all right?

Brandon nodded. I’m good. Sorry about the near beertastrophy.

Hottie Cowboy let out a low chuckle. Perfect. What were the chances that McStudly was laughing with him and not at him?

It’s fine. Pretty crazy in here tonight. I think the word got out about the band and half of Dallas is here.

Brandon occasionally liked country, but he wasn’t exactly one truck ride away from a shotgun wedding with a daisy-duke wearing, whiskey-guzzling good old boy whose hound dog recently ran away. The band did sound good, though. He nodded just to keep Hottie Cowboy’s attention on him and smiled. Yeah. They’re something. He leaned in and caught a whiff of sandalwood cologne clinging to Cowboy’s body. Nice. Who are they?

No idea, Hottie Cowboy said, smiling.

There was a shout and Hottie Cowboy whipped his head to the left. Brandon saw the tendon tighten beneath the dusky tan flesh of his strong neck. He resisted the temptation to lick his lips at the thought of tasting Cowboy’s skin.

So I gotta go, but sorry again for knocking you over.

Play it cool. Play it cool. No problem. I have to get up to The Loft anyway. High school reunion. Woodrow Wilson High School class of 2005! Go Wildcats.

Hottie Cowboy smirked. Yeah, well have fun. He turned and rejoined his friends at the table a few feet away.

Brandon felt his face catch fire. Oh crap. Why the hell was it that every time he got nervous he either clammed up tighter than a vestal virgin or got Montezuma’s revenge of the mouth?

Wow, Bran Flakes. That was really, really depressing to watch.

He turned to see Jessenia standing a couple of feet away, holding in what was sure to be a laugh loud enough to fill one of the fake whiskey barrels hanging on the wall.

He stalled for time to compose himself by tucking a lock of his long hair behind his ear. Yeah. Not my best.

Jessenia shook her head. Nope. Maybe he’s straight, and completely clueless as to the fact that you were stripping him with your eyes and Jedi mind-tricking him into asking for your number.

Brandon glanced over at Hottie Cowboy and immediately noticed the man next to him put his arm around the cowboy’s waist.

"Hmm. On the other hand, maybe I should buy you a drink. Amaretto sour?"

Brandon nodded. Make it a double.

Jessenia sidled up to the bar and leaned against the edge. Brandon studied the bottle labels and old concert tickets beneath the acrylic surface of the bar top. As a graphic artist, he could appreciate the design in some of the items.

I need one Old Number Seven neat, and a tall amaretto sour. Don’t be shy with the sugar syrup and cherries on the last, Jessenia ordered.

Brandon smiled and bumped shoulders with his BFF. She knew him so well. Jessenia slugged back her first drink. Judging by the expression on the bartender’s face, he hadn’t expected Jess to be the one who picked up the hard stuff. She signaled for another and Brandon saw new respect in the hunky bartender’s eyes for the beautiful woman beside him. Too bad. Well, nice for Jessenia, but Brandon’s score for the evening was negative two.

He quietly scanned the crowd and sucked down his drink. It wasn’t long before the balm of first stage inebriation began to soothe his ragged psyche. They ambled farther into the bar area. Jessenia pulled Brandon’s arm when she saw one of the black benches miraculously vacant. The band started a new song and Brandon found himself tapping his foot to the beat. He ordered another drink from a roaming waitress. Three or four sips in, Brandon started to feel as though this night wouldn’t be a total loss. Good drink. Good music. His best friend beside him. He was about ready to head upstairs full of alcohol-induced confidence when he spotted Hottie Cowboy out of the corner of his eye.

Brandon couldn’t help but watch that long body cross the floor. He moaned a little when the most perfect cowboy ass was put on display as the man bent over to take a shot at the pool table off to the left side of the room. The clack of the balls was lost in the music and noise of the crowd but Brandon imagined that the percussion waves were felt in his chest as his heartbeat increased. He put the straw back in his mouth and sucked only to realize that his drink was gone. He wiggled his straw around for a couple of seconds, trying to capture one of the cherries in the bottom of the glass. Successfully spearing one, he slipped the sweet fruit off the tip of his straw.

Oh, do the thing! Jessenia cheered.

As a teen he’d thought it would be cool to learn how to tie a knot in a cherry stem with his tongue. Now it seemed silly, but he performed as requested.

"Voilà!" he announced, holding up his prize.

Jessenia’s laughter rang in his ears, but Brandon’s eyes were trained on Hottie Cowboy, whose gaze was focused on Brandon. Brandon swallowed and smiled. He held up the knotted stem and shrugged. The guitarist on stage burst into a solo right as Hottie Cowboy’s eyebrow rose, and Brandon would have sworn there was a twinkle in the cowboy’s blue eyes. Cowboy’s companion sidled up next to him and rose on his tiptoes to whisper in his ear. Brandon saw a little flick of the man’s tongue. Apparently Hottie Cowboy thought the move a little too aggressive, because he stepped away and frowned at his companion.

Note to self. Hottie Cowboy does not like ears licked. Brandon was a touchy guy, but always took note of a person’s no-go zones. Jess sometimes called him an octopus because he constantly caressed his boyfriends, or had an arm around their waists.

Right now this octopus wants to get his tentacles wrapped around all that cowboy flesh.

Hey, Bran Muffin! You listening to me?

Brandon looked over at Jessenia and shook his head. Nope. Why, what’s up?

I asked if you were ready to head up to The Loft. I think we can officially be considered fashionably late. However, judging by the way your eyes keep roaming over to the pool table, I venture to say that you’re quite comfortable where we are. Wanna ditch and stay here to ogle cute cowboys?

Brandon sighed when Hottie Cowboy turned back to his game. No. Let’s go. Hey, you never know. Maybe there’s a man upstairs who was desperately in love with me back in high school but too afraid to come out of the closet. Maybe I’m only minutes away from meeting the man of my dreams!

Jessenia took Brandon’s glass away from him. That’s it. I’m cutting you off. You’ve been reading too many of those romance novels again.

Excuse me! Who’s the person demanding copies of the very same books after I’m done with them?

Jessenia stood and gave him a wink. Can I help it if guy-on-guy action gets me all a-Twitter?

Hashtag fuckdeliciousmen?

Hashtag lovewins.

Jessenia’s willingness to accept all relationships was only another testament to how different she was from the family she’d been born into. He stood, took one last look over his shoulder at Hottie Cowboy, then followed Jessenia back toward the bar so they could walk around the other side of the building to The Loft. She took his hand, practically skipping. It was almost nine o’clock at night and still in the nineties. There was nothing like a Texas summer. The glow from the huge Gilly’s sign above their heads had Brandon looking up. He saw the small white balls of light lining the upper deck and heard the cheers of former classmates as they reminisced with old friends. He opened the door for Jessenia and gestured for her to enter.

Shall we?

Chapter Two

Brandon was leaning against the railing on the patio, nursing another drink. Jessenia had been pulled into the crowd on their arrival. While he could be a bit of an antisocial grouch, Jess could charm an asp at a hundred feet. Apparently, without her hijab and in fashionable clothing, Jessenia was a stunning beauty who everyone wanted to be around.

Brandon snorted. He should walk over there and tell all those morons that his best friend had always been a beautiful person—both inside and out. He, on the other hand, apparently hadn’t outwardly changed enough to warrant special attention. His hair was longer and his wardrobe had been updated, but he was still the same skinny, non-athletic person he’d always been.

Brandon Blackstun? Is that you hiding in the corner over there?

Fan-tastic. Unless his ears deceived him it was—

You remember me? Javier Alde. Hey, man, good to see you.

Brandon gave a little wave with his free hand. Hi. You, too. I guess. I mean, seeing you is better than, say, living in starvation in the Sudan.

I’m surprised you came to this thing.

Brandon stood a little taller. Why is that?

Javier shrugged. You never really seemed all that into class spirit.

He took a step forward into the light. "Gee, maybe that was because y’all treated me like some type of contagious disease. But you know what? You may have all hated what I am, but at least I was honest. At least I had the guts to be true to myself and not conform like a lemming. In fact, I have to ask, why is it so damn good to see me? I happen to remember you being one of the people who felt the need to make my face hit the metal of my locker at least twice a day."

Holy shit! As soon as he shut up, Brandon realized that he’d practically been shouting. Was it his imagination or had the music stopped completely and were the cicadas suddenly twice as loud? No? Maybe the buzzing was in his head? Where had all that come from? Brandon took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His tirade had gathered the attention of several others on the deck. Great. He’d come here to show everyone how mature he now was, how he didn’t hold any grudges and had moved on with his life. But apparently his first act was to throw a Cher-worthy diva temper tantrum. Damn amaretto sours.

Javier took a step closer to Brandon. "You’re right. Some of us did treat you like shit. In fact, the reason I am so glad to see you here tonight is because I wanted to apologize to you."

Well, fuck a damn duck. All the wind got sucked out of Brandon’s sails. Seriously? You just ruined a perfectly good snit! The whole reason I came here tonight was to shove it in all your faces that I’m a successful adult with a thriving business of my own, a fantastic social life, and now…now I have to deal with the fact that you’re a decent human being? Man, you blow.

Javier chuckled. Am I supposed to say sorry?

Brandon shrugged. Want to get a drink? he asked, holding up another empty glass.

Tell you what, just to spite you even further, I’ll buy, Javier said, smiling.

It’s an open bar.

Okay, so I’ll walk up to the bar, order you a drink, and carry it back to you. All without spitting into the glass.

Hmm. Sounds too good to be true. What’s the catch?

Brandon was having fun. Seriously. Fun. With Javier Alde. Had the earth somehow spun on its axis? He looked up at the night sky.

What are you doing? Javier questioned.

Watching for flying pig crap. Can’t be too careful, you know.

Ahh, yes. The possibility of plummeting pig poo is one of life’s potential imperilments.

Silence reined for all of five seconds before Brandon and Javier both burst out into laughter. He was just drunk enough that the silliness of the entire situation was multiplied exponentially, and Brandon couldn’t stop the stream of laughter. He and Javier were leaning against one another trying to catch their breath when Brandon turned his head and saw Jessenia walking toward them.

Guess I don’t have to rescue you after all.

Brandon shook his head. Jess, you remember Javier? Hey, you two would be hot together. I could call you Jevier, or oh, oh—I got it! Javissenia.

Javier smiled and Brandon was caught by how nice a smile the man had. He’d felt nice to lean against too. Warm. Solid. And a smoky scent to his aftershave.

No! Bad Brandon. No lusting after straight former bullies. Even if they are reformed and apparently not sprouting devil horns. Maybe another drink isn’t such a good idea.

He had a tendency to do stupid stuff when he was drunk. Like take home men who, moments after they’d been satisfied, turned into disinterested jerk-offs. Not that he was in danger of taking Javier home. The man might strum a few of Brandon’s chords, but he played in a decidedly different key.

Jessenia, you look beautiful. Javier kissed the back of Jessenia’s hand.

Jessenia laughed and looked over at Brandon. He raised his eyebrow. Was that a blush he saw on his best friend’s cheeks?

Javier smiled at Brandon again, and he found his center turning a little more gooey. Oh, jeez.

I was just about to fetch a pail of booze for Brandon and me. What can I get for you?

I’ll take a white wine. Thanks.

As soon as Javier walked away, Jessenia smacked Brandon on the shoulder.

Ow! he exclaimed, rubbing the injured area. What was that for?

Javier Alde? Since when were you best friends with the enemy?

Brandon shrugged. He’s not so bad. The expression of disbelief on Jessenia’s face was almost comical. Well, nowadays. He actually apologized for all the crap he pulled.

Jessenia crossed her arms. I can’t believe that one little apology would redeem him in your eyes.

Hello, kettle. I saw you get all giggly when he flashed those pearly whites.

"Please. I was just luring him into our trap."

Well, that’s a shame, because I was hoping the three of us could hang out tonight.

Brandon and Jessenia both jumped and spun around to find Javier standing behind them.

Why?

Jess! Jeez, rude much?

Javier shook his head. No, it’s cool. I figure I have to earn you guys’ trust.

Brandon accepted his drink then watched as Jess and Javier had a stare down before Jess accepted her glass of wine. The knot in his stomach loosened a little. He’d always hated confrontation of any type. Made him queasy.

Okay, I’m really not trying to be rude, but why do you suddenly want to hang out with us? Wouldn’t you rather reminisce with the football brigade over there? Jessenia asked, pointing to the opposite side of the patio.

Javier looked over his shoulder for a few seconds. Brandon saw something flash across his face. It was an expression Brandon was familiar with.

He