something to eat.â
Jules was breathing slowly and steadily. Heâd been tired before the fireworksâgood word for itâand now he was completely wrung out. Robin leaned over and kissed him gently on the forehead before standing up.
âThanks,â he said, even though he was thinking,
A sandwich with Sam. Oh, boy.
Sam was even scarier than Alyssa. He had this way of looking at Robin as if he were fresh birdcrap on the windshield of his recently detailed sports car.
Still, Robin was going to have to sit down and have a conversation with the big former SEAL one of these days. Why not right now?
He grabbed his jacket as he crossed to the slider. But before he got there, Alyssa said, âHey, Robin?â
He turned to look at her in the dimness.
âI understand, too,â she said. âHow much you love Jules. And for the record? I think itâs great. Heâs been waiting for you, his entire life.â
âThat means a lot to me,â Robin managed to choke out, and great. Now as he pushed past the closed drapes and stepped out into the chill of the balcony, he had fricking tears in his eyes.
Sam had the light on out there, and as Robin closed the slider behind him, the former SEAL put down the book heâd been reading.
And there it was, that birdcrap-on-the-windshield withering look.
Jesus, Robin needed a drink.
And okay. Great. Maybe this wasnât the right time for this altercation, if it meant he was going to start thinking
that
kind of bullshit.
âAlyssa said there were sandwiches?â Robin made it a question, but there was an obvious deli bag on the table next to Sam. Maybe the man would just point to it, and let Robin eat in silence, after which heâd go back inside and curl up in that bed, with his arms around Jules.
And sure enough, Sam pointed. But he also said in his Texas cowboy drawl, âTurkey and swiss, roast beef, or veggie wrap. I wasnât sure what youâd want.â
âTurkeyâs perfect,â Robin said, digging through the bag. âThank you so much.â
âThereâs soda, too.â And there was, indeed, a second bag on the floor. âOr bottled water. Have a seat.â
Robin sat, because that was an order, not a request. But heâd never been particularly good with authority, which was probably why he said, âNo beer or wine coolers, huh?â
And okay. He was now disgusting purple birdcrap.
âIâm curious,â Sam said when he finally spoke. âWhy do you think thatâs funny? Because I donât find it funny at all.â
âItâs not funny,â Robin agreed. âYou scare the hell out of me, and not just because you could probably kill me with your pinky finger. Iâm well aware that you donât like meâfor good reasons andâ¦You know, I could really use a meeting.â He looked up from his sandwich and said around it, âAlcoholics Anonymous. I go. A lot.â
âI know what a meeting is.â Sam managed to look even more annoyed. âIâve been to plenty. Both AA and Al-Anon.â
Robin just looked at him.
Sam shrugged. âMy mother,â he said. âSheâs been sober for over a decade. Sheâs still involved in the program, so yeah, Iâve been to my share of meetings.â
âI didnât know that,â Robin said.
âJules told me,â Sam said, âthat
your
mom didnât make it.â
This was surreal. Of all the topics to broach among relative strangersâ¦Still, Robin managed to nod. âDUI and DOA when I was eleven.â
âFuck.â The word was heartfelt.
âShe left me long before that,â Robin said. For years, heâd said those same words, but it was only recently, after going through rehab and fighting to stay sober, that he really understood what it meant.
Sam put his cowboy-booted feet up on a little side table. Clunk and clunk. âMy mother pretty much