“Colon cancer?” I asked confused.
He shrugged. “You know fried greasy shit.”
“Oh!” I replied.
He grinned. “I sound like a doc already,” he replied looking smug.
The door to the apartment opened then and Creed came walking inside. Fighting not to look his way was difficult. He was hard to ignore.
“Jazz came by, you weren’t here, she left,” Chet told him then sank down onto the sofa.
Creed nodded but his attention was on the banana Chet was eating. “Where did you get a banana?” he asked.
Chet pointed it in my direction. “Beautiful here went grocery shopping. We have legit food in the kitchen.”
My eyes met Creed’s as he shifted his attention to me. “You’re leaving tomorrow,” he stated. I assumed he was pointing that out because I’d bought food.
“We get to keep her a few more days. Movers are having mechanical issues,” Chet answered for me. I was thankful for that. Talking to Creed after being apart from him for any given time was hard. I didn’t want it to be hard. I wanted to look at Creed the same way I looked at Chet.
Creed said nothing but headed toward his bedroom. When the sound of the door closing behind him clicked softly, I was studying my hands. I didn’t watch him walk. Things always felt awkward. For me. Not him.
“He’s a moody dude,” Chet said from the sofa across from me. “Always has been or as long as I’ve known him he has been.”
That got my attention and I lifted my gaze to meet his. “He’s your cousin,” I stated the obvious.
Chet nodded. “Yeah, but he hasn’t always been. His mom married my dad’s brother four years ago.”
Oh…okay. Thinking of his mother married to someone else was odd. The last good memory I had of his parents, his mother was baking banana bread and his father was teasing her about her cooking skills. They’d seemed happy. I’d never witnessed them fighting, and I spent as much time at their house as I did my Gran’s over the many summers I visited.
Chet leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “His parents got divorced when he was seventeen just a few months after his sister died. Sad shit,” he whispered. “I figure it’s part of his moodiness. I just overlook it.”
I watched as Chet stood up then turned to look back at the closed door of his room. He and his dad had been so close. My chest ached for him. I knew so little about his life after Cora died.
The door to Griff’s room opened and I remembered that things happened for a reason. If Creed hadn’t shut me out then I wouldn’t have found Griff. I loved Griff. He was good to me. He made me happy. I’d been so unhappy when we met.
Because of losing Creed and Cora.
Shaking my head, I cleared my thoughts. I wasn’t going to think about what could have been. There was no point. Life happened and time moved on.
Five
Red’s was loud and college students were everywhere. It reminded me a lot of Smokey’s in Nashville. All college bars probably looked alike. This was just my second one to visit. However, Red’s was on the water, making the view much nicer.
Griff’s hand stayed closed around mine as we walked through the people. Chet was leading the way and he had said there was a table reserved for us near the left of the stage. I found that hard to believe with the mass quantity of bodies in this bar.
When we finally broke through the congestion of people there was, in fact, a table to the left of the stage. It was a round booth to be exact. The table was large enough for at least ten people to sit around it with eight of those people fitting in the curved booth seating.
I recognized Jazz sitting snuggled up to a guy with spiked bleach-blonde hair on the right side of the booth. A guy with black hair pulled back in a ponytail sat on the far-left side of the booth and on a stool beside him with one booted foot propped on the stool and the other planted firmly on the ground sat Creed. A beer was in his hand and he appeared relaxed and rock star like.
“Creed!” Chet called out over the noise and Creed turned his gaze toward us.
Chet stopped in front of their table and Creed stood up. “Hey,” he replied, his gaze shifting from Chet to me lingering a moment then he nodded his head toward the table. “Have a seat.”
The guy with the ponytail stood up and waved his hand for us to move inside.
“This is Dalm,” Creed said by way of introducing us. “You met Jazz already and then that’s Wayne.”
“Thanks for letting us crash your table,” Chet told them.
“We don’t use it much anyway. At least you all can keep the others away,” Jazz said with a shrug of her bare shoulder. The red halter top and tiny black leather wrapped around her waist to make a skirt was still all she had on. Most of her skin was exposed, and I was freezing just looking at her.