Coach Love(62)

She pulled her phone out of her purse so she could read Kieran’s text one more time before deleting it.





Chapter Twenty-One





“Let’s go. You told me you’d go with me to this damn thing.” Kieran banged on Dominic’s door, tugging at the tie currently choking him, sweat dripping down his back under the shirt and suit coat.

Finally, the door opened revealing Dom in his underwear, a half-empty bourbon bottle dangling from his fingers, eyes glassy, face red. He pondered Kieran for a few seconds then stumbled into the living room.

“What the hell dude? Get dressed. What’s your deal?”

Kieran plucked the bottle out of Dom’s fist and shoved him toward the bathroom. “Where’s your suit?” He pawed through the closet full of jeans and brewery shirts. “Get in the shower,” he hollered. The sound of water hitting tiles gave him some comfort.

Antony and Aiden would be there, too, but he’d gotten close to Dom since moving home, and the fact was he needed Dominic with him today. A lot of water had flowed under their mutual bridge in the past few weeks, and he’d been surprised and happy to admit he enjoyed the man’s company now.

“You watching out for him,” his mother had said a few days before. “It gives me peace of mind.”

He found a suit and a couple of dress shirts covered in plastic. Dom stumbled into the bedroom, dripping wet.

“Where’s your towel?”

“I like to air dry,” his brother muttered under his breath, touching the suit lying on the bed and running his fingers down the tie. He dropped down then fell flat with his arm over his face, water beaded on his naked skin.

“Well, get dry, get dressed, get some water in you, and let’s get this over with.”

Dom groaned and flipped him off.

“I don’t know what your issue is. I’m the one whose ex-girlfriend’s marrying some lawyer tool.”

“He’s not a tool,” Dom said from under his arm.

Kieran blinked, confused. “Whatever. I’m sure he’s a swell dude. Him and his giant…bank account. Come on.” He flung the shirt at Dom’s naked body and stomped into the kitchen. “You forget how to wash dishes?” Loading the dishwasher seemed like the right thing to do, so he slammed around for a while, marveling at the mess.

Dominic had never been a neat freak but the level of squalor in his small space above the old brewery shocked him. Frowning, Kieran pulled open the thin cabinet where Dom kept his various vitamins and pills stashed and spotted two full prescription bottles. “Dom, why aren’t you taking your—”

“None of your motherfuckin’ business. Let’s go.” Dom emerged from behind him, dressed, his wet hair tied with a piece of leather. His face seemed thin. The suit hung on him. He flinched away when Kieran tried to straighten his tie. “Get off me.” After pulling a Gatorade from the fridge, he put his hands on the counter, head hanging low.

“What’s up with you?”

“Mind your own business, Ginger.” Dom whirled on him, fists at the ready. Kieran waited for the first blow, determined to take it and get out of here with Dom in tow. “You’re so...insufferably...perfect.”

“Perfect?” He laughed, but it hurt his chest. “Now I know you’re off your meds. You’ve gotten delusional.” Deciding not to pursue it since they were already late, he let Dom climb down off his anger ledge on his own. Years of experience with that stood him in good stead.

He opened the door and followed Dominic down the rickety metal stairs to the parking lot. Dom stopped before he got into the car, seeming to gather his wits about him. Kieran climbed in and turned the key.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I know you need to keep taking your medicine.”

Dom grunted and slumped down in the seat.

“I know you get like this when you decide to self un-medicate.”

“You don’t know anything. So shut up. And don’t go talking about me to Mama and Daddy either. You all don’t get to decide how I’m gonna live, got it?” Dominic’s harsh words were tempered by his voice, which sounded soft, aloof even. Kieran frowned, but the light changed so he concentrated on the road awhile, resisting the urge to ask about Jackie, or the yoga teacher, or Diana Brantley or any number of women Dominic had been attached to in the distant and near past.

“I got the coaching job,” Kieran said by way of conversation.

“Super,” Dom replied in that same flat voice. “Congrats, Coach.”

“Yeah, something like that. Doesn’t mean I can stop bouncing though. It’s only eight grand a year.” He smiled in spite of himself. He couldn’t wait to be around the school, in the environment that had made him so happy last year, this time on the basketball court, his home away from home. Glancing over at his brother, Kieran was shocked to see him blinking fast, as if trying to keep from crying. Focusing quickly on the road, he attempted to suppress the extreme anxiety roiling around in his chest.