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Then he surprised me by laughing out loud.
“You little shit,” Dante teased. “You saw right through me, didn’t you, Ciaran?”
“I’ve become fluent in Vaulteneau,” was Ciaran’s succinct response.
Dante glanced at me to see my reaction.
“He calls me on my bullshit all the time, Dante,” I said. “Daily, in fact.”
“Interesting,” my brother mused as he looked between us. Whatever he saw must have satisfied him because he squeezed my shoulder affectionately. “Looks like you met your match. You and Dad, both.”
“When is it your turn?”
Dante grimaced like I’d opened a wound. “Hopefully never.” To Ciaran, he said, “Nice to meet you, Ciaran, and welcome to the family. I’ll see you guys at the meeting tomorrow.”
We watched Dante disappear into the big house. A second later, Ciaran asked, “What meeting tomorrow?”
I had no intention of telling him that Theresa had called a family meeting where all of us would discuss the best ways to help those in need. If Ciaran really wanted to give away the Vaulteneau wealth, this was his chance. It was going to be a surprise in the morning.
“You’ll just have to wait and see,” I said.
Ciaran was not amused and was about to pester me for clues.
But I was saved by the fireworks display that launched from a boat out in the ocean.
The party wound down after that and we said our goodbyes to the swim team while Ciaran’s friends went inside the main house to spend the night in the third-floor suites.
The lawn and pool were a disaster. I didn’t know who was going to clean it up in the morning, but it wasn’t me.
“Happy birthday, sweet boy,” Joan said after kissing my boyfriend on the lips. We were at front gate waiting for Davies to bring up Joan’s car.
Tonight’s party hadn’t served alcohol, so everyone was safe to drive home.
I pushed Joan aside so I could manhandle my man. “You have your own boy toy,” I informed Joan. “Leave mine alone.”
“Filipe’s resting before Nationals,” she pouted. “Which means, among other things, no sex.”
“Poor Joan,” I quipped just as the purple race car rumbled up the ramp.
Filipe chanced a glance at me before shrugging. “Gotta stay focused, my dude.”
Filipe need not have worried about me. Even Ciaran’s gaze was thoughtful.
While I hadn’t been benched or suspended—the athletic director commended me for enrolling in a rehab program—I’d purposefully withdrew from the competition. I wasn’t in the right headspace and my shoulder was injured worse than we’d previously suspected. Nationals would be there next year when I was ready, and if I was lucky, and still swimming, and in a good headspace, I’d work hard to qualify at the Olympic Swim trials in four years.
It all seemed so far away, but in the end I knew I was making the right decision.
I wasn’t quitting, Dr. Nance reminded me with some frequency. I was resetting.
It took me a while to believe that.
After Joan and Filipe left, I brought Ciaran into the guesthouse, locked all the doors, and marched him into the bathroom for a quick, cool shower.
“You look like a man with a plan,” Ciaran declared as I dried him with a towel. Everything about him was perfect. His body, his mind, his humor, the way he put up with me.
Ciaran’s eyes narrowed when I placed a set of pajamas in his hands. Granted, it was just a soft T-shirt and his boxers, but still.
“You do realize it’s my birthday party, right, Matty?”
