COLE

“And just where do you think you’re coming from, young lady?” I folded my arms.

My grandaunt startled, then slowly turned around, hands in front of her, searching.

“Where am I?” She felt for the walls. “How did I get here? Don’t tell me I was sleepwalking again.”

My lips twitched with the beginning of a smile, but I sobered up. Her knees were the reason I was here. Though I’d suspected she was exaggerating how bad the situation was, I’d given her a taste of her own medicine by having her rest and do nothing.

For an active woman of her age, she didn’t care for that one bit. It would only be a matter of time before she confessed why she’d insisted on me visiting. I’d fallen asleep on the couch, and when I woke up, I’d found her gone instead of resting like she’d said she would.

Deceitful woman.

She would have sounded more believable if she wasn’t covered in glitter and smelled of cheap cologne.

“Cut the act, Gladys. You’re not fooling anyone. Where did you go anyway? Pink Lips?”

Pink Lips was a strip club she frequented every other Thursday. When I was sixteen, she’d sat me down, told me a woman had needs too, and instructed me to contact 911 if I had an emergency. Not her. 911.

“All right, yes, I went to the Pink Lips,” she said. “Got me a nice lap dance, and now I’m back. What’s the problem?”

“I thought your knees hurt.”

“I wasn’t standing up. You have to sit to get a lap dance.” She shook her head. “And I thought you were a genius.”

“You know what I mean. You lied about your knees to get me here.”

“I wouldn’t have had to lie if you’d come home.”

“That’s manipulative.”

“No, that’s love. Like the love I showed you when I took you in and provided a home for you right here in this house you’re trying to avoid.”

“And now I’m trying to return the favor. You’ve been to my place in Atlanta. It’s huge. You’ll have enough space to continue your shenanigans. There are even more strip clubs in Atlanta than here.”

“No, thanks. This is my home, but it’s yours too, so you’re welcome to stay.”

She was so stubborn. God, I needed a couple of hours away from this place and her.

“Fine! I’m going out.”

“There’s a nice little pub on the corner of Bendover. Very pride friendly.”

A gay-friendly bar in this small hick town? Now I was curious. I changed my shirt, put on a nice pair of jeans, brushed my hair, and set out in Gladys’s old truck. The metal creaked and groaned. I winced. If she didn’t move in with me, I would have to convince her to let me buy her a new truck.

For some reason, she wouldn’t allow me to spend money on her. Always said she raised me out of love and not because she wanted me to give anything back. It only made me want to give her the world.

The pub was once a feed store. The lavender-neon lights flashed the name “Bow Ties” next to a Pride flag. Who would have thought finding a parking space would be next to impossible in the lot of a gay-friendly bar in a small town in Minnesota? Just my luck, two guys who’d been kissing against a car broke apart and got in. As soon as they drove out, I claimed their spot.

Since returning to Rosewood Pines, I hadn’t been anywhere. A nervous flutter rippled through my stomach. I stuffed a hand into my pocket.

I’m different now.

Plus, what were the odds that everyone I went to school with had remained in town?

When I walked into the pub, I had a good look around. Wow. It was better than I’d expected. The interior exuded an inviting ambiance with the soft glow of low, warm lighting. Vintage photographs hung on the walls. I made a beeline for the bar in the center of the room and signaled the bartender.

A decade was stripped away instantly. The years hadn’t been kind to our friendship. We’d kept in touch for birthdays and holidays with cards, but whenever we indulged in a call, it could go on for hours.

It’d been ten years since I’d seen Ashlee in person.

“Cole!” She hurried down the bar, her eyes sparkling. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

She knew I was in town and that I didn’t plan to get out much. We had made plans to meet tomorrow for lunch, but it felt so much better running into her like this.

“I’m surprised too,” I said. “But Gladys was driving me nuts.”

She laughed. “Nothing new. Wish I had parents like her. She’s so cool.”

“I’m not sure when your seventy-two-year-old grandaunt goes to a strip club for a lap dance, it’s cool anymore.”

“Haha. She’ll be dragging her walker to the strip club when she’s a hundred.”

“I’ll have to bury her with singles and glitter.”

As much as we chuckled about it, I didn’t enjoy thinking so far in the future. Hopefully, very far. Why didn’t Gladys see this was the reason she needed to come to Atlanta with me? She was getting older. I wanted to cherish every moment with her.