“Why doesn’t that surprise me.” He arched an eyebrow. “Are you really wearing that?”
“He’s really wearing that,” Damian said dryly, looking at me as I slipped into my outfit.
My Captain America costume.
Still fit like a glove.
A very, very tight glove, but a glove nonetheless.
“What? I think it looks good? And what else would I wear to a wedding on Halloween night?”
“I can see the complete outline of your balls,” he said, unamused.
“Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve seen them, am I right?” I joked, nudging him in the arm.
Jax shot a look at Damian. “I’ve never seen this dude’s balls before.”
“I know. Connor’s just weird as fuck.”
“But for some reason, you two still love me.” I smirked.
“We feel sorry for you and your mental illness. We’d be bad people if we abandoned you,” Jax said, patting me on the back.
I took a deep breath, feeling the nerves of the whole situation hitting me. I was really about to do this. I was about to marry my best friend.
“Any words of advice for a nervous groom?” I asked Jax. “I mean, you’ve been with Kennedy for years now. What wise words do you have for me and my marriage?”
“You’re wrong,” he said without thought. “Whatever the situation, even if you’re right—you’re wrong.”
Before I could reply, Kennedy popped her head into the bathroom. “Jax, I need the diapers, and they weren’t where you said they’d be.”
“Did you check behind the bar like I mentioned?” he asked.
She sighed. “You didn’t say behind the bar.”
“I did say…” Jax paused. He looked at me, and then he turned to his wife and gave a big, fake smile. “You’re right. I didn’t say that. I’m wrong.”
She nodded. “Of course, I’m right. I’m always right. Now come help me. Trevor’s diaper exploded all over the place.”
Jax smirked at me and shrugged. “See, kid? You’re wrong. Just remember that, and you’ll be fine. I’ll be back.”
He walked out of the bathroom, leaving me with Damian, who seemed even quieter than his norm. He was holding a piece of paper in his hands as his brows stayed lowered.
“What’s going on, buddy? You okay?” I asked, walking over to him.
He grimaced, folded the piece of paper, and slid it back into the his pocket. “It’s nothing.”
“You can’t lie to your brother on his wedding day,” I warned.
“I’m not trying to bring down the mood.”
“The mood can be brought down for a moment, then we’ll turn it back up. What’s going on?”
He sighed and handed me the letter. “It’s from my father. Well, it was sent on his behalf. He’s been in California all this time. He’s known where I’ve been my whole life. I guess he recently croaked. But, before he died, he wrote me that note. The funeral is next week.”
“Holy shit.” I read the letter, stunned. His father’s name was Kevin Michaels, and he’d invited Damian to California to find the answers that Damian had been searching for his whole life, the missing pieces to his story.
“Are you going out there?” I asked.
“I feel like I need to, but I don’t know how long I’d be out there. I don’t know how long it will take me to get the answers I want. The answers I fucking deserve.”
“Yeah. I get that.”
“I don’t even know what I’d do for work. I can’t go out there wasting time and money looking for pieces of my fucked-up story.”
“Unless you had a west coast real estate company to run, that is.”
He turned my way and cocked an eyebrow. “What?”
“Our west coast property had been down since the situation with Jason and Walter. I’d been holding off reopening until we had the right person to run it. It makes me feel stupid that I’ve taken this long to realize that the right person has always been you.”
Damian’s brows knitted together and he frowned. “You don’t have to do me any favors, Connor.”
“Yes, I do. That’s what family does. We look out for each other. Go out there and find your answers, Damian. You deserve to know your history.”
He sniffled a bit, and that was the closest I’d ever seen Damian get to crying. “Knock, knock,” he said.
I smirked. “Who’s there?”
“You.” He shrugged. “You’re there. You’ve been there for me since you showed up, and I don’t think you know how much that means to me. You’re the brother I always wanted.” I felt myself on the brink of tears and he rolled his eyes. “Don’t make it weird, Connor.”
“No, I mean, I’m not gonna cry.”
“You’re already crying.”
“Well you can’t just say shit like that, Damian and expect me not to cry, dammit! Can I hug you?”
“No.”
“Can I say I love you without making you uncomfortable?”
“Probably not.”
“All right then, I hate you.”
He smirked. “I hate you, too.”
I scratched at my beard. “But we do need to get together sometime and work on your punchlines. That was a very odd joke.”