Loathed: Lagan (The Foster Brothers Book 3), page 5
Lagan narrowed his eyes. “What’s behind this?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why are you being nice to me all of a sudden?”
“Nice? If you call this nice, you need to raise your standards. I’m conceding a point that you rightfully made. Nothing nice about it.”
“So you’re admitting you’ve been a total dick to me?”
If he ground his teeth any harder, he’d crunch them to pieces. “I’m not admitting anything of the kind, merely acknowledging that I may have treated you differently than others.”
“May have? That sounds like a nonapology apology.”
If Lagan showed that calm persistency in court, he’d make a brilliant lawyer. “I did treat you differently.”
“Yeah, you did.”
“I shouldn’t have.”
“What made you realize it?”
Of course he had to ask that question. Lagan wouldn’t let him off the hook, and on some level, Killian respected him for it. “I overheard why that first group didn’t want you on their team. The A-plus reason was fair, but the other one was on me, and I do regret that.”
Lagan’s expression hardened. “You should. It wasn’t the first time I got rejected, and I’ve learned to deal with it, but for another student, that might’ve been a blow they’d never have recovered from.”
How rich that this guy was getting on his case about rejection. The irony was almost too heavy to take. “Duly noted. Do keep in mind that people in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones, though. Before you lecture me on rejection, you might want to examine your own behavior a little closer.”
Satisfied he’d gotten at least a last good line in, he walked off.
5
Every Friday evening, Lagan and his brothers had dinner together. They rarely missed it, true emergencies the only exception. Well, Nordin was traveling on occasion, but even he tried his hardest to be back on time for their weekly meet-up.
This week, they were gathering in Reid and Jaren’s loft. Lagan loved that place. They lived in an old industrial building that had been converted into apartments. The walls were partially the original bricks, and the ceilings were at least eight feet high, with the one bedroom and bathroom on an open mezzanine. The whole effect was stunning.
Plus, it was spacey, unlike his own apartment. Sure, his place was one hell of an improvement over the cramped one-bedroom he'd shared with Hadley, but it was still much smaller than this or the luxurious mansion Hadley now lived in with his billionaire boyfriend, Sebastian.
Every other week, the boyfriends would join them, but this Friday, it was the four of them, Lagan and his brothers. Jaren had cooked some super healthy lentil stew that looked unappealing but turned out to be much tastier than Lagan had expected. And it was full of fiber, as Jaren had stressed at least twice. He was on a health kick, eating obscure green stuff. Good for him, though Lagan wasn’t sure why they had to suffer with him, but whatever.
"Do you and Sebastian have any travels planned?" Lagan asked Hadley.
"Nothing yet, but Sebastian is being secretive again, so I'm sure I'll be whisked away to some exotic location sometime soon." Hadley rolled his eyes, but he was beaming, the love for his boyfriend radiating off him.
"It's such a hard life you lead now," Nordin commented dryly. "Thoughts and prayers, brother dear. Thoughts and prayers."
"Sometimes I can't believe this has become my reality, you know? It feels like only weeks ago that I had this massive bucket list I thought would always be a pipe dream, and now Sebastian is helping me check off one thing after another."
"The man is all too happy to spend his money on you rather than on material things," Jaren said.
He wasn't wrong. Sebastian was richer than Midas, but Lagan had gotten the impression he hadn't been truly happy until he'd met Hadley.
"Which reminds me…" Hadley tapped his chin. "Sebastian asked me to tell you he's looking for new LGBTQ+- friendly charities to support, other than the usual suspects. Apparently, he needs to donate more for taxes or something. So if you guys know of any, let him know."
Lagan sat up straight. "Does it have to be a specific charity aimed at helping LGBTQ+ people? Or is the requirement that the charity is queer accepting?"
"The latter. He wants to make sure he's not sponsoring any activities that aren’t inclusive. Why?"
"The legal aid clinic I volunteer for could use some more funding. Our director is transgender, and we have a very diverse clientele. I think word-of-mouth has driven a lot of queer people to our clinic because they know they'll find acceptance with us."
"That sounds like a good fit. I hate to be this guy, but could you send Sebastian an email with a brief pitch? Or have your director contact him? I prefer to stay out of this, as I don't want Sebastian to feel like he couldn't say no to you if he wanted to, for some reason."
Lagan nodded. "I'll talk it over with Chelsea, the director, and let her decide what the best approach is."
"I didn't know you still volunteered there," Nordin said. "Where do you find the time?"
"It's something my firm supports. Every employee gets two hours a week paid to volunteer in a legal aid clinic or something similar. I take off from work every other Thursday afternoon and spend it in the clinic. It's not enough, and I’d love to do more, but that's impossible with my current schedule."
"Yeah, I'll say. How do you even manage to get laid?"
What was up with everybody's interest in his sex life all of a sudden? Was he wearing a sign that said he wasn't getting any or something? Still, he couldn't get upset with Nordin, not when he knew his brother was being genuine. "To be honest, I don't."
Nordin frowned. "You're not hooking up? For how long?"
Lagan shrugged. "I don't know. Couple of weeks. Months, maybe? I don't have the time. Every time I find myself thinking about a hookup, I’m already tired at the idea of having to dress up and prep and get myself ready. It's too much effort."
"Oh my god, that sounds so sad," Jaren said, his eyes wide. "Do we need to stage an intervention?"
Lagan couldn’t hold back the sharp reply on the tip of his tongue. "Not all of us have a rich boyfriend, you know?"
Silence descended, and Lagan immediately regretted his barb. He’d sounded like a jealous asshole, and that wasn’t who he was. At all.
"Are you okay financially?" Nordin asked, a frown marring his forehead.
"I'm a lot better than I was before, thanks to Sebastian and the ridiculously low rent he's charging me."
"If it were up to him, he wouldn't charge you rent at all," Hadley said. “You insisted on paying him."
"Yeah, because otherwise, it would be charity. Just because he's rich doesn't mean he has to pay for everything. I don't want to take advantage of him."
"How would that be taking advantage of him?" Hadley looked puzzled. "He offered it himself. You didn't ask him for it."
"It would still be charity."
"And what is so wrong with that?" Jaren asked. "Not to make this about us, but do you realize how hard it is for us at times to see you struggle and not be allowed to help you?"
"You pay my tuition. How is that not helping me?"
Jaren shook his head. “You helped me pay mine. We agreed you worked so I could go to school, and I would pay your tuition once I had a job. That's not helping you. That's settling a debt."
"But what else would I need?"
"A new car, for starters?" Hadley's tone was sharper than Lagan had expected, betraying his emotions. "You know Bertha needs to go into retirement. Any money you now invest in getting her to run again is wasted."
Lagan's cheeks heated. "I've already sold her to a junk dealer who gave me two hundred bucks for her, which was more than I had counted on.”
"So how are you getting around?" Hadley wanted to know.
"The bus. There's a bus stop one block from my office, and getting to the university is easy as long as I leave on time. It might even save me money."
"I don't like it." Jaren was looking at Hadley and Nordin, and judging by their faces, they agreed with him. "Why not let us buy you a newer car? It doesn't have to be an expensive, brand-new one. Just something reliable so you don't have to depend on public transport. You know that's going to be a pain in the ass in the winter."
"I told you I don't want charity."
Nordin slammed his hand on the table, his eyes spewing fire. “For fuck's sake, Lagan, it's not charity if it comes from your own brothers. You can't expect us to stand by as you struggle and not do a damn thing about it.”
Lagan swallowed, his throat tight. Out of the four of them, Nordin had always been the one with a temper, though it wasn’t easily triggered. Nordin had a point, but how could Lagan accept help from his brothers without losing his self-respect? He'd always needed them, had always leaned on them. He couldn't spend the rest of his life depending on them, especially now that they were establishing families of their own.
One day, Nordin would find someone as well, and his brothers would want to have kids. There was no room for Lagan in that scenario. And he couldn’t afford to have a partner, not when it came at the cost of his dream. He’d have to finish law school first and find a job. Maybe then he’d have time to find someone and settle down.
"You know being independent is important to me," he said softly. "I have to stand on my own two feet, like you all do."
"That's not a fair comparison," Hadley protested. "Until I met Sebastian, I was in the same boat as you. Although in my case, it wasn’t a matter of being independent. I happened to get lucky that I fell in love with a wealthy guy."
"Same." Jaren sighed. "Well, not entirely. My previous job did pay well, but I also had a fiancée to support, and she had expensive habits. Between that and your tuition, Lagan, I didn't have a hell of a lot left either. That only changed because I met Reid."
"How about you, Nordin? Care to enlighten us on where your money is coming from?"
Oh, Lagan was well aware he was hitting below the belt, but he didn't care. His brothers were backing him into a corner, not listening to what he was saying. Why did they keep insisting on him accepting charity when he had made it crystal clear he didn't want it? He didn't need them. He could do it on his own.
Nordin froze, and his expression changed into one Lagan had never seen on his face. So hard, almost cruel. It was like looking at a stranger. "You know there's a reason I keep the three of you out of my business. It's to protect you. If something ever goes wrong, I want you to be able to swear with your hand on a Bible that you didn't know anything, that you had no knowledge whatsoever of my activities."
Lagan's shoulders dropped, and he cringed. Nordin had the ability to make him feel so, so small. “That was out of line. I’m sorry."
The hard look on Nordin's face disappeared as quickly as it had shown up. "I know you didn't mean it. We'll back off, okay?”
“Thank you.”
“Just promise me that you’ll ask for help when you truly need it,” Hadley said. “Don’t allow your pride to make you act stupid and irresponsible.”
Lagan forced a smile. “I promise. I have that credit card Sebastian gave me, remember? The one for emergencies? I don’t know what the limit is on that, but I’m sure it’ll allow me to get a taxi or whatever when I need it.”
Hadley snorted. “Dude, you could buy a car with that and have money left. He put a fifty-thousand-dollar limit on it.”
Lagan gasped. “Is he fucking insane?”
“No, he’s fucking rich. Babe, that money is nothing to him. Absolutely nothing.”
Lagan couldn’t even wrap his head around the truth of that statement. How could one not miss that much money? It was insane. “Don’t expect me to ever max it out.”
Hadley patted his shoulder. “Yeah, I didn’t think you would.”
“How are the studies going?” Jaren asked. Thank god for him changing the subject.
“Good. I finished a group project this week, and we got an A, so that was a welcome surprise.”
“That’s amazing!” Jaren grinned. “Must’ve been a different professor than that guy who hates you so much.”
“It was his class, actually. And even better, he sort of apologized afterward for treating me differently than the others.”
“He did? Holy shit, that must’ve been a shock for you.”
“What made it even more epic was that he’d commented first on this other guy trying to score a hookup with me and that I should focus on my studies and not sex.”
Silence descended. “Hold up.” Nordin frowned. “He remarked on your sex life?”
“He overheard this guy called Morris asking me if I wanted to hook up with him. Professor Evans interrupted us, which chased off Morris. Then he told me I should focus on my academics and not sex. Or something along those lines.”
“That guy is way out of order! What you do in your private time is none of his goddamn business.” Jaren was getting worked up. “You should report him to the school. You could make a case for sexual harassment.”
“Sexual harassment? No, it wasn’t. Inappropriate, yes, but he wasn’t harassing me.”
“But he shouldn’t even have brought it up. How is it okay for a professor to comment on his student’s sexual activities?”
“I set him straight, and then he acknowledged he was out of line. That’s enough for me.”
“It shouldn’t be. You should file a complaint against this guy. What if he does this to another student as well?”
Unexpected anger bubbled up inside Lagan. “He won’t. He’s nothing but professional with everyone else. It’s me he seems to take issue with.”
“Ah.” That one word was thick with meaning, and Lagan frowned. What was Nordin implying?
“What do you mean, ‘ah’?” Jaren asked before Lagan could.
Nordin smiled smugly. “Don’t you see it? The professor has the hots for Lagan.”
What? “Are you out of your fucking mind? He doesn’t have the hots for me. He hates me as much as I hate him.”
“Right, hate. Because we all know hate and attraction can always easily be distinguished. Tell me. Is he straight?”
Was Evans straight? Hell, no. Lagan wasn’t sure what label fitted him, but straight, he wasn’t. “I don’t think he is, but that doesn’t matter. I’m not attracted to him!”
“You sure about that?” Nordin quirked an eyebrow. “I hate to go all ‘thou doth protest too much’ on you, but yeah, that.”
Oh, shit, was he? Evans was hot, no question about it, but Lagan had always told himself the man was a dick, and that had been it. But if he hadn’t been such an ass, would Lagan have been more attracted to him?
He groaned as he buried his head in his hands. “Thanks a lot, dickhead, for putting that image in my head.”
Nordin slapped his back. “Anytime, brother dear. Anytime.”
6
No matter how old one got—if one could call forty-four old—a first day somewhere was always nerve-racking. Even when it was a volunteer position. Killian checked his hair in the rearview mirror of his Porsche, took a deep breath, and got out.
He could tell himself all day long the clinic should be grateful to get his expertise, but that still didn't take away the nerves. But maybe that was also because his previous volunteer experience had ended on such a sour note. Thank god he’d left that place behind him. Wasn’t it sad how one person could ruin an environment completely? Five years, he’d volunteered, and he’d always seen it as valuable and rewarding…until that Scott guy had become the director. Within mere weeks, everything had changed.
He’d debated whether to find a new place to volunteer. With the résumé he had built by now, he didn’t need to anymore. But he liked the work. He liked using his legal expertise to help others, even if it was on a small scale. It brought him more satisfaction than he’d realized before he was considering quitting. The decision to find somewhere else to donate his time had been an easy one.
This legal aid clinic was situated in a little strip mall, a nondescript building in the back, right next to a chiropractor's office and a nail salon. When he walked inside, the scent of lemon cleaner tickled his nostrils. The walls were painted a light yellow, various green plants provided homey accents, and the dark blue carpet was immaculate. One wall held a large framed picture of President Shafer, another several enlarged quotes from the Constitution.
The place looked professional and yet inviting. Small details to others, maybe, but it spoke volumes about the effort they were putting in to make even a free clinic a positive experience for their clients.
"Good afternoon," the guy behind the welcome desk said. "How may I help you?"
“I’m Killian Evans, the new volunteer.”
"Ah, yes. Chelsea told me to expect you. Welcome, and we're so happy to have you. Feel free to grab some coffee or water. I'll ask one of the other volunteers to help you get settled as soon as one becomes available. Right now, they're all in conversations with clients, but it shouldn't take too long. My name is Caleb, by the way."
He extended his hand, and Killian took it, receiving an enthusiastic handshake. "Pleasure to meet you, Caleb."
Caleb laughed. "Oh my god, you're doing that repeating a name thing to remember it, right? I should start doing that. I'm awful with names."
Killian smiled at his exuberance. "It's become a habit of mine over the years. I also teach law school, so I have a lot of names to remember every course."
"Killian, so happy to meet you in person.” Chelsea Geyer, the director of the legal aid clinic, walked up to him, a broad smile on her face. He’d done his volunteer interview with her over Zoom, so they hadn’t met in person yet.
"Thank you. I'm excited to get started."
She gestured, and he followed her, stepping away from the welcome desk. "How did the other clinic react when you told them you wouldn't be volunteering anymore?"
Killian sighed. He’d been open with her about the reasons for his switch, as he had nothing to hide. "Not well. In the exit interview, I made it clear that their lack of inclusivity was the reason for my departure. The director denied any problems and tried to convince me they were LGBT-friendly. The number of homophobic and transphobic remarks I caught over the last six months had already proven the opposite. It’s frustrating to see one man have such a negative impact.”
