by Skyler Snow
Scott looked appreciative of my words. Good, because I meant every bit of it. I was done harboring doubts about them, well, I was working on it as much as I could. I wanted to let that go and just be a part of their lives.
“Well, what about you?” Scott asked. “I know it’s been difficult.”
Was I really getting that obvious?
“Yeah, but Elliot’s his own man now. He can do what he wants.”
“We both know that’s not what we’re talking about.”
Apparently, yes.
We drank our coffee in silence for a moment as I tried to think of something to say. This was nearly the same conversation I had with Tom, but it wasn’t with Tom. It wasn’t with someone who I barely knew. You’ve been getting to know Tom really well. I shook my head now was not the time. But I couldn’t deflect like I had with Tom, Scott was my lifelong friend. He knew everything about me there was to know, well now he did and sometimes he even saw things before I even told him.
I let out a long breath and faced him head on, “Honestly, I’m lonely at home. I’ve got my work, yeah, but it’s…it’s different, it’s so quiet.” It was all I could think of saying and honestly what more was there to say? Scott knew what I meant. He wouldn’t have asked if he hadn’t sensed how things were going for me. Still, I felt kind of pathetic.
“Move here.” Scott said suddenly. “Move out here so you’ll be near us.”
I blinked at him. “What?”
Scott stood up and walked into the kitchen. He came back with the coffee pot before he poured both of us another hot cup. I stared the whole time, even as he mixed in the cream and sugar. I must have heard wrong. He must have said something else.
“Move. Here. Get an apartment in the area. It’ll be better for all of us, I think.” He said it thoughtfully, but I couldn’t see the reasoning in any of it. Scott wasn’t the type to blurt something out but what he was saying was nonsense. I had been in the city for a few weeks, stuffed inside of a hotel room.
“Scott, I’ve got a house. I can’t just drop everything and move to a new city.” I sighed. As enticing and fun as it sounded, it wasn’t realistic.
“Why not? You hate that house, we both know it. You don’t really have a lot you want to keep besides your clothes and a few personal items. You’ve paid it off and if you sell, you can get an apartment here, it’ll probably be easier than maintaining that old wreck. You have people you love here. What’s stopping you?” His voice was steady and soft, like he was talking to a skittish cat, like he knew this was a lot to take, but he never broke eye contact.
He took a sip of coffee, but his eyes on me were unflinching, My god, he was serious. Scott waited with his hands clasped together, waiting for a response.
I was as still as a statue as I thought about what Scott was saying. He was right on every point. It was the house I bought with Elliot’s mother, decades ago. It was too big for me to do anything but feel lonely in, especially now that Elliot was gone. I didn’t use any rooms besides the kitchen, the bathroom and my own bedroom. I had paid off all of it when Elliot was still a teenager and now it was getting to the point where all the wasted up space was leeching my finances with the electricity bills and taxes. But the house had almost doubled in price since I bought it.
And everyone I loved was in this city. Most of my friends were from work, but I worked from home most days. What would be different now, besides the fact that all my meetings would probably end up being virtual?
“Elliot would think I’m hovering.” I tried lamely to change the point because Scott was right. Everything about that house was bad for me. Getting out of it for once had done me a lot of good, even if the trip itself had been a bit stressful.
“Elliot misses you.” Scott said. “Hey,” I glanced up at him. “I miss you. We would love to have you here all the time.”
“You’re fucking insane,” I muttered.
“I’m right, is what I am.” Scott looked over the rim of his coffee cup at me. “And we both know it.”
I bit my lip. Maybe he was right. Besides, what was the point of being my age without having a midlife crisis? I could just see Tom cackling at that, his wide grin and sparkling eyes filled with mischievousness.
Maybe it wouldn’t be such a crazy idea
Scott was right. My home wasn’t in Oklahoma anymore. Elliot was here, Scott was here.
Tom’s here.
Something fluttered in my stomach. It shouldn’t matter if the mischievous little minx would be close, but it did.
It mattered.
15
Tom
Jack had come back. I wasn’t sure why that surprised me but it did. There’d been a part of me that had thought he wouldn’t when I tagged along with Elliot and Scott to drop him off at the airport.
“You know when I said maybe to keep yourself occupied, I wasn’t exactly thinking… this. Don’t get me wrong, it’s pretty cool but I don’t know, I wasn’t expecting it.” I teased. I scanned the apartment. It was still looking pretty bare, but Elliot, Scott and I had been helping him with some actual interior decorating. It wasn’t working, though. Woodworking projects were set up next to paintings that hung next to tables filled with vases of flowers. It looked like some weird sort of abstract installation, but Jack was constantly looking around at all of it and smiling.
“Isn’t that the entire point? Do the unexpected?” He asked. Jack had sold his house, moved into this condo and had gotten settled down in the past week and a half. I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss him when he went back home for a few weeks, but it was still strange that he was back.
Like there was this new layer of expectation and excitement to it.
We were talking every day now, just the two of us usually to make sure that he was doing okay. I was still worried about him. Cos that’s the only reason you’re talking to him. I ignored the mocking voice. I was here to support a new friend, he’d sold his house, his things and now he was in a brand new place. What if his decision had been too sudden and he came to regret uprooting his life?
“Yeah. I told you to get some excitement in your life, but I thought you would pick up golfing or something. All of this seems a little— ” I couldn’t even find the words for it. Jack from the little I knew of him didn’t seem like a spontaneous guy. So I was worried that he would come to regret this. But I seemed to be the only person worried about it. Elliot was too caught up in his excitement, having his dad closer. Scott was the one that had given him the idea in the first place. I hoped I was overreacting, but it didn’t feel like it.
I was the only one still struggling to understand it all. It was partly why we were talking every day now. I thought I was a crazy guy, but Jack seemed bent on beating me now. I could understand why he would want to, but all of it was still so sudden.
Or maybe you can’t comprehend someone’s parent putting them first. I shook off that thought.
“You think too much. Just enjoy the moment. You’re living your golden years, Tom. God knows that mine were wasted.” He sighed wistfully, drinking the rest of his coffee. My own drink was untouched.
“What would you have done? If you were young again?” Even before I was done speaking, Jack seemed to have an answer.
“The million dollar question huh?” Jack had a wistful smile on his lips, “I would have gone on that road trip we always talked about with my friends. Started up that band I was thinking about. Definitely travelled more.” He said it like he had been thinking about it for a while. I nodded, adding it to the ever growing list of things I knew about Jack’s life and past, trying to piece it all together to form that complicated, messy web of facts and histories that made up every person.
“So is this your way of maybe compensating for those lost experiences?” I asked slowly, and hoped he didn’t get offended. Sometimes I wished that my brain to mouth filter was quicker. Jack didn’t look upset at my question, he smiled and was quiet for a moment like he was thinking about it.
&
nbsp; “I don’t think so. I got plenty of excitement back in the day. I would just do more of what I was already doing, honestly.”
“Huh.” It was an unsatisfying answer for some reason. I watched as Jack took more things out and put them out the way he wanted them. We’d gone shopping at a thrift store—my idea—the day before, and he was eager to get the pieces he’d liked up.
“I’m fine,” Jack said, like he was reading my worry for him. “So what’s been going on at work? Anything fun?” Jack not so subtly tried to steer the conversation to a new topic before I could tear myself into shreds trying to figure it out. Not that my brain would get the memo.
Why was I even worried about him, he was a grown man?
Yes, Scott worked from home and his family was here and he hated living in the house that he used to own, but something was missing. Something was gnawing at me, especially when I saw him.
“Work is good. Elliot’s been doing great, honestly. Probably the best since he came here. And commissions are starting to pile up.” I said, biting back on a sigh. Things had been great. So why was I still so anxious?
“Really? Is it because of those little art practice study things you two do together?”
I couldn’t help but smile. Jack was a great guy and he actually paid attention to what we did. Especially when it came to Elliot.
“Yeah. Art studies. They help, definitely.” I drank a little bit of my coffee, just to pretend like I wasn’t still thinking of him. I wasn’t sure what it was about all of this, but it was keeping me up at night. Some weird sort of tugging in my chest that brought me to his condo every day to talk and try to figure more out. That hope that maybe he would slip and say something that would make the picture seem clearer to me.
“What’s the theme this time around?”
“Anatomy.” It was one of the ones we did frequently. With my work in porn commissions and Elliot wanting to improve on anything and everything, human bodies were high up on our list whenever we had to do studies. Elliot always had Scott to draw, himself and me, but I felt a little limited in my options. I drew myself as an example and Elliot and I had similar enough body types that drawing him wouldn’t really be that much practice. I could always ask Scott, but I wasn’t close enough to him for that yet.
“Jack, would you mind modeling for me sometime?”
“Modeling?”
“Some time this week. I’ll tell you when.”
Jack looked taken aback. I fully expected him to say no thank you, but instead he shrugged.
“Alright,” he looked me up and down. “When you’re ready, text me.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I will.”
I sat the coffee cup in the sink and walked out of the condo. Soon, I was going to be able to draw Jack. My stomach flipped and flopped. Now that he was staying, I was glad.
I walked down to my car when I glanced up at his condo. Jack stood in the window, waving at me. I waved back trying to stifle the smile on my lips.
Why couldn’t he stay for me?
16
Jack
“So what type of model am I gonna be? Are you gonna dress me up?” A thought shot through my head as I looked at Tom a little nervously. “Is this one of those drag things? Are you gonna put me in drag?”
“Why? Are you afraid of men dressed up as women?” He asked with a flat voice. Tom was setting up his apartment for the day, before he offered me a chair to sit. Tom put together his drawing station, lighting, and the tools of his craft. It was the quietest and most focused I had seen him since that talk we had in that cafe where I had poured my life out to him and he listened to it all.
“No, I just don’t know if I could stand in heels. I’d probably break my damn ankles and then what? That would suck.” I watched as he pulled out a large sketchbook from his desk and opened it, glancing up at me. Something flickered in his eyes and I was looking at Tom. The Tom I knew.
“You sound like Elliot when he’s nervous. Are you nervous?” He asked. His voice was soft and soothing, but not in the comforting way that he used on me during our little chats and not in that seductive way in the elevator. This was a genuine friendliness that I didn’t see very often. It was like Tom was always hiding it.
“A little,” I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck. “ I’ve never modeled in my life.”
“I can tell. Strip down to your comfort level and we’ll get started.” He was sitting now with his sketchbook on his drawing board, his eyes carefully trained on me. There was that mischievous glint in his eye and I knew he was waiting for a reaction. I wasn’t about to give it to him.
My heart stopped for a moment before beginning to race and my mind went completely quiet for a moment. Strip? Was it this kind of modeling? Of course, he was studying anatomy, but…was this some elaborate prank? Some way to get me flustered again, like on the elevator?
“This is fine, too. It’s all up to you and your personal comfort level.” Tom tilted his head. “Whatever you want to do is fine with me.” It was so unlike him to be so calm that I couldn’t help but be suspicious. But it didn’t seem like he was plotting anything. He looked at me evenly, waiting for me to give him some sort of answer.
Slowly, never breaking eye contact with him, I took off my jacket. That, at least, was reasonable. But I wasn’t wearing much more besides a t-shirt, my jeans, and boxers. I was already starting to get sweaty as I put my jacket over the back of the chair and looked up at Tom, searching his face for something, anything. Approval, disapproval, amusement, even. My questioning eyes were met with nothing but his even, curious gaze.
“I think I’ll stick with this.” I finally said, trying to hide how nervous he was making me.
He nodded, looking me over. “That’s fine. I can work with this.”
I nodded as he shuffled his things around. I glanced at the room. Almost his entire apartment was dedicated to his art in some way. Large bay windows let in natural light, the walls were covered in artwork, mostly from other people and now his entire living room was made into his modeling station.
“So we need a pose now. Do you want to choose it or would you prefer me to choose?” He was walking over to me now with a pencil twirling in his fingers. His eyes scanned me over with a focus that was unsettling. Tom was a talented artist, I knew from what Elliot had told me, but I had never actually seen any of his drawings. Most of the time when we actually spent time together it was just the two of us talking. It was never this intense observation of me.
“You can choose.” I was already overwhelmed after taking off my jacket. My brain would be fried if I tried to think of anything else. I waited for him to tell me what to do. Instead, I felt a hand on my waist and I jumped away, staring at him.
Tom’s brows were raised and his hands were up. With my nerves on edge like this, I wasn’t ready for him to touch me. I just thought he would tell me to sit down or flex or something. His hand on me, even through my clothing, felt like electricity shooting over my skin.
“Are you okay?” He asked. I was still stiff, my muscles tensed. Tom frowned a little. “You don’t have to pose, if you don’t want to.”
I waved a hand after a moment. “I can pose. Just…nervous is all.” I laughed a little. “It’s been a long time since someone touched me that—” I quickly cut off my thoughts. I’d wanted to say that looked like him. Or anyone that made me feel the way that he did. But I wanted to do this for him. Tom had continuously gone out of his way for me.
I didn’t even have the words for what this feeling was. A rush of adrenaline, excitement and lust all mixed into one gut-wrenching feeling that refused to let up. Tom gave me a questioning look before reaching out, his hand moving slowly as if I was a trapped animal. He gently took my hand and led me back into the sunlight.
“Here,” he patted the chair he’d pulled out for me. “Sit down.” Once I got comfortable he reached out, but stopped short. “Is it okay if I touch you?”
I swallowed thickly. “After all the time we’ve sp
ent together and the elevator that one night, why ask me now?”
Tom tilted his head. “Maybe because this is my art, I take it seriously.” he was quiet before he glanced away. “Or maybe I see you as more than a reaction now.”
God, what does he mean by that?
I wanted to ask him so badly, but at the same time I didn’t want to know. I was pretty damn sure that I was jumping to conclusions. Tom and I were friends. That’s all we needed to be. He was one of the few friends I had here.
“Tell me if you’re uncomfortable.” Tom muttered, his blue eyes on mine as he gazed at me. Slowly, his hands began to roam my skin. He turned my arms, tilting my face to one side, gently directing me to twist at the waist. Then, his leg slipped between mine and gently nudged them apart. Every touch was burning through my clothes, lighting my skin on fire. I tried not to move too much, but I found myself turning my head to watch what he was doing.
“Stay still,” Tom chastised me.
He reached up to cup my cheek, gently turning my head back into position. Something about his soft fingertips on my face made me go hot in the face like I was back in high school trying to find the courage to ask that one pretty girl out to prom.
“Perfect.” Tom finally whispered with just the tiniest hint of satisfaction in his voice. I bit my lip, wishing that he was talking about me and not just the pose and lighting. As I took inventory of all my limbs, I realized the pose I was in.
My arms were crossed over my chest, hanging onto the opposite shoulder, like I was hugging myself. All of my weight was on one foot, the other neatly hooked around like I was about to spin. My head was tilted down, but I could still make out Tom from the corner of my eye.
