by Nicky James
“Okay, sweetheart. I’m going to have Anthony buy us tickets, and we’ll try and get out there as soon as possible. If you talk to him, let me know, okay?”
“I will.”
We hung up, and I stared at my phone on the table. “I’m so sorry, Gray. I know that was a low blow, but you are scaring the shit out of me.”
I sent him another text, not expecting results.
Beck: If you don’t want to talk, I understand. Let me know where you are at least. Please don’t do anything stupid.
When my phone pinged, I jumped and snapped it up.
Gray: I’m at home. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. x
Fine according to who? Gray was anything but fine.
* * *
“Have you heard from him?” Maria asked as she folded her body over the counter and squinted at the authentic nautical spyware we’d just got in that dated back to the Civil War. She’d been cleaning it up for display all morning.
“A few random texts. One phone call—which was bitter and angry and more of a promise of retaliation since I called his mother.”
“So he hasn’t shut you out completely.”
“No. I guess not.”
But it still weighed heavy on my heart.
It’d been two miserable weeks, and the limited contact I’d had with Gray was barely enough. It was funny how before his accident, although we’d get together frequently, there would be weeks that would pass where we just didn’t find the time.
Everything was different now.
Maria glanced up from her work and set the tiny cleansing brush on the towel beside her. “Why don’t you just go over there and confront him. Tell him you’re miserable and you need him.”
“I’m not miserable.”
“Ha!” The single syllable erupted with a punch of sarcasm. “Not miserable my ass. You’ve been moping around here for weeks. Go see him.”
“You don’t get it. I’ve known Gray forever. I know how he functions and why he is doing this. I have to respect him and wait him out.”
I dabbed a bit of the refinishing oil onto a cloth and handed it to her to work over the wooden surface.
“Explain.”
“Gray has always been protective of his emotions. He doesn’t like people to see him as weak. I don’t know why. Maybe because his mother hovered over him growing up and the kids at school would tease him. So, he has this need to always be the man, you know? Even around me.”
Maria huffed and rolled her eyes as she worked. “Why do men do that? Insist on being all macho? So he’s run away to lick his wounds?”
“He’s run because he needs time to get a handle on all this. For a month or more before that appointment, he was breaking down on me daily. Daily! Or multiple times a day. Then to hear the doctor label him with one thing after another and shove pills in his face… Yeah, I’m pretty sure it was the straw that broke the camel’s back.”
“The what?”
“It was all he could take.”
“But you’re his boyfriend, aren’t you? He shouldn’t abandon you, much less be afraid to be emotional in front of you.”
I sighed and leaned on the counter. “I don’t know what I am, to be honest.”
“How can you not know? You were sleeping together, weren’t you?”
Heat filled my face, and I busied myself with an open box of cleaning supplies.
“Beck? Ah, is it still hard to admit you like boys?
“No. Yes. I don’t know. Yeah, we were sleeping together, but we never actually discussed what was happening. I know Gray’s wanted this for a long time. Or at least that was my understanding. And I know I was confused for a bit, but… I’m not confused now. I know I want to be with him. I’m not ashamed. With everything else going on, I guess I don’t really know where I stand.”
Maria put the cloth down and faced me, arms crossed as she studied my face. “If Gray has loved you forever, that isn’t going to change. He’ll sort himself out.”
“I hope so.”
Her gaze was penetrating. When her lips quirked into a smile, I knew something was coming.
“You guys make an adorable couple.”
“Shut up and do your job. I object to being called adorable, and I know Gray would too, so I speak for both of us.”
“Whatever. You’re adorable.” She returned her attention to the spyware and left me to my inner musings.
That night, as I lay in my suddenly too large and too empty bed, I sent Gray a text. Getting an answer was always hit or miss.
Beck: How you holding up?
I set my phone down as I waited for a reply and watched Ringo slink through the darkness and plant himself on top of my dresser. It was his new favorite place to creep me. I got the feeling he was wondering where Gray was at these days. Gray had brought out a side of my cat I never knew existed.
I added a second text to the first.
Beck: I think Ringo misses you.
I know I do, I thought.
With the curtains open, the streetlights highlighted the furniture and walls. Before Gray, I’d always needed complete darkness to sleep. Now, if I pulled the blinds closed, I’d remember how uneasy Gray would become. So I left them open, wishfully thinking he might return in the night and crawl into bed beside me. Wrap his hard body around mine and soothe my aching heart.
The digital clock shone, its green numbers announcing the time. Twelve-oh-seven. Another reminder of Gray. Visions returned of watching him sleep, tucked up beside that clock with his watch in his hand. Flashes of memories surfaced of the nights we’d shared in this bed, exploring something so brand new to both of us.
My phone pinged.
Gray: He’s not as evil as you think. Misunderstood really.
Beck: He’s been stalking me since you left. Probably thinks it’s my fault.
After a long stretch of time with no answer, I sent another text, yearning for some kind of connection, begging in the only way I knew how for Gray to fill the hollowness inside my chest.
Beck: Are your parents still there?
Gray: Of course they’re still here. My mother won’t leave me alone. I don’t know what you told her, but I can barely piss without an audience.
I chuckled but felt reassured that at least someone was looking out for him.
Beck: Can you talk?
A pause.
Gray: I’m pretty tired actually. Another night.
Beck: Okay. I’m gonna hold you to that. Goodnight G.
Gray: G’nite.
As I reached to set my phone on the bedside table, it pinged again.
Gray: <3
A tiny little emoji heart, but it was enough to loosen the ache a fraction. I smiled.
* * *
“Got plans for tonight?” I asked Maria as she swung her purse over her shoulder.
I’d just locked the door to the shop. It’d been a slow day. Summers were unpredictable. Tourists came in waves. If we weren’t worked off our feet, doing walkthroughs, guiding tours, and answering questions, we were staring at the walls and listening to the crickets who’d snuck in somehow and hid beneath the furniture.
“It’s Friday night. I always have plans. Met this guy, Norton. We’re going to dinner and a movie. You?”
“I don’t know. Thought I’d go grab a beer somewhere. I’m getting tired of sitting around by myself at night.”
Maria paused and examined me skeptically. “You aren’t going out to hook up, are you?”
“No.” It was a half-hearted answer, and she caught the hesitation in my tone.
“Beck, are you giving up?”
“No. It’s just lonely at night. All I do is think. I can’t sit around and do that anymore. I’ll drive myself crazy.”
The weight of missing Gray was crushing the life out of me.
“Where are you going?” Maria asked.
“I don’t know. I haven’t decided.”
“Why not invite Gray to join you?”
“He w
on’t come.”
“You don’t know that.”
I didn’t for sure. We’d talked a bit more recently, but he was still staying away. A small part of me was irritated. My whole life was upside down because of him. I’d had more time to consider my sexuality than I cared for, and I’d been wondering a lot lately if Gray was the only guy who could make me feel these things or if I had opened a long-closed vault door and would see other guys that way too.
Gray owned my heart. I had no intention of exploring other men. It was simple curiosity. Self-awareness in a way. Wanting to understand who I was.
When I needed reassurance the most, he couldn’t be there for me.
Then, I hated myself for being selfish. My problems were nothing compared to his.
Maria and I said goodbye, and I went upstairs to find some dinner. I microwaved leftover chicken from the night before and picked at it while I considered a night out. No, I didn’t want to pick up, but I did have some curiosity I wanted to examine.
After dinner, I showered, shaved, and dressed in a nice pair of jeans and a tight black T-shirt. I fixed my curls into something resembling order and cleaned my glasses before heading out.
Instead of driving, I walked toward downtown, aiming for the one place I always used to hate going. The one place Gray dragged me to on occasion.
It was still early when I entered Limbos—one of Dewhurst’s gay bars that had recently changed ownership and names. The crowd was scarce, but over the following hour or so, I knew it would fill up fast. I’d been there before on a Friday night when it used to be Bottoms Up. Those encounters always ended with me getting hit on by some random gay man, Gray laughing it up, and us escaping to another bar.
I was curious how I’d feel if that happened now.
Sitting at a quiet table on the ground level, I scanned the dimmed floor and noted the few customers already present. I set my phone on the table in front of me and spun it as I considered opening the invitation to Gray.
A bartender I vaguely recognized approached and flashed me a devilish smile before winking. “What can I get you, sugar?”
The tips of his hair were bleached out, and he wore dark liner around his eyes. He was small for a guy. Gray would call him a twink. For a beat, I examined him, trying not to feel self-conscious as I visibly checked him out. Nothing. Not a hint of desire rolled through me, and when I caught his knowing smile, I cut my eyes to my phone.
“Pint of Keith’s please,” I mumbled.
He shot off to grab my drink, and to solidify my conclusion, I glanced at his ass. Definitely no urge to fuck him. Maybe I was solely attracted to guys like Gray. Built. Sturdy. Solid.
I scanned, but no one fizzled my blood to life.
The bartender returned with my beer and leaned on the table for a minute, eyeing me. “All alone tonight, sweetheart?”
“Yeah. I guess.”
He patted my shoulder and winked, leaning in close as he spoke in my ear. “I’ll be around if you need anything. Just give me a little wave.”
He disappeared behind the bar just as an older guy came down from the second level. He had salt and pepper hair and a shit load of tattoos like Gray. He was a lot older, but he clearly took care of his body. His clothes fit tight, accentuating his muscles. Still, I didn’t have any sexual reaction to him.
He sauntered over to the bar, and the tiny little twink bartender greeted him with a kiss—one that turned erotic enough, I had to look away. I got the hint they were together.
As I drained my beer and started into a second, more people arrived. There were a number of different types of men, and I studied them all, searching for any hint of excitement or desire as I waited for my dick to take notice.
It was pointless. The only time I felt anything close to desire was when I thought of Gray.
“Fuck it.”
I picked up my phone and connected a call. Lately, I always texted Gray first, but I didn’t want to dance around him right now. I needed direct. I needed my best friend.
“Hello?” Wariness laced the single word, but I ignored it.
“What if I’m not bisexual. I can’t find a single guy who does to me what you do to me, do you know that?”
There was an extended pause before, “Are you looking?”
“Only because I am trying to figure myself out.”
The bartender snuck up beside me. “Another drink, honey?”
“Um…not yet. Thanks.”
“Where are you?” Gray asked as the pretty boy wandered off.
“Out. I’m tired of sitting home by myself worrying about you and wondering if you’re doing okay. I know why you shut me out, but it’s not fair, Gray.”
“I’m sorry.” He sighed. “I’m just trying to find my way again.”
“I know. But you left me hanging. While you’ve been dealing with your shit, I’ve been dealing with a bunch of my own. It’s not easy finding out you’re gay when you’re thirty.”
“I wouldn’t consider you to be gay.”
“Well, I’m not so sure bisexual fits either. There isn’t a single guy in this bar who is doing anything for me. I’m suffering from a serious case of limp dick right now.”
“Please tell me you aren’t at a gay bar.”
I pinched my lips closed and fought off a grin. “Jealous?”
“Beck? Are you at Bottoms Up?”
“I believe they call it Limbos now.”
“Jesus.”
“Will you join me? Come have a drink with me. I fucking miss you. It’s been over a month.”
The long stretch of silence was ugly and depressing because it answered my question before Gray said a single word.
“I can’t,” he mumbled. “I’m not supposed to drink with all these fucking drugs I’m on. Being there would be too tempting. The last thing I want to do is go backwards.”
“Gray, I need to see you. That’s enough of this bullshit. We can go somewhere else. Anywhere. I don’t care. You’re killing me.”
“How about…” He blew out a breath. “Why don’t you come over Sunday night. I’ll make dinner. Maybe… maybe you can spend the night? If you want.”
The air left my lungs with a whoosh of relief, and I sagged in my seat. “I’ll be there. What time?”
“Come after work.”
“Thanks, Gray.”
“Oh, and Beck?”
“Yeah.”
“Go home! You at a gay bar all alone makes me uncomfortable. I know the power of a pickup line. I’ve been snagged into my share of washroom hookups in that bar. You’re too vanilla for that shit.”
“Oh yeah? What you should be saying is that hooking up with another guy might piss my boyfriend off.”
“That too. He is kinda jealous.” I could hear the smile in his voice, and it was refreshing.
“I’m leaving. I’ll see you Sunday.”
“Sunday.”
We hung up, and I waved the bartender down so I could pay my tab. An element of peace settled inside me. Whatever the reason behind my attraction and connection with Gray, I no longer felt it needed to be examined.
I needed to just go with it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Grayson
“Reminds me of when you were sixteen.” My dad chuckled as I brought the truck to a jerking stop beside his rental and shifted it into park.
The window was rolled down, letting in the hot summer breeze, and I glared at where he stood on the grass with his arms crossed. I’d been driving up and down my long driveway, trying to get a handle on left-foot pedals.
“Just another element of relearning my life. Must we rub it in?”
Dad opened the door for me as I carefully maneuvered out of the seat.
The front lawn was filled with stationary construction vehicles. The workers were all off for the weekend. I absorbed the peaceful quiet while I could because Monday morning at eight a.m., the pounding, drilling, nerve-rattling sounds of renovation would fill the air once more.
&nb
sp; Dad eyed the house and tipped his chin at the front door. “You think she’s ready?”
“Packed? Yes. Ready to admit I’ll be fine on my own and that she can leave? Never.”
Dad chuckled as he clasped my shoulder and aimed me toward the house. “Oh, son, she loves you. You are her sole focus in life. The day you left home was the day her world collapsed.”
“I know. It’s not that I don’t love her too, she just forgets I’m not ten anymore.”
“You’ll always be a little boy in her eyes.”
We went inside and found my mother organizing suitcases at the bottom of the staircase, mopping at her teary eyes with a tissue.
When she saw us, she crossed the room and took me into a crushing hug. “You call me anytime. Anytime, Grayson. Do you hear me?”
“I will.”
“Take your pills, and don’t skip on your appointments.”
“I want to get better, Mom. Trust me.”
She pulled back from the hug and held my face between her hands. “Give Beck our love and tell him we are so thrilled.”
“I will. He’s coming over for dinner tonight.”
“I love that boy, too. Both of you. Don’t be a stubborn man. Let him help you out or, God help me, I will fly back here and make your life miserable.”
I chuckled and tugged her back into a hug. “At least I come by my stubbornness honestly.”
“I’ll take these to the car while you two say goodbye.” Dad scooped up the pile of luggage and made his way back out the door.
“Keep me posted on the construction. It’s looking good. Your house will be even better once they’re done,” Mom said.
“Yeah, I’m pleased with it so far.”
My gaze fell to the back of the house and the doorway leading to the kitchen. A lot of the interior had been damaged by the tree and rain, but slowly it was looking like a home again. The upstairs washroom was getting a complete makeover. My parents had insisted on pitching in so I could have a large whirlpool tub installed along with all the adaptions that would make self-care easier.
