CHASE HAD been at it for a few hours, and the background was almost finished when Garrett stirred.
“It’s dark.” Garrett didn’t sound surprised.
“Yeah.”
Garrett hadn’t sounded particularly awake either, but Chase hurried to clean his brush and pack up enough to join him. Garrett didn’t say anything else, but Chase didn’t think he’d fallen back to sleep.
“How do you feel?” Chase slipped into bed and gathered Garrett into his arms. He caressed Garrett’s cheek, barely restraining himself from kissing him before he could answer.
“Good. Great.”
Chase tasted salt on his lips. Garrett being overly emotional after an art marathon wasn’t anything new, but since they’d talked about his anxiety, Chase felt more protective than he had before. “Are you sure?”
“I’m so happy, Chase. I love you.”
“Love you back.” Chase cuddled him close and waited for him to drop off again. It hadn’t been anywhere near long enough, and Chase wasn’t going to ignore the simple fact that Garrett needed sleep. Even if he could have done anything more, which his body wasn’t up for at the moment.
After a long time, Garrett said, “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
Garrett snorted softly and then snuggled against Chase’s chest to soften the message.
“Yeah. Go ahead.”
“When we started… did you think we’d still be together after ten years?”
“Is this a trick question?” Chase petted Garrett’s hair and didn’t stop even when he realized he was trying to lull him back to sleep.
“No. What I’m really asking, though, is did you ever see yourself with someone like me?”
“What do you mean? Someone hot—”
“No. I mean the age difference.”
“So you mean someone more mature than me. Smarter and more talented.”
“What? You’re joking. No… you’re not joking.”
Garrett had started to sound more awake, and Chase searched for something to say that would swing it back the other way and let him go back to sleep.
“At first, before I really knew you, I was afraid I’d be too immature for you and you’d be done fast. But you’re not. I’m not.” Garrett giggled softly as he yawned and wrapped one arm around Chase’s waist, snuggling against his chest. “Not immature, but you see the world in a different way than everyone else. And you’re not freaked out by my work habits.”
After a few minutes of silence Chase relaxed again. Garrett threw his leg over Chase’s and rubbed their bare feet together. As tempting as it was to skip to the sex, Chase’s body wasn’t cooperating. He’d just thought that Garrett must be disappointed when he said, “And for the record, you’re not saying anything like that again. I’m not smarter or more talented than you. If I thought I could make it happen, I’d keep you from even thinking that again.”
Chase couldn’t move—could barely think and wouldn’t have been able to speak if he’d known how to answer that, but Garret saved him.
“How long was I at it?”
“Up? Or working?” Chase wouldn’t allow himself to think about how relieved he was that Garrett had dropped the previous thread.
“Working.”
“Almost forty hours.”
“Is any of it any good?”
“Yeah. Do you remember talking about having prints made of the charcoal series?”
“Hmm… yes.” Garrett sighed, and Chase wasn’t sure what was behind it. “I’m sorry.”
“Go back to sleep.”
“The night of the brewfest. I should have stayed. You asked me to stay but I left.”
“It’s okay. I understand.”
“I’m sorry I’m so bad for you. I want to be good—”
“Hey. You are.” Chase couldn’t see him well in the dim room, but he turned Garrett’s face up anyway. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Garrett. I know, it’s trite and a cliché, but it’s true. Now stop worrying, and go back to sleep.”
“You’ll stay with me?”
“’Til the end of days, babe.”
Seconds later Garrett relaxed back into sleep, his warm breath puffing across Chase’s chest as he snored softly. Despite how much that conversation had stirred up for Chase, he followed shortly thereafter.
WHEN GARRETT woke him with a cheerful snicker, muttering something about molesting him before taking Chase’s cock in his mouth, Chase was prepared for another kind of marathon. Garrett sucked and licked and kissed him everywhere, they made out and frotted like the first time—but they didn’t fuck.
They didn’t always fuck—in fact, the frequency had steadily declined after the first three or so years they’d been together and been virtually nonexistent in the past two—but this was supposed to be different. After an art marathon Garrett always fucked him.
I can’t say that anymore.
It’s finally happened. He doesn’t want me like he used to. I’m getting too old for him.
Chapter Sixteen
GARRETT WAS more than disappointed when Jess cancelled their dinner plans—with a text, for the third time. He was a little angry. He felt lied to and manipulated, even if he wasn’t exactly sure what he felt manipulated into doing—or out of, for that matter. As long as Jess hadn’t gotten back together with Cleo, he could probably forgive any reason she would have, if not for the hurt look in Chase’s eyes. He thought it was his fault, that much was clear, but Garrett couldn’t figure out how to get that information out of him.
Um… maybe I’ll ask him.
He stopped rolling his eyes at himself when he realized that could set off some dizziness. It hadn’t happened since that night in the bar, and he hadn’t had any headaches either, though, so maybe it wouldn’t happen again.
Chase was working in the bedroom, and it didn’t look like he was working on another cookie-cutter landscape. He hadn’t gotten very far, but all the trees had a surreal feeling, almost like they were vibrating instead of rooted to the ground. The sight excited him, but when Chase felt him watching and looked over his shoulder, his eyes still looked hurt.
“Can we talk a minute?” Garrett asked, before he could let himself wiggle out of it.
The fear didn’t vanish when Chase nodded. If anything, it grew. “Do I need to sit for this?”
“No. It’s nothing serious.” Garrett sat on the bed, facing Chase’s sweet naked ass. He didn’t look too thin anymore, not like when he was driving the pedicab—he looked hotter than ever. “I just wondered if you’re still okay with Jess maybe moving in. We could probably swing the payments on our own….”
Chase smiled, covered his palette, and put down his brush. “I’m sorry tonight’s dinner got cancelled.” Chase sat beside Garrett, close but not touching. “I’m disappointed too, but not ready to give up on her. Did she say why?”
“No. She’s not usually unreliable. I’m guessing it’s either work- or sex-related.”
“I hope for her sake it’s not work-related.” Chase’s smile was a little naughty, but he wiped that away fast. “Unless she needs the money.”
“It wouldn’t hurt if she got an extra shift. Her apartment is small, but it’s not exactly cheap. Especially for what it is.”
“A studio, right?”
“Yeah. Not a very big one either. I think it’s as big as the front bedroom, but that’s including a little bathroom and kitchen area. I don’t see why she’s dragging her feet so hard.”
“I’m sorry if it’s because of me. I like her, but she might still be upset about me swooping in and… well, you know.”
“What do you mean?”
Chase looked like he wanted to go back to work, or do anything else except answer that question. “Well. She told me you two were… going out before we met.”
“Oh really? What else did she say?” Garrett did his best to not get wound up, but he could only imagine what she might have said. He loved Jess but also knew
her, and her propensity for melodrama.
Garrett counted to ten before he said another word, hoping that would help but not betting on it. He could barely remain sitting to listen. But he also knew Chase. If he could keep from saying anything long enough, he knew Chase would tell him what he wanted to know.
It didn’t take as long as he’d thought.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea. I don’t…. She didn’t say anything bad. It’s not a huge surprise to me that you wanted to get out of your mom’s apartment. I have met her.”
“She said that? That I started seeing you to get out of my mom’s apartment?”
Chase didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. His look of near panic was enough.
Garrett stood and walked down the hall toward the front door. He was so angry he couldn’t speak. He’d reached the living room when Chase grabbed his arm.
“What are you doing?”
“I’ll be back. I need—”
“Don’t leave. Please. It’s okay. I don’t—”
Garrett palmed Chase’s shoulder and squeezed. He’d meant it to be gentle but apparently was angrier than he’d thought. Chase winced in pain, and Garrett quickly released him and strode to the door.
“Gare, please don’t leave.” His voice shook, but Garrett couldn’t stop himself.
“I have to. I said I’d be back.” Garrett retraced his steps, kissed Chase quick, hoping to take the sting out of the way he’d just snapped at him, and left. He couldn’t wait for the elevator, and as he ran to the stairwell, he heard Chase calling after him.
It seemed to take forever to reach Jess’s building. At least he got lucky and someone had propped the front door open. Technically that kind of thing could get a person evicted, but he’d never heard of it actually happening. Still angry, even after the forty-minute ride from the Pearl, he ran up the stairs and used his key to open her door. She shouted something incoherent as someone else pulled the sheet up over their head.
Garrett started yelling before he’d completely closed the door. “What the fuck did you think you were doing, telling Chase I just wanted to get out of my mom’s apartment? It’s bad enough you keep dumping us, cancelling dinner with a text—after the time you said you’d show—but now—”
It took a while for Jess to grab a blanket and wrap it around herself, but once she did, she also found her voice. “What in fucking hell is this? Get the fuck out of my apartment, but first give me my goddamn key back.”
“So who is that cowering under the sheet? Cleo? You’re fucking her instead of coming to dinner? How is that smart, Jess? She’d better fucking hide from me.”
“Get the fuck out. Seriously, Garry, just fucking leave.”
“I’ll leave. Just don’t fuck with us anymore, Jess. I mean it.” Garrett left, slamming the door, but by the time he made it to the elevator, he felt like a huge dick. The feeling only got stronger when he reached the ground floor and Jess burst out the stairway door, wearing only the blanket.
“Hey! Stop right there, Frisch.”
He stopped and turned, more in self-defense than any desire to hear what she had to say. I deserve to get decked, but she probably won’t. “I’m sorry I barged in on you. I didn’t know you were seeing anyone. Sorry I’m such a dick.”
“If you need to stay, come back up. I would have told you about—but it’s a little complicated. Maybe.”
Garrett smiled, and if she’d been dressed he would have hugged her. The look on her face said it was good-complicated, serious-complicated, and except for the not-insignificant fact that she hadn’t told him about it, he was happy for her.
“I’m good. I’m going home. But thanks.”
Jess hugged him with one arm, even though she knew it would make him uncomfortable. At least she didn’t give him any grief for that attitude—his idea that sleeping in the same bed was okay, but touching without being fully clothed made him squirm. “I’m glad to hear that. If I said anything to leave Chase with the impression you only wanted him to get free of your mom, I’m sorry. I like Chase. You need to do right there, sweetness.”
“I know. I will. Will you call me when you can make dinner?”
“Yeah. Tell Chase I’m sorry?”
“Okay.” Garrett looked around the lobby, at the peeling paint and chipped tiles beneath their feet. “Maybe you should go back upstairs. You’re not exactly dressed for—”
“Yeah. Be careful going home.”
Garrett promised to do that and left. Unfortunately, a car blocking the MAX tracks kept him from getting home for the next two hours. He texted Chase about the delay but didn’t get any answer. Just as he was about to get off the train and run home—which might have been faster if he’d done it an hour earlier—it stopped crawling from one station to the next and traveled across the river at a normal speed. Garrett raced down the hall a little over three hours after he’d left the building, only to find the condo dark and silent and empty.
He looked in every room—even the main bathroom, which hadn’t been used since Kyle moved out—but knew he wouldn’t find anyone. The condo had felt too still and lifeless for Chase to be there. He paced the living room as he tried texting Chase again, but still got no answer.
Before going out to try and find him, Garrett decided to put on a long-sleeved shirt in case it took a while, and something about the canvas on Chase’s easel caught his attention. When he’d run through on his frantic search of the empty condo, he hadn’t noticed the canvas hadn’t been facing out. Or the fist-size hole in the center. Gingerly Garrett lifted it and turned it around. Something about the smeared paint and the ragged hole scared the crap out of him.
How did he even do that?
The beautifully surreal park was ruined. If Garrett hadn’t been so afraid for Chase in that moment, he would have been heartbroken. He carefully returned the canvas to its spot on the easel and then hauled ass out of the condo.
Three bars later, Garrett found Chase sitting at a table with two men he’d never seen before. They were talking and laughing, but as Garrett crossed the room toward them, he heard an edge to their voices. Something he hadn’t heard since he was a boy and his mother’s boyfriend-du-jour was around, drunk and spoiling for a fight. Or a violent fuck.
Chase sat against the wall but didn’t see Garrett until he stood beside the table.
“There you are.” He dropped a hand onto Chase’s shoulder and squeezed, trying to get his attention. “I texted you.”
Slowly Chase swung his focus away from the two men. “Gare?”
“Come on, let’s go home.”
“Maybe later.” Chase drank from a tall glass that smelled like it was filled with pure alcohol. “I don’t like home right now.”
“Come on.” Garrett slid his hand along the back of Chase’s neck and then under his arm, hoping to get him onto his feet.
“No. Not now,” Chase slurred. He sounded like he’d been drinking the whole time Garrett had been sitting on trains and behaving like a complete ass.
One of the other men turned in his chair to face Garrett. He looked bigger than either he or Chase, and stockier too—not all of it muscle, but enough to be slightly intimidating. “Let him alone. If he wants to stay, that’s his business. Maybe you should go home.”
The only sane thing to do seemed to be to get Chase out of there as quickly as possible, but if he didn’t want to go, there might not be much Garrett could do about it. He wasn’t a lot smaller than Chase, but enough so he might not be able to muscle him out of that chair. When he was manhandling Chase in the bedroom he had a willing participant, and that had a lot to do with the level of success Garrett was used to enjoying. He hadn’t wished for more height and strength in a long time, and the fact that he did so right then felt pretty crappy.
“Come on, Chase. Let’s go home.”
The man who had told Garrett to leave grabbed Garrett’s arm and pulled, and that got Chase’s attention. He practically leaped to his feet, shouting.
“Don’t touch him! Get your goddamn hands off him! I’ll fucking kill you—”
Chase pushed Garrett backward when he surged forward to protect him. The drunk stranger and his friend both stood and moved toward Chase, and the three came together with a sloppy crash, pushing and shoving and not getting off a single punch, but bouncing off the table. And landing on the floor with Garrett at the bottom of the pile.
Garrett wanted to shout for them to get off, or at least groan in pain, but didn’t have the air to so much as squeak. Luckily some of the other patrons jumped in to unstack the others and allow him to breathe again. The bartender helped Garrett to his feet and asked if he was okay. He said he was but knew he’d have a bruise the next day from someone’s elbow or head connecting with his cheekbone.
“If you’re both okay, I think it’s time you got Chase home.”
“I agree. Thanks, Kel.”
Chase looked a little dazed but was probably just trashed. He let Garrett lead him out, and they barely made it back to the condo before he fell asleep. When he stumbled on the smooth, even carpet in the living room, Garrett steered him toward the couch. He slept there, and Garrett curled up in the chair nearest Chase’s head. He couldn’t bear the thought of seeing the ruined canvas again. He thought about getting rid of it so Chase wouldn’t have to see it either, but that didn’t feel right, so he left it.
The next thing he knew, Chase stood over him, gingerly touching his face.
“Oh, babe, I’m so sorry. I—did this happen in the bar?”
“Yeah. It’s okay.” Garrett smiled and captured Chase’s hand. He tried to hide that he’d done it to stop Chase from touching his sore face by kissing his hand. The way Chase’s frown deepened said he hadn’t been slick enough.
“I never should have gone out. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m fine. It was just an accident.”
Chase paled, and Garrett wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d had to run to throw up.
“Are you okay?” Garrett stood when Chase started to sway on his feet. “You look like you’re about to be sick.”
Art House Page 14
