by Clare London
“I can see he looks after you.”
Mark snickered. “And I look after him in return! If you had any idea what games we play in our private moments—”
I coughed, too loudly, and Mark caught my drift. Flushed and still smiling, he leaned over and unexpectedly planted a kiss on my mouth. It was firmly lip-locked, with no suggestion of anything really sexual. But he lingered probably longer than Edward would have liked. He pulled away just as abruptly, his eyes wide and his cheeks so pink he looked like a cartoon character.
“Goodbye until the next time, Daniel. And Nick, of course.” He started to back away, obviously keen to get back to the house. “I hope you find the same joy in your life, Daniel. Believe me, I’ve never been happier.” His smile was radiant and genuine. “Never happier!”
MARK WAVED from the doorway until we were out of sight around the corner. Then I asked Nick to pull over and park for a moment at the side of the road. The engine was still running, and I just sat there, breathing heavily.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“God. That couple… God.”
“Need to breathe some fresh air?” he asked dryly.
“You felt the same?”
“Well, they were charming and welcoming—and pretty impossible.”
“God, yes. There’s happily settled, and there’s suffocation.”
Nick laughed and leaned back in his seat. I found myself watching the gentle throb of his throat as he swallowed. “It was great to see a couple so devoted and a part of their community. They’ve got a lot of good in their life.”
“But it’s all wrapped up in each other. They’re everything to each other, with no room for anything else. I’ve never thought that’s particularly healthy. To say nothing of the rather creepy way Edward watched everything Mark did.”
“And Mark accepted it all.” Nick glanced at me, a slight frown on his brow.
“Well, whatever their weird ways, I’m really pleased we found him settled.” I glanced at my watch. “Wow. It’s later than I thought.”
“And that liqueur was really strong.”
“We should… I should find somewhere to stay over.”
Nick nodded. “So should I.” He ran a hand through his hair.
There was a moment between us as we both took a breath and tried to clear obviously dry throats. Then I laughed aloud. “Stupid!”
“What?”
“It’s stupid, the way I’m skirting around this.”
“Yeah?” Nick smiled at me. “So am I, it seems.”
“I want to stay overnight somewhere, and be with you.”
“Ditto.” Nick leaned over to the passenger seat and kissed me. His lips felt alive, compared to Mark’s cool, rather sterile farewell. “Let’s find a room.”
THE HOTEL was a small one, just off the A3, catering mainly to business travellers, but it looked perfect for our one-night stay. Nick encouraged me to book a double room while he went to find out if they were still serving food. The bedroom was clean and tastefully decorated, and we dropped off our bags and had a quick wash and brush-up. The hotel had agreed to extend the dining room opening hours by thirty minutes so we could eat, which was very welcome.
But an odd tension grew between us. I had no idea what went wrong between that kiss in the car and sitting down in the hotel restaurant for some supper, but Nick was obviously uncomfortable. He shifted too much in his seat, couldn’t make a quick decision on the menu, and wouldn’t meet my eyes as often as he had before. I didn’t think it was nervousness about sleeping together—after all, he’d been the one insisting on a double rather than a twin room—but what else could it have been? I realised, maybe for the first time, that I’d only just met Nick Carson and knew very little about him, let alone what might upset or please him.
The food was good, but we were almost silent through the soup and the first glass of wine. The room was nearly deserted, our orders the last of the night; the only other diners were already finishing their coffee. I returned to the topic of our afternoon at Mark and Edward’s.
“When we drove away, it felt like escape. I mean, I was glad to see him, and I hope we keep in touch, but I couldn’t wait to get away from that house. It was like gay Good Housekeeping.”
Nick’s snort was loud enough to draw a brief, curious glance from the other table. “It was just a modest, suburban family life, Dan. Lots of people live like that. Mark told us he’s very happy with it.”
“But it’s like a prisoner’s comfort, isn’t it? He’s trapped there, in that rigid schedule, that narrow community, not daring to step outside of the box.”
“I don’t think he’d see it like that.” Nick’s voice had become very low and tight.
“What’s the matter?” I peered at him, but he wasn’t meeting my eyes again. He wasn’t eating much of his steak either.
“People have different ideas of happiness, Dan, of what their destination is in life. Mark and Edward’s was rather intense, I agree, but I’m happy to respect that. After all, most of us are after a destination of our own. Our own happy ending.”
“I’m not so sure about that!”
I hadn’t meant to speak so loudly, and Nick frowned.
“We should keep our voices down.”
A prickle of warning ran down my back. Was this the start of an argument? “I’m sorry, but I still disagree with you.”
“Well, I don’t necessarily mean Mark’s happy ending. But one of your own kind. That’s what you want as well, isn’t it?”
“No,” I said. “I don’t know.”
Had he heard scorn in my tone when we talked about Mark’s life? Defensiveness? Pity? Maybe I didn’t know how I felt myself.
“I’m not sure I believe in happy endings, Nick. You’re entitled to your opinion, but I’m after something more. I’m in a rut at work, have my fair share of household debts, and I’ve just finished with a long-term boyfriend. I want to taste some freedom for a while, however short.”
I’d been with Eric for all that time until I realised we were friends, and just that. I was pretty sure I knew the difference now between that and a lover. I’d never felt that sick unease in the pit of my stomach before, when I wasn’t sure whether love or hate were uppermost during an argument—the physical sexual passion that would make your head spin if you gave in to it; the partisan pride in what your partner did; the desire to be with him for as much time as possible, to make things easy for him, to adventure with him. That’s what I imagined love would be, and it definitely wasn’t anything like Eric had offered or the regimented life I’d seen at Mark’s.
That was steady, as Alice would say.
The waitress cleared away our plates, with Nick’s dinner only half-eaten. I waved away dessert and coffee, and so did he. We each put down enough notes to cover our share of the bill and stood, ready to leave the room. No one else was there by now.
“I want it,” Nick said, breaking into my thoughts.
“Sorry?”
“I want a happy ending.” His face flushed. “One day, anyway. I want to settle, to find a lifestyle I enjoy, that I can share with a partner. I think you were too harsh about Mark and Edward’s life when it’s just the way they’ve chosen.”
Anger curled the edges of my words. “You want the neighbourhood watch, the golf club, the Sunday lunches?”
“Maybe not all that, but why not?” He’d raised his voice by now as well. “It’s natural. You’re implying it’s some kind of weakness, that it’s selling out. I believe you can have both adventure and familiarity with someone.”
“It just feels alien to me. More compromise than closeness. And that’s even if you believe it’s on offer for everyone.” The glimpse into Mark’s married life had made my stomach turn, and I blamed that on the routine it followed. How boring would that be? No better than the years stretching ahead of me if I’d continued dating Eric. Friday nights at the local pub, a movie once a month, little to look forward to except possible promotion, meagre pa
y rises, a new paint job in the lounge, replacing the guttering on my roof, upgrading my TV. Shouldn’t there be more to life than that?
Nick nodded slowly as if I’d confirmed something he already thought. “So you don’t think it’s there for you? Is this really about being gay?”
“No, of course not.” I was bloody angry. He made me feel raw and off balance, unlike anyone I’d ever known. And he made me feel guilty about my reaction to Mark’s marriage. “I don’t think you’re the one to talk about being gay.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
I should have heeded the warning in his voice, but I didn’t. “You’re not totally out, are you?”
“Of course I am. I sucked your cock last night, remember?”
I winced at the fury in his hissed words, suddenly very glad we were the last diners of the night, and said, “You sent me to reception on my own, to get the room. You don’t want people overhearing us talking over dinner—about being gay, about gay people I know. In fact, you’ve been distracted and argumentative all evening. Maybe you’re still half in the closet.”
Nick had gone pale, and I didn’t know if it was from anger or upset. “Can we not talk about this?”
“You mean not here in a hotel dining room?”
“I don’t care where the fuck we are. I’m not talking about it. It’s not the point.”
“The hell it isn’t! How are you going to manage a home and partnership if you can’t face it being a gay one?”
“Of course I can! If and when that comes along.” He sounded very angry now, though still keeping his voice low. “Seems like you need to open your own closet door, Dan. See how other people live, people who want something different from you. We haven’t all had the advantage of an easy life. We don’t all have—or want—the same choices.”
My anger sparked suddenly from a slow burn to a flame. “Easy life? You think it was easy to lose my parents? Easy to have a sister teased mercilessly at school for having a gay brother? Easy to be jeered at when you chose art classes as often as football sessions? Easy to sit in job interviews where you can see them looking you up and down, wondering if one day you’ll mince into their staid offices in a lime-green suit?” I was being ridiculous. I had no idea if Nick’s life experiences had been the same as mine, or if they’d been even worse. But he’d hurt and disturbed me, and I lashed out.
Our voices echoed off the flock-wallpapered walls. There was no one else in sight, the kitchen staff probably delaying clearing our table, the reception outside no longer manned. There was just us, and our ugly, stupid, inexplicable argument.
I turned and rushed out of the dining room.
Chapter 8
NICK FOLLOWED me upstairs and into the bedroom—there wasn’t much else he could do. His overnight bag was already there and it was too late to go anywhere else. I stood by the window, my back to him, my fists clenched with angry passion.
He shut the door behind him quietly and leaned back against it. “Dan? I’ll go.”
It was impossible to ignore him, especially when all I had to distract me was a view over the darkened hotel car park. I turned to see confusion and hurt on his face, and I realised how ashamed I was about the scene over dinner. I walked over and put my hand on his cheek, really glad when he didn’t pull away but nuzzled against my palm as if he welcomed it.
“Nick, I’m so sorry.”
“So am I. God. You have no idea of my background, but I haven’t suffered bereavement or even much discrimination. I have no right to challenge you on that, and I’m sorry. What you said is okay.”
No, it wasn’t okay; I knew that for sure. “And I had no right to talk to you in that way, to be so bloody rude. I think it unnerved me more than I thought, seeing Mark in his new home. Believe me, I’m glad he’s happy. It’s been great to see how the group has settled down—Gerry with his show business, Mark with his romance-novel life.”
I grimaced. I’d still sounded snappy, though I hadn’t intended to.
“But isn’t that what this quest of yours is all about?”
“What do you mean?”
Nick sighed. He put his arms around my waist.
Grateful for his forgiveness and the tension easing between us, I rested my head on his shoulder.
“Dan, I think you need to be honest about why you suddenly decided to look up your old friends. Whatever you say about your new interest in surfing the net or the extra time on your hands, it looks to me like you’re looking for direction. A destination of your own.”
“You mean because I broke up with Eric? I don’t think so!”
“I don’t know if it’s that. You haven’t told me all the details, and of course I don’t expect you to. But it’s natural for significant events in your life to make you pause and rethink.”
I glanced quickly at him, but he didn’t go on. Was that what had happened to him? “All that crap I said about you being in the closet—”
He tightened his hands on my waist. “It’s okay. No, I’m not as open as you, but that doesn’t mean that’s the reason….” He paused and sighed, his breath warming my neck. “I’ll explain sometime, perhaps, but not now. Let’s not waste now, eh?”
He was right. Now was warm, real, sexy, and considerably more rewarding. I kissed him, deeper and needier than in the car, and he returned it fully. Maybe I’d only known him for a couple of days, but this felt both familiar and amazingly right.
But it was my turn to pause. “Sit down, Nick.” At his questioning frown, I added, “I want to tell you the rest of the story about that game of chase the ace.”
“You don’t have to tell me anything.”
“I know. But I will.” I pulled us both down to sit on the bed, on top of the covers. I could smell his skin, feel the heat from his palm on mine, hear the slight hitch in his breath. “It’s nothing as lurid or horrific as you may think, but I want you to know. We played the game in the clubhouse that day, late in the evening while we were waiting to be picked up by a parent, as Mark was, or to sign out and walk home like me. The four of us played and I lost. Again. My third life. So Alec called up the dare—it was his turn, having the highest card—and he told me I had to kiss someone. A boy.”
Nick’s hand tightened on mine. “Are you okay about reliving this?”
“Hell, yes. I’d kissed a couple of boys before—it wasn’t a dreadful thing. In fact, I was quite excited. Then he told me I had to be blindfolded so I wouldn’t know who it was. It was still quite exciting.”
Nick tensed up and I turned to smile at him. “Not a fraction as exciting as last night. But remember, I was sixteen and quite sheltered. I sat in a chair, and Alec fetched a tea towel to put over my eyes.” The scene flickered in my memory, returning in force. “Then, just before he tied the knot, I saw a group of older kids gathering in the doorway, watching us. I didn’t know them, and I remember thinking they looked threatening. I mean, there were a couple of other kids around us, laughing and snickering at the game, and I didn’t mind that. They knew it was a joke. It was only as bad as when we painted ketchup over Gerry’s bum and made prints of his arse on copies of the club newsletter. Or when Mark had to sing the theme song to the Teletubbies from the middle of the sports field.”
Nick’s chuckle was a comforting sound.
“But anyway, I didn’t have time to say anything, and I could hear Alec bossing around the others to choose who’d kiss me. Most of the straight boys were backing away, making vomit noises, and then suddenly the lights in the clubhouse went out. I clawed the blindfold off, but I was totally in the dark. There was only one window in that room and the blinds had already been closed for the day. All I could hear was the crash of furniture being turned over and Mark yelling in fright. There was fighting—I heard the sound of punches, and someone fell on the floor at my feet, nearly toppling me over in the chair. I leaped up and stumbled to the side of the room, trying to get out of the way. I heard a couple of shouts of ‘queer,’ I think. Then a hand grabbed m
y jaw, fingertips felt for my mouth, and someone kissed me. Quickly, fiercely, and very deliciously. Then he was gone.”
Nick was staring at me, quite pale. “Shit. What happened then?”
The scene was still very vivid in my mind, even though I’d been almost blind in the dark. “Gerry was fighting back, I think, but I remember the club had banned him from the boxing class because of biting some kid’s ear, so I wasn’t sure how well he was doing. I didn’t hear Alec’s voice at all. Mark was just sobbing. I swung out at a couple of passing bodies and got punched in the nose for my troubles.”
Nick lifted a hand and stroked a fingertip down my nose.
“No, that’s not a natural Roman nose,” I said ruefully. “Just a reset in my teenage years.”
“What else did they do?”
I shook my head. “Oh, nothing else. Luckily there wasn’t time. The lights suddenly came back on and the staff arrived to break it up. Someone must have alerted them to come quickly, because most of them were on the far field at the time, clearing away the sports equipment. The troublemakers got carted off, and we didn’t see any more of them. Gerry had a fractured bone in his arm and swollen fingers on both hands, but he was grinning all over with ludicrous pride. We both had to go to hospital to be checked out, but they let us go soon after bandaging us up.”
“Mark and Alec?”
I grimaced. “Apparently Mark had to be cajoled out of the toilet by his father—he was locked in there and almost hysterical. There was no sign of Alec at all.”
I hadn’t wanted to believe he’d just abandoned us, but now I thought it over again, that seemed the only explanation.
“Dammit, I think that counts as a significant life event,” Nick said. “I was bullied plenty of times in school, even before I ever admitted I was gay. They seemed to smell it out before I did.”
He shuddered, whether with fear or anger, I didn’t know.
“Well. It wasn’t the bullying that upset me most, though I never liked fighting like Gerry did.”
