by Cara Dee
With Joseph, I added internally. I didn’t know how, though I was sure he fit in here somewhere. Henry and Joseph had more than a little history.
“It wasn’t until then I considered myself truly out,” he said. “You told me it was personal, remember?” I nodded, and he nodded once too. “I think many of us can relate to that. Being out is more than just telling friends and family. It’s a feeling.”
“Yeah.” Like a weight off one’s shoulders.
I wasn’t sure I was there yet—with that feeling—but I was going in the right direction.
“So you and Joseph got together, right?” I hoped I sounded casual.
Henry chuckled under his breath. “We started sleeping together, yes. We were never an item, and I only ever viewed him as a friend. We’re also almost exclusively tops, so we had more fun together when there was someone between us.”
My jaw dropped an inch before I firmly smashed my lips together. They shared guys together. And just like that, it all made sense. What Martin and Henry had talked about downstairs. Joseph was interested in having me between him and Henry.
I squirmed, unsure how to feel. It was unsettling.
“I don’t want you to think of me as some Casanova,” Henry said. “It couldn’t be further from the truth.”
“Right. You still had your long dry spells, or however you put it, but then when you didn’t, you and Joseph were bagging twinks left and right.”
“Well,” he coughed, “something like that, sans the bagging. A couple here and there. No need for bags.”
“You know what I mean.” I rolled my eyes. “Move along. Who’s Oliver?”
“I didn’t mention—” As he narrowed his eyes at me, it hit me that I’d given myself away. Aw, shit. Now he knew I’d been downstairs. “How much did you hear, Zachary?”
Fuck me if I didn’t blush. Thankfully, there were only a couple lamps in the windows, so the place wasn’t too bright.
“Enough to now realize that Joseph might want a threesome with us.”
He wasn’t fast enough to hide his grimace. Little things like that, I took comfort in. And it was kinda obvious to me now that I wanted Henry to myself, for however long we lasted. I hoped it was long. Did that make me naïve?
“I wanna hear about Oliver,” I said.
He released a breath, some of the tension leaving him. “Oliver was a big mistake. A guy in his early thirties—Joseph was dating him. And our, how shall I say… Our modus operandi for when we played with others was to introduce them over a drink and then take it from there. If there was someone I’d met, I would invite Joseph over to meet him and vice versa. And he invited me out for dinner to meet Oliver, his new boyfriend.” It was getting less hot for me. “We had fun a few times before I got suspicious of Oliver. He had mood swings that rivaled my mother’s when she was out of Prozac. My feelings for him were also entirely wrong. I didn’t want to sleep with him. I wanted to make sure he ate right and went back to school.”
I snorted softly.
“After knowing Joseph for so long, though, I’d come to rely on his judgment,” he went on, quieter now. “We learned that Oliver struggled with depression.” That made me stiffen. “Joseph wanted to help him, and Oliver grew attached to us both quickly. For all intents and purposes, we were in a relationship, the three of us. All for the wrong reasons. We were babysitters more than anything, but it was the easiest way to make sure Oliver didn’t do anything stupid.”
I swallowed. “He was suicidal?”
“Oh. No, darling.” He shook his head and squeezed my foot affectionately. “Oliver is fine and well today.” I was relieved. “He did self-medicate, though. Unlike your mother, he’d started using cocaine. We couldn’t be there all hours of the day, and someone who doesn’t want help…”
Won’t accept it.
Henry continued. “Oliver and I were alone one day, and he told me his parents wanted him home so they could help him get better. I thought it was a wonderful idea and promised I’d be there in whatever capacity he wished. He’s from Denver,” he elaborated. “Then Joseph came home from work, and I expected he would be as relieved as I was.”
“He wasn’t,” I guessed.
“No. He was furious. He claimed we should work this out together, just us three.” The tension made a return. “See, Joseph had made me think it was Oliver who needed us. It turned out it was Joseph who wanted us together.” He sighed. “Once Oliver returned home, it took Joseph quite a while to get over him.”
I tilted my head. “Um, what about getting over you?”
“Me?” He frowned. “It wasn’t me he’d fallen for.”
Oh, really… Then why insist on having Henry be part of the relationship?
“How can you be sure?” I eyed him dubiously.
“Because he told me, and I trust him. Besides, we never made sense. He’s a control freak and bitched like a little queen every time he bottomed. Between you and me, I think he’s irritated because he liked it so much.”
I spluttered. “I don’t think I want details about you and Joseph, but I’m sure he gave you rave reviews.”
“Your reviews are the only ones I care about.” Henry finally left the foot of the bed and crawled over to me. I smiled. He did too. “My beautiful lover.”
Funny how I’d never been much of a blusher before him.
He dropped a quick kiss to my forehead, then landed next to me on the mattress, sadly overdressed. “About Wednesday when we meet Joseph…” He raised a brow.
“First things first,” I said. “You never bottom?” I wouldn’t call it a compatibility issue, though I did want to fuck him.
His brow furrowed. “Of course I do.”
“But you said exclusively tops earlier…”
“Almost.” He stifled a yawn and unbuttoned his shorts. “Call me old-fashioned, but it’s a relationship thing for me. Too intimate to share with someone I wouldn’t consider being with long term.”
Of fucking course I had to wonder if that included me.
“Now, about Wednesday,” he said. “I need to know your thoughts—”
“I don’t wanna be fucking shared with Joseph,” I replied bluntly, annoyed.
Either Henry didn’t notice I was irritated, or he didn’t care. He exhaled, and an “Oh, thank God” gusted out of him. He reached for my hand and brought my knuckles to his lips. “I haven’t met many men who’ve turned him down. Forgive me for worrying.”
His words melted away most of my annoyance, and his kisses took care of the rest.
“Martin was right, by the way,” I murmured. “I have no interest in playing the field. Whatever this is between you and me is just ours for as long as it lasts.”
He caressed my cheek, gaze flicking to mine. “I might need you to remind me of that from time to time. I’m a jaded old man—”
“You’re not that old.” I rolled my eyes.
“—and despite that, the intensity of these past few days has gotten my hopes up.” He tapped my nose as I grinned. “I told you you’re bad news, Zachary.”
“Bad or dangerous?” I waggled my brows.
He laughed and conceded. “Dangerous. Definitely dangerous.”
He was wrong, though dangerous was better than bad.
Eleven
Mom and dad are fighting
Tuesday was weird.
Around five in the afternoon, I found myself standing on a beach alone with my feet sinking down into the sand with each wave.
I scratched my head and squinted at the sun. The cliffs around me changed colors depending on the time of day. They’d been brighter when I got here. Now, as the sun crept closer to the horizon, they shifted to orange.
Checking my phone again, I wasn’t too surprised to see I had no service. Malibu needed to get on that.
Was it safe to return to the war zone yet?
If Martin and Henry were crazy when they bickered, they were downright certifiable when they argued. Apparently, an old ex of Martin’s w
as back in town, and he was planning on seeing him. Henry called him an idiot because this other dude had stolen Martin’s car… So now they were yelling at each other.
I hoped they were done. I’d escaped with a “Fuck no, don’t drag me into this, you crazy old birds” when Martin had tried to explain how this time was different.
I checked the time and sighed. After I spent the morning in bed with Henry, he’d gone down to open the shop, and I had run out and bought breakfast for the three of us. It’d been enough alone time to process everything I’d learned last night, and I’d arrived with the intention of telling Henry about Ty. But Mattie called with a work problem, so I had to spend two hours on the phone because we’d gotten a double shipment of dairy products to the store. If it’d been soda, I would’ve let it slide. We sold that without ever having to worry about expiration dates.
It wasn’t until after noon I’d been able to tell Henry about his nephew, and I was thankful he’d immediately started his search for a number to use to track down his parents. The family lawyer might have it, and he was gonna call back in the morning.
“Fuck it.” I peered down and hauled my feet up from the soft sand. Henry and Martin better fucking be done by now.
It was the first time I’d found Henry sitting with Eagle. They were both cuddled up on the couch upstairs, and I couldn’t help but laugh. They were just so cute. Henry looked like he was fresh out of the shower. Nothing on top, though I suspected he wore sweats or boxers underneath the blanket.
There was a box of assorted chocolates next to Henry. A glass of red wine on the table.
“I’ve been waiting for you.” The only thing missing in his tone was an actual pout. I wasn’t sure I’d be capable of handling that without breaking out in hysterics.
“How’s your other half? I don’t like it when Mom and Dad fight.” I set the box of chocolate on the table, where he’d pressed pause on something on his tablet. I supposed for someone who rarely watched TV, a tablet was enough.
“We’re not on speaking terms.” The man was testy.
“You’re adorable, you know that?” I leaned forward, checking out the selection of chocolates. They looked awfully extravagant, usually meaning pricey-as-fuck, so I wouldn’t be gorging. Popping one into my mouth, I mmmph’d at the deliciousness and leaned back against the cushions. “I don’t know who this Jacques Torres guy is, but he knows his chocolate.”
“I have a dealer in New York,” he said. “By dealer, I mean a dear friend I went to college with. I order them through her whenever she’s heading out here for work because I don’t trust regular shipping.”
I hope she comes around a lot, I almost said.
I was going home sooner rather than later, though.
“Whatever makes you less cranky, lover,” I replied cheekily and patted his arm. Eagle fucking hissed at me. Was I getting too close to Daddy? “I thought we were making progress.” I stared at the cat.
“Perhaps he’ll give you less attitude if you call me lover without sarcasm,” Henry suggested. “I know one person who’d certainly like it.”
I smiled and leaned closer, ignoring Eagle’s bitchy glare.
“My lover.” I pressed my lips to his, kissing him softly in several pecks. “My handsome, drop-dead gorgeous lover. Better?”
It took me off guard how much I enjoyed saying it. Cheesy as hell or not… Henry was my lover, and there wasn’t a word in that sentence I didn’t get a thrill from.
He sighed and nodded, then stole another smooch. “Much. Where did you go when World War III broke out? I apologize for that, by the way. I didn’t want you to get involved.”
I shrugged, placing an arm along the back of the couch. I was sitting higher while he was all but lounging, so in a rare switch, I got to be the top for a change. I enjoyed it a shitload. “Drove around for a bit. I bought a donut in town—don’t tell Martin—then went to the beach for a while.”
“Zuma?”
“No, too crowded.” Zuma Beach was closest, huge and full of people. I didn’t know which one I’d ended up at.
He hummed and lolled his head toward my shoulder, and my fingers found his hair. “I’m going to tell Martin. I’ll also mention you liked it more than his.”
I laughed silently, my shoulders shaking. “Your dynamic is nuts.”
“You’re not wrong,” he chuckled drowsily. “We’ve been best friends for twenty-five years. We’ve been each other’s parents, brothers, and therapists.” They’d been through a lot together.
“Were you two ever…?”
He shook his head. “Entirely different tastes and preferences. No, we clicked right away, but strictly as friends and brothers.”
I wanted something like that for myself. It wasn’t only my love life that’d been put on hold while growing up. It was everything. Friends, hobbies, education…
“What about Joseph and Martin?” I asked.
“Ha,” he huffed, amused. “Those two—that’s another dysfunctional relationship. When I introduced the two, it was almost as if they made a conscious effort to hate one another. It’s a struggle to this day. Sometimes, they’re very close. Other times, they’re constantly fighting.”
Tomorrow would be interesting, then. With Henry and Martin not speaking, Joseph evidently wanting a three-way with Henry and me, and that shit not happening…I just hoped there wouldn’t be any drama.
“Speaking of dysfunctional relationships…” Henry leaned forward with a grunt, Eagle jumping down, and grabbed his tablet. “It goes without saying that Tyler and I will have a rocky relaunch, so I was wondering if you could go through this list for me. I’ve been thinking about punishments—especially after what you told me he said to that poor girl. But without established trust, I fear punishments will only divide us further.”
He showed me the document he’d been working on, and a weight I hadn’t known existed was lifted off my shoulders. He was right; they’d have a rough go at first, but I had no doubt Henry would be good for Ty. The remaining concern was whether or not Ty would snap out of his dickishness.
The first item on the list read “Volunteer,” followed by an additional list of places. Soup kitchens and LGBTQ+ centers, and addresses for them. He’d jotted down notes about a place called Second Family as if he knew it well. “Talk to Marisol, bring Tyler to a group session,” it said.
Speaking to a counselor was next, which gave me a slight pause.
“He shouldn’t view any of these as punishments,” I noted.
Henry inclined his head. “But he will.”
The following four items were more classic punishments for teenagers. Revoked privileges, like his cell phone, no car, no going out, et cetera.
“He probably won’t have access to any of that when he arrives,” Henry added. “I have a feeling he’ll leave, given the chance.”
I nodded. “You should add cleaning Eagle’s litter box. That shit’s nasty.”
Henry smiled. “Aw, he’s my cuddle monster.”
“His shit still stinks.”
“It’s because of his food. It’s supposed to help him lose weight.”
Sure, sure.
The humor faded as I read the rest of the list, approving of the whole thing. For not being a parent, he was going into this as prepared as he could be. I shared his views on what was structure and good values.
“Are you ready for this?” I had to ask anyway.
“I’m determined,” he replied honestly. “I wish I’d been stronger before—for him and myself—but I can’t dwell on that anymore.”
“Nor should you,” I muttered. “You had too much working against you. Now it’ll be just you and him. And Mattie and I will be here for as long as we can.” About that… I looked around the apartment, perfectly suited for one person. It worked great for us too. Four would be a stretch. “What’re you gonna do about space? Mattie and I have no issues going to a motel—”
“Nonsense.” He was dismissive. “I’m renting a house for us
. Lord, I don’t think even Ty and I could share this apartment. Imagine the head-butting we’ll do?” He had a point. Ty wasn’t a stranger to slamming doors, and Henry would need some privacy at the end of the day to regroup. “How long do you think you and your brother can stay?”
Huh. It was surprisingly easy to tackle this topic when it wasn’t about Henry and me. I was already dreading the day, but this was about Henry and Ty. I was here to help, not share his bed. Well, mainly.
The concern was Pammie. She’d be alone with the store at home, and there came a time where simply a bonus wouldn’t cut it. We were open from seven in the morning to ten at night, and the mere thought made me wince. Unlike Henry’s bookstore, we actually had customers.
“You’re worried about something.” He reached up and smoothed out the crease between my brows. “What’s the concern?”
I explained it to him, about Pammie being our only employee. When Mattie was home, there was no issue. They split the hours and were like any other full-time workers.
“Would you lose business if you closed for vacation?” Henry asked.
“Yes, when the door is locked, it does pose a problem for customers to get in—”
He pinched my side, and I laughed.
“I mean, would you lose them to any competition?” he clarified. “Smartass.”
“Nah. It’s called a convenience store for a reason. They go where it’s convenient. Those who live nearby come to us.”
“So,” he went on, “theoretically, if I were to compensate you for lost income—since I truly need help here—you’d return to Camassia later on, and the customers would be back.”
Tempting bastard. He phrased himself that way on purpose too. That he needed help, that it wasn’t me freeloading.
“Theoretically,” I agreed. There was one problem, though. “Here’s the thing, Henry. I wanna stay, and I have no doubt Mattie’s gonna love it here.”
