“Chad quit right after you did, and he’s oh so lost because nobody will play with him.”
“Serves him right, asshole.”
“He’s playing open mic nights in the Pearl.”
“Ainsley?” Lee gingerly lifted the coffee cup again. When Heidi smiled, he sipped, then smiled back.
“No, Chad. You know, that place where we went to that political action meeting?”
Heidi rolled her eyes and leaned her hip against the opposite counter, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. She’d been so disappointed; they’d gone to the meeting hoping to embark upon a campaign to fight for queer rights and meet throngs of like-minded people—create one of those “chosen families” everyone talks about. Everyone in books. Instead, they ended up listening to a straight guy from California talk about recruiting volunteers in Portland’s faith communities. He’d been disappointed too, but he hadn’t been looking for a community to support his coming out, so it was less of a letdown.
“No kidding. What’s he playing?”
“Originals. He’s good.” She rummaged around under the counter and pulled out a rough tan flyer. “The next one is Thursday night.”
“Hmm, maybe I’ll take Phil.”
Heidi frowned. “Are you sure? I mean, he’s kinda cute and all, but—”
“Be careful.” His tone was light, but when he looked at her over the rim of his cup, she got it. “You just want him for yourself, but he doesn’t play for your team.”
She shrugged and rolled her eyes while shaking her head, giving Lee a flashback to the hospital and his concussion. He still felt a little off-center at times, but didn’t think that would be news to anyone.
LEE LEFT a few minutes later and called Phil as soon as he found a parking spot. He tried not to be hurt when Phil didn’t meet him on the sidewalk. Or in the driveway. Phil and Jerry sat on the back porch drinking beer, which for no reason Lee could name made him nervous.
He felt better about it when Phil left his half-empty beer behind and practically dragged him down to the basement. Phil’s hand wasn’t exactly steady, but he didn’t smell like he’d showered in a brewery and had no problems performance wise—in fact, he seemed to last a lot longer than usual, which also made Lee nervous.
Geez, am I never satisfied?
He decided he was probably working himself up for nothing. Maybe he couldn’t even afford the house, and maybe Phil would hate it. Phil seemed less cuddly than usual, but maybe he was a little cool because Lee was so late.
“Are you doing anything Thursday night?”
“What do you think?”
Did he just snap at me?
“Do you want to go to an open mic night with me? A guy I know is playing—nothing like at Backspace. Acoustic music. Maybe it’s too mellow and—”
“Sure. What time should I pick you up?”
“I’ll come by about seven thirty if that’s okay.”
Phil untangled himself and went into the bathroom. When he came out, he was all dressed, his long-sleeved shirt buttoned up to his throat. He frowned at the carpet and moved around straightening things that weren’t crooked.
“Hey.” Lee raised up on his elbows and watched him for a few seconds. “What’s going on?”
Phil stopped, facing the wall under the casement window. The sun filtering through it lit up dark red highlights in his hair. Lee would’ve been happy to study them for a few hours, but the air was so charged he could hardly breathe. “If you don’t want to go, it’s no big deal.”
“Geez, I hate it when you say that. No big deal.” He whirled to face Lee, his hands balled into fists. He approached the bed, and Lee had never felt so naked before. He was a heartbeat away from moving a hand to protect the family jewels.
“Sometimes, it is a big deal.”
“Okay.”
“Like when you don’t even want me to know where you live. That’s a big deal to me.”
Lee started to answer, but nothing came out for a long moment in which Phil’s frown deepened. “That’s not what I meant. I’m not going to ask you out and then expect you to drive.”
“Oh, if that’s all.”
“That’s all. I share a dinky apartment with this guy—”
Phil’s mouth dropped open, and Lee sat up fast.
“Not like that! It’s a two bedroom—he’s straight, for shit’s sake. That’s why I haven’t had you over. He’s so straight he has no idea. He keeps trying to push me and Heidi together.”
Lee pulled on his jeans and T-shirt, hoping the feeling he was digging himself a hole was all in his head. He wanted to wrap his arms around Phil and fix everything, but maybe that wasn’t the way to go.
“Listen, I’m sorry. I didn’t keep it from you for any deep dark reason.” He moved as close to Phil as he dared and hoped for the right words to come out. For once. “Mark’s a decent guy, but he’d have a problem if he found out about Heidi, so I’m staying below his radar for her. She’s afraid of what their parents would say.”
Phil sat on the edge of the bed. He looked tired and sad. That look sent fear coursing through Lee’s body, like an adrenaline rush that made him want to lie down and close his eyes until it passed.
“So, Heidi’s a lesbian?”
“No, she’s bi. But she’s seeing this girl right now, and I don’t want to mess things up for her. That’s… I’m sorry, that’s pretty crappy. I—”
“No, it’s not crappy. It’s nice.” Phil sighed.
Lee reached out, in a way that he hoped was inviting without being pushy or intimidating or—hell, he didn’t have a clue what to do.
Phil stood and kissed his cheek, and after a moment, asked what he’d been up to that day. And he sounded perfectly normal when he asked if Lee wanted a beer or a Dew, and if he’d had lunch.
Phil
PHIL TRIED not to pace. The last thing he needed was to be all sweaty and gross when Lee showed up. Well, there were worse things, like snapping his head off for nothing or stopping just short of all the way every damned time. Lee was patient, but that couldn’t last forever.
Lee arrived right on time, and Phil tried to pretend the silence in the car wasn’t uncomfortable. It took a few trips around the neighborhood to find a parking space, and the music greeted them before they opened the door. Lee held the door open, leaving Phil pondering whether he was being sweet or if he secretly felt superior. Phil couldn’t stifle a soft snort at that thought—as though it were a question of who was the better man. A large pointy rock lodged in his stomach when Lee couldn’t help but react. Stripping Lee’s smile away made Phil feel like he’d slapped a newborn baby—worse than heartless, reprehensible.
Heidi waved them over to a pair of oversized chairs near the far corner of the stage, and Lee sat Phil in the empty one. It looked like it had been covered with those blue-and-white shirts loggers wore. He said hello to Heidi and her friend, whose name he immediately forgot. They sat together in the chair and looked so happy it hurt his head. It didn’t help that they looked almost like sisters and the place was uncomfortably full of people he didn’t know.
He’d never been there before, couldn’t remember ever going past Powell’s and into the Pearl. The furniture all looked like it had come from the same house: blue and white and blonde wood tables made to look older than they were. Or maybe they’d been seriously battered by the patrons. At least he was able to contain himself and not react audibly when he realized it really was a hipster place.
Great.
The music was good, though. Lee’s friend sat on a tall stool in the center of a small triangular stage shoved into the corner, like it was always in time-out. He accompanied himself on an acoustic guitar. Two more guitars sat behind him on stands and two extra microphones nearby had Phil wondering how these open mic things worked. Lee brought coffees and handed one to Phil, but before he managed to squeeze into the chair, the guy on stage—Chad—stopped in midlyric.
“Don’t get too comfortable, Lee.”
Lee shook his head and settled into the chair, and Chad picked up where he’d left off. After one more song, he took a break and came straight to where they sat. A handsome guy, Chad was tall and slim with longish brown hair and surprisingly green eyes. Lee stood to embrace him and jealousy poked at Phil like a pebble in his shoe. Heidi gave him a funny look, so Chad was probably straight.
Does that mean I’m stupid for being jealous, or stupid for not knowing Chad’s straight?
Lee introduced them, and the way Chad looked him over confused everything all over again. “Do I know you, Phil? You look familiar.”
Phil shook his head.
“He came to the last gig at Backspace.”
“Oh, yeah, the guy with the camera. Help me convince Lee to get up there.”
Chad would’ve said more, but an even taller guy grabbed him from behind and spirited him away down a narrow hallway. They disappeared under the “Restrooms” sign, their laughter close behind them.
“Classy,” Heidi drawled, and then she turned to Lee. “You really should.”
Lee made a noncommittal sound and looked everywhere but at Phil.
“I’d like to hear it. It would be cool.” Phil wasn’t sure he wanted Lee sitting that close to Chad, but maybe that wasn’t why he was feeling a little mean. He bit his lip to keep from saying anything else, because for no good reason, some of the taunts he’d heard from the older guys at the group home sat right there on his tongue. Lee wasn’t afraid to get up on stage—he’d proven that—so Phil just sat and worked on not saying anything he didn’t really mean.
The girls did most of the talking for the next little while, with an occasional syllable from Lee. It comforted Phil and weirded him out at the same time that it seemed like all four of them were involved in the conversation. Chad and his friend came back a few minutes later, their hair mussed and their faces flushed. Chad’s grin turned into a genuinely happy smile when he made it to the chair.
“Whatcha say, Lee? Are we doing this?”
Lee bumped shoulders with Phil. It wasn’t the easiest thing he’d ever done, but Phil smiled a little as he nodded. Lee stood and before following Chad, leaned over and kissed Phil. Nothing porny, just a light brush of his soft lips. It wasn’t anything they hadn’t done a thousand times, but it reduced Phil to fighting off panic. Lee didn’t seem to notice.
He’ll notice if you lose it and run for the door, though, so get a grip.
Watching him walk away helped take the edge off his terror and bring it back into the neighborhood of plain old fear. Lee had been trapped in sweats for so long, the return of his worn jeans was almost like meeting him all over again. He sat on a stool and took the guitar Chad passed him, and then they put their heads together and whispered.
“Gee, possessive aren’t we?”
Phil shivered. For a moment, a short but wonderful moment, he’d felt as though he and Lee were the only two people in the room. He turned to find both girls paying close attention to him, and his face heated. He didn’t know how he found the strength to keep from looking to see if anyone else was watching him, if anyone else had seen the kiss or the panic or the jealousy.
Heidi leaned toward her girlfriend but held Phil’s attention and gaze with hers. “Looks like the little guy doesn’t like it when his hot boyfriend sits next to someone else.”
Before he could keep it tamped down, a flash of anger jolted through him. He felt it all over his face.
“Oh!” Heidi laughed. “Too close to home, eh, Phil?”
“Give him a break. I wouldn’t like it either.”
Heidi’s stare darkened. After a few seconds of literally biting his tongue, Phil realized he didn’t have to sit there and take it. He stood, draped Lee’s jacket over the back of the chair, and headed for the men’s room, taking great care not to hear anything else Heidi might’ve said.
The music still hadn’t started by the time he was finished, so he went to the counter to check out the goodies. Phil stood looking at the muffins and pastries, trying to figure out which one would magically make him feel okay. All at once it hit him that he’d been working up to a panic attack after Lee kissed him in the middle of the crowded coffeehouse, but it hadn’t happened. He straightened and took a moment to feel the relief. Relief—more like a milestone, a tipping point. He was smiling like an idiot when a soft voice startled him.
“Are you in line?”
Phil turned and came face-to-face with a pair of eyes that embodied the word smoky. Or was that sultry? A wisp of a guy, he was all eyes and thick lashes and tousled auburn hair.
“Um, no. I, um, haven’t decided.”
The guy leaned toward the display case and smiled at Phil. His lashes fanned out over his white cheek, as delicate as a spider’s web. “Those petit fours are delicious. I had one yesterday.”
Phil smiled. “Thanks.”
“I’m Theo.” He extended a pale, slender hand and looked Phil over from behind those long lashes.
Phil felt like someone else was in control of his hand as he took it and introduced himself to Theo.
“You came with the cute blond musician?”
“Yeah.”
“Too bad.”
Phil felt like he had a facial tic, but Theo’s answering faux-shy smile made him wonder what it looked like from the other side. The guy behind the counter asked if they wanted anything, and Phil let Theo go first. When Theo turned away, he tried to hand Phil a little white bag. The guy almost could’ve been pointing a gun at Phil and gotten the same reaction; Phil took a side step backward.
“It’s only a petit four, Phil.”
“Oh. Thanks, Th-Theo. I’m going to go for something ch-chocolate.”
Lee and Chad had started playing by the time Phil made his way back to the chair. Even with the damned stuttering, Theo had kept smiling. Phil’s hands shook almost as much as his legs, and he barely managed to sit in the chair without embarrassing himself by dropping into it. Or onto the floor in front of it. After a couple of slow, deep breaths, he’d almost composed himself when Lee started to sing. The combination of the two guitars and the two voices, their light folksy harmonies intertwining, broke Phil’s heart into tiny pieces.
The whole coffeehouse quieted to listen, and it made Phil sad that Lee didn’t see their rapt faces. Lee bent over the guitar almost like he was embarrassed, but what little Phil could see of his face showed only joy.
At the end of the song, the crowd didn’t start clapping right away—a few people did, but most of the room just stared. Lee and Chad looked up, and then at each other, and went into another song. The rest of the coffeehouse seemed to remember they normally applauded good musicians and made an effort to show their appreciation while not completely covering the opening notes of the new song. The applause stopped entirely as soon as they started singing again. Phil wondered if anyone else had to work as hard not to embarrass themselves because of the music’s unexpected beauty.
Heidi interrupted his reverie. She emerged from the hallway, stopped in front of him for a moment, then returned to her chair. Phil hadn’t noticed her leaving, only the peace and silence of her absence.
“So you didn’t know you were screwing the male Carole King?”
Phil frowned with the effort not to engage her. But then she leaned over and touched his shoulder to get his attention. He pulled away as he twisted to look at her. For 1/800th of a second, he thought he’d really panic. Right there in the coffeehouse in front of everyone. In front of Lee and his friends. His heart hammered in his chest, and his head spun with the effort to keep his ass in that chair. After a few seconds, he saw something that could’ve been kindness in Heidi’s eyes. At least it didn’t look like pity or scorn, which, for some reason, seemed to be enough to keep the panic at bay and him in the chair. He didn’t have the strength to consider what she could’ve seen on his face; the whole evening had been exhausting, and it had barely started.
“This song? Lee wrote it.” She smiled and leaned her hea
d against her girlfriend’s shoulder, turning her attention to the stage.
After one more song, Lee stood and placed the guitar he’d been playing on a stand. He and Chad embraced, and then Lee jumped from the low stage, and Chad started another song. Lee stopped in front of Phil and hesitated before sitting back down. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. They shared the chair until Chad finished and another guy took his place, and then Lee said he had to be up early the next morning and they left.
The walk to the car passed in silence. They were halfway to Jerry’s before either spoke.
“Did you play football in high school?” Phil shivered when he heard himself ask that, and in his peripheral vision, he saw Lee jerk in surprise.
“Yeah. Every able-bodied guy in Willston plays football. Why?”
Phil shrugged and then realized Lee couldn’t have seen. “No reason. I don’t know very much about you.”
Lee sighed. “You do so.”
Phil remained silent. Everything he thought sounded too horrible to say, even in his head.
Lee sighed again. “So how do you know that guy you were flirting with?”
“Wh—I wasn’t f-flirting.”
“Sure you weren’t.”
“Hey, if I—”
Lee wrenched the wheel and pulled into an empty parking lot. Only the dentist’s sign lit the dark square of pavement. The car squeaked to a stop and continued rocking gently for a few seconds after he killed the engine. Phil twisted and pressed his back against the door and watched Lee stare out the windshield. So many things raced through his mind to say, but they all jumbled into each other and created a bottleneck, so he couldn’t say anything.
Lee sighed again, gripped the top of the steering wheel with both hands and rested his forehead against them.
“It’s—I didn’t plan on doing that tonight. I thought we’d just go and hang out and listen to some music.”
Phil concentrated on breathing and tried to relax. “Your songs are really good.”
“Thanks.”
Nesting Habits Page 12
