Irresistible

by Andrew J. Peters

  “I told you about Steve,” Cal said.

  “You said he was possessive. You never mentioned you had to take out a restraining order on him, or that he threatened to kill you, and that he drove his car into your house.”

  Cal’s nose twitched. “What? Derek told you that?”

  Brendan nodded.

  Cal rolled his eyes. “I took out a restraining order on Steve, but he never said he was going to kill me. And as far as driving a car into my house, he had a Smart car. When it hit the stoop to the porch, the airbag knocked him unconscious, and the whole thing toppled on its side.” He giggled from the memory. “I actually felt a little sorry for Steve. That kind of thing is a big deal in Syracuse. The news crews were there minutes after all the sirens from the police, the fire department, and the paramedics. They videotaped him being welded out of the car and taken by gurney into an ambulance.”

  Brendan blinked. Then his face drew up seriously again. “So Derek exaggerated. The guy still sounds pretty unbalanced.”

  “That happened a long time ago,” Cal said. “He hasn’t bothered me since.” He knew it sounded weak. But he hadn’t meant to hide anything from Brendan. It was just an embarrassing story to talk about. Who shares all the details of their past fucked-up relationships with someone they’re trying to be with? Cal had Derek to thank for making him look like an asshole. “Derek had no right to tell you about it.”

  Brendan’s shoulders sagged. He said nothing.

  “That’s why you’ve been giving me the silent treatment?”

  The color had drained from Brendan’s face. He looked like he was about to start sobbing. He muttered, “Derek said a lot of things.”

  “Give me a chance to make my rebuttal, Brendan. You’re starting to scare me.”

  Brendan shook his head. The tears came. “I’m sorry. Maybe it’s me.” He wiped his eyes. “I shouldn’t have let it get to me so much.”

  Cal slid closer to him on the seat. “You’re going to tell me everything Derek said. And we’re going to make it better, okay?”

  Brendan looked at him. His eyes were blurry with tears. “You were going to let me know about Steve eventually, right? I mean, that’s something pretty major, isn’t it?”

  Cal didn’t know what to say.

  “He could still be stalking you and wanting to hurt you.”

  “He hasn’t tried to make contact with me in months. He can’t leave Syracuse. He was sentenced to three years’ probation. He has to check in with a probation officer three times a week.” Cal gazed at Brendan steadily. He could see he had more things on his mind.

  “Derek said there were other guys like him.”

  Cal huffed out a breath. “You can’t possibly realize how embarrassing this is.”

  “Don’t you think I should know?”

  “I don’t know, Brendan.” Cal slid back to the other side of the car and pushed his hair back. There were things he didn’t understand himself, so how was he supposed to explain them to Brendan? Anger bit at him. “Derek is supposedly my best friend. He knows everything about me. How do you think it makes me feel having him tell you private things about my life before I’m ready to talk about them?”

  “You’re right,” Brendan said. “It wasn’t fair for Derek to tell me. But he did. And now we’re moving in together, and I’m scared, Cal. It’s like there’s this huge part of your past I know nothing about.”

  Cal chewed at one of his fingernails, an old habit he’d been trying to break since grade school. “You make it sound like I’ve been hiding a secret identity from you.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Or maybe you’re looking for a reason to break up with me.”

  “That’s not what I meant either,” Brendan said. “I know Derek had his reasons for telling me things you didn’t want me to know. But this is a big commitment we’re making. If there’s stuff in your past that could affect both of us, I ought to know. You’ve got to see that, don’t you?”

  “What did Derek say?”

  “He told me about Steve, and he said you had other stalkers in your past.”

  Cal snorted. “Great best friend I have, huh?”

  “That was all he said. It’s kind of warped, but I think he really cares about you. Like he’s your protector, and he wanted to make sure I’m not another psychopath.”

  “That’s a generous way to put it.”

  “Believe me—I’m no fan of Derek,” Brendan said. “But if you have guys stalking you, it doesn’t sound like a bad idea he’s been looking out for you.”

  Cal’s neck stiffened. “I don’t need anyone to look out for me.”

  Brendan had so much concern pouring from his face, he looked like Cal had just been released from the trauma unit at the hospital. That pissed Cal off more. “I’m not a child,” he said. “I can take care of myself.”

  “I know, Cal.”

  “I’ve been dealing with ‘Steves’ my entire life,” Cal told him. “If that bothers you, I guess it’s good you found out from Derek, sooner rather than later.”

  “Why are you getting angry at me?”

  “Because I know this conversation. I’ve had it before. You’ll say you feel really bad about what happened to me, and maybe you’ll really mean it. But in a day or two, it’s going to hit you that being with me is a lot more than you signed up for.”

  “Now you’re not giving me a chance.”

  Cal wanted to believe Brendan would be different. No boyfriend had ever treated him so lovingly, but Cal had been fooled before. By guys who couldn’t handle jealousy. Or guys who thought he was a freak or too much drama to deal with. Given the present circumstances, Cal’s choices were to clam up like a five-year-old, bolt from the sedan to ford through the bumper-to-bumper toll plaza (to walk through the Midtown Tunnel?), or tell Brendan the truth. It hit him then how screwed up it was he was even considering the two former possibilities. Brendan deserved to know, and Cal needed to start facing the truth himself.

  “Do you believe a person can be cursed?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “People who keep getting into the same crappy situations no matter what they do,” Cal explained.

  “I don’t know if that’s a curse,” Brendan said. “But tell me more.”

  “You’ve heard the expression—rolled in dog shit? Maybe that’s what happened to me. I don’t know.” A sigh heaved out of him. “It wasn’t just Steve. It started all the way back in middle school.” Brendan’s gaze locked in on him. Cal began the story.

  “Trinity Maypole. She was always taking photos of me. We were in eighth grade, and I thought it was just for fun, because we were friends, and she really liked me. I didn’t know she was posting every photo of me on her online diary and saying I was her boyfriend and we were having sex. Her parents went ballistic and nearly got me kicked out of school.

  “High school got worse. At a sleepover at my best friend’s house, I caught his mother standing at the door to his room, staring at me in the dark while she thought I was asleep in my sleeping bag. She used to steal things from me, like a glove or my schoolbooks, and text me to come over to get them when no one else was home. I had to break up with my best friend because his mom freaked me out.

  “I told you about Victor Saltamaggio, Then junior year, my art teacher, Mr. Jankovic, offered to give me a ride home from school one day when we got let out early because of a snowstorm. Outside the house, while we were sitting in his car, he got this weird look on his face, and he tried to kiss me. When I told my parents, they went to the principal to get him fired. Meanwhile, a bunch of kids at school spread a rumor we’d been having an affair for months.

  “My parents made me go to a psychologist. Mr. Goldschmitt. He seemed normal for a while, and then he started asking me all these sexual questions and saying he wanted to see me three times a week. We got hang-up calls at the house late at night, and I noticed he put away the photos of his wife and kids in his office and started
dressing up and wearing cologne for our appointments. I stopped going to see him, though I never told anyone about any of that.”

  Cal felt small and brittle. He’d thought about this history sometimes, but Cal had never voiced it in its entirety, even to Derek.

  “I thought college would be different. But it wasn’t. Guys got aggressive if I said I wouldn’t go out with them. I found out that my first boyfriend had a secret webcam in his dorm room to record the two of us fooling around. Every guy I liked played games, as though I had to prove I really liked him, which I never could. They just wanted to put me down and show me they were too good to be with someone like me. Or, they wanted to know where I was every second of the day.

  “Sophomore year, a real dickhead, Mark Buffalino, kept trying to get me alone in his room. When I wouldn’t, he spread a rumor that I came over, and we had a sex party with a bunch of his friends from out of town. I barely left my dorm room for months after that.”

  Brendan looked stricken. “I’m so sorry, Cal. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say that you believe me. Say I’m not some kind of mental case or pervert.”

  “Of course, I believe you. Those other guys are the mental cases and the perverts.”

  “Then why does it keep happening to me? Every guy I meet just wants to conquer me, or hide me from the world, or despise me because I can’t love him back. It happened with Steve. It happened with everyone.” He added in a small voice, “It’s probably going to happen with you.”

  Brendan was quiet for a while. “I don’t know why, Cal. You’re an attractive guy. That’s not an excuse for anyone to treat you that way. But a lot of people—they’re going to fall for you.”

  “Sometimes I wish I was hideous.”

  Brendan eased up close to him. He pushed Cal’s hair back from his face and grinned. “I’d still love you if you were hideous.”

  Cal snorted.

  “Y’know, when we first met, I was blown away,” Brendan told him. “You were so beautiful I was afraid to even talk to you. But that’s not why I wanted you to be my boyfriend. You’re even more beautiful on the inside. You’re kind. You make me laugh. You’re smart.”

  Cal looked up at him. “It doesn’t bother you my life has been a total mess?”

  Brendan shook his head. “You’ve been a victim. I hope you understand that. There’s no such things as curses. There’s just…people who do shitty things to other people.”

  Cal thought on that for a while. He’d said similar words in his head before, but they’d never really rung true. Hearing Brendan say them made it feel true. As if he was a good person, not some magnet for psychos.

  “I don’t care that you’ve had stalkers and bad relationships,” Brendan told him. “I don’t even care that you turn heads wherever you go. I don’t want to hide you away or show you off like a trophy. This is who you are, and it’s perfect. You’re the guy I want to be with for the rest of my life.”

  His meaning sank in, and Cal’s eyes grew big. He’d wanted to hear those words for as long as he could remember, but a wave of fear rocked through him. When Brendan clasped his hand, his gaze steady and sure, he made it hard to believe it wasn’t possible.

  “So what do you say? Will you marry me?”

  Cal hesitated for a half second. “Really?”

  Brendan chuckled mildly. “Yes.”

  Cal took Brendan’s hand in his, massaging it, staring at his ring finger. He looked up. The corners of his eyes burned. “Yes. I’ll marry you, Brendan Thackeray-Prentiss.”

  They sealed it with a kiss.

  Chapter Six

  THEIR WEDDING PLANS proceeded directly, and Brendan would admit it all looked impulsive, rushed, and even delirious from an outsider’s perspective. It was only two weeks after their first date, and they were engaged. They chose September, just eight weeks later, for the wedding. His grandmum said the news was wonderful, though her aged, sagacious eyes worried around her for a moment, the same way they had when he’d explained he needed to go back to college for a sixth year to finish his triple minors and dramaturgy certificate. Still, she recovered from the awkward moment in her inimitable way and brought out a smile as though she’d been waiting all her life for Brendan’s happy proclamation. Then she went straight to work itemizing what had to be done next.

  His pal Louis Jeffries was less subtle about his doubts. When Brendan snuck in the big announcement on the squash court one weekday afternoon, Louis stepped away from the serving line and approached Brendan with his racquet and the ball still welded in his hands.

  “Married? Brendan, at the beginning of the summer, I pretty much had to shovel you out of your bed where you were laid out for funeral viewing after breaking up with Thiago.”

  “I know,” Brendan said with a huge grin. “It’s amazing. That feels like it happened to another person. And now I’m in love with the greatest guy in the entire world.”

  Louis’s well-bred, shaven, angular face screwed up in a skeptical frown. “So how about giving this relationship a little time to breathe? I thought only lesbians shacked up after the first date. I’m not trying to be a buzzkill here, but you’ve got to admit, it’s a little dramatic.”

  “I knew you’d see it that way. But I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.” Brendan added, “You know that’s just a stereotype about lesbians, right, Mr. Gay Rights Ally?”

  “I love lesbians,” Louis defended himself. “Anyway, that’s not the point. You were sure about Thiago. Before that, you were sure about my cousin Trevor who you dated for, let’s see, seventy-two hours? You were sure about that guy in college. What’s-his-name? That redhead who always wore those really awful bow ties?”

  “Clinton,” Brendan helped out.

  “That’s right,” Louis said. A distant, wistful gaze. “Clinton. What a tool. I never told you this because I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, but I couldn’t stand that guy.”

  “Cal’s nothing like that. He’s really down to earth. You’ll love him.”

  “Don’t be so sure. You decided to get married, and I never even met the guy.”

  “You will,” Brendan said. An idea hit him. “We have an appointment to shop for tuxes on Saturday. How ’bout we get together for dinner that night? You can bring that girl you’ve been seeing—Isabel.”

  Louis looked askance. “Afraid not. Things got a little weird with Isabel. I don’t know if it’s the same in your ‘world,’ but you let one little thing blurt out of your mouth while you’re getting a blowjob and suddenly you’re a disgusting, sexist pig.”

  “That’s surprising,” Brendan told him, deadpan. “You’re such a paragon of women’s empowerment.”

  Louis scowled at him. He shrugged his big shoulders. “So I’m a work in progress.”

  “No big deal. It’ll be the three of us then. What are you in the mood for? Steakhouse? Italian?”

  His friend gazed at him squarely. “Brendan, how much do you know about this guy?”

  Brendan shrugged. “We spent just about every day and night together for the past two and a half weeks. I think I know pretty much everything.”

  “Where’d he go to college?”

  “Syracuse.”

  “Has he got a job?”

  “Right now, he’s running his uncle’s antique shop here in the city. He’s starting a master’s degree program in classical studies after the wedding. He’s like a genius in Hellenic archeology.”

  “What do his folks do?”

  “His dad works for an air conditioning company. His mom’s a medical secretary.”

  That seemed to signify something to Louis. “Whose idea was it for the two of you to get married?”

  Brendan caught his drift. “It was mine. Totally mine. Christ, Louis, give me a little credit.”

  “I’m only looking out for you, buddy. You put some thought into a prenup?”

  “I’ll work that into the conversation while we’re picking out tuxes,” Brendan told him flatly. “You
’re such a goddamn cynic, Louis. I wish you’d meet someone like Cal. It might restore your faith in humanity.”

  “And you see the world through a kaleidoscope of hearts and rainbows,” Louis said. “I love you for it. It’s like having Sam Smith as my best friend, and I don’t even have to fuck you.” Brendan gave him a cease-and-desist glare. “Actually, you’re a lot better looking than Sam Smith. If you really, really wanted me to, I’d fuck you.”

  “I think I’ll pass,” Brendan said.

  Louis came over and gave him a big hug. “Congratulations, Brendan. I really am happy for you.”

  Brendan hugged him back. Louis had his faults, a work in progress as he said, but he had also been Brendan's most loyal friend and fiercest defender, getting him back up on his feet numerous times after life punched him in the stomach, letting every guy back in boarding school know what’s what if they considered giving Brendan flack about being gay. Louis’ approval meant a lot to him, even though he could tell his friend still had reservations. But Brendan was done with overanalyzing things. All his life, every decision he’d made had been vetted through friends and family and mental health professionals, and even then, his choices had still spun around his head, never locking at a place of certainty. This relationship with Cal felt right. That was the only thing that mattered.

  Sturdy Dr. Clotilde Trapp had also agreed, though Brendan wouldn’t have changed his mind if she hadn’t. He was beginning to suspect the absentminded, old Neo-Freudian was starting to fall off her game. She’d admitted she never read his SOS text before his first date with Cal, and her reply, “Leave it to Jesus,” was meant for her husband, who was bringing home leftover saltimbocca she wanted him to feed their Chihuahua Jesús.

  As for his parents, the news was met with predictable reactions. When he told his mother, she was detached, as though he was calling about a change in plans for the weekend. His father sobbed on the phone from California and turned the conversation to the litany of regrets he had for not having been in Brendan’s life as much as he should have.

  Everything was falling into place in its familiar, dysfunctional manner. Brendan felt like he was on top of the world. He’d put aside his crutches of compulsive exercise and pharmaceuticals. He didn’t need them anymore. He’d gained seven pounds since dating Cal, which normally would have bothered him. But people told him he looked better, healthier, and Brendan felt it.