Sweeter Than Honey

by Jessica Payseur

  Shay wasn’t going to be around his place yet, and Bradley didn’t want to be caught sitting in his car in the parking lot, so he tossed around where to go. He could show up at Lance’s, confront him.

  He drove to the park instead. There were a few people out, exercising or walking dogs, but the river was what he was interested in. Bradley sat on a bench and stared at the water as it flickered in the light with its almost-imperceptible movement. He wasn’t sure how his life had gotten so unraveled. He wanted to show up at Lance’s and tear into him until he apologized, truly apologized. But part of him also wanted Lance back—not because he was actually fond of the man, but because Bradley wanted to be worth more than Narcisse. He wanted to be a better choice, wanted Narcisse to be the one cast aside. It was petty, and it was immature, and Bradley thought it would still feel good.

  What would they do when Narcisse had to return to France, anyway? He couldn’t be here for more than a week or two, and after that…

  Bradley didn’t know. He didn’t seem to know anything. He checked the time, stood, and decided he ought to get those pictures before he let himself be a mess tonight.

  He was early to Shay’s and decided to sit there in his car, the air inside getting hotter and hotter. He refused to loosen his tie. He got drowsy and almost dropped off to sleep when a tapping at his window made him jump.

  “Bradley?” asked Shay, the expression on his face as he peered in that of concern.

  Bradley yawned, grabbed the camera, and got out. “I was a little early. Hope you don’t mind.”

  “No,” said Shay. He stuck his hands in his pockets and made a little half-smile. “Was kinda nice to get home and see you waiting for me.” He wore a button-up—no tie—and the attire seemed strange on him. Office drone, Bradley remembered him joking. “Something wrong?”

  “If you want to stand near the beehives, we should probably get to it before we lose the light,” said Bradley, refusing to look Shay in the eye. “You want to change into something more like what you were wearing when I showed up Friday?”

  “If that’s what you like me in,” said Shay before disappearing into his house.

  Bradley sighed, fiddled with the camera. He wished he hadn’t been so distracted on Friday he’d forgotten to take the photos. He was worried what he’d do around Shay and still angry with Lance. He didn’t know what he was feeling. Confused and hurt, mostly. A little angry. Not clear-headed enough to deal with someone who’d try to get him to bed the moment he heard Bradley was single again.

  “I’ll take you out to the bees, but it’s going to be really hard to smile with you looking like someone you know just died,” said Shay, emerging from the house in jeans and pulling on his shirts as he went. Bradley got a glimpse of his chest—nice and flat—before it was hidden under cloth.

  “Nobody died,” said Bradley, harsher than he meant. If anyone should see his anger, it ought to be Lance.

  “Boyfriend?” asked Shay.

  Bradley glared. When he started marching toward the path out to the beehives, Shay kept pace with him.

  “Here if you want to vent.”

  “So you can take his place?” asked Bradley.

  “I’m not going to ask you to cheat.” Shay sounded bordering on offended. “It’s not like we’re ever going to see each other again except at the farmers’ market. Just let it out. You look like you could use it.”

  “Go stand over there,” said Bradley, debating whether he should take Shay up on the offer. Shay didn’t seem like he was intent on sex, but then that could change when he heard what had happened. And Bradley wasn’t sure he didn’t want to have a little fun with Shay. But everything was still so fresh—he’d gone from the airport to bed, bed to work, and hadn’t really thought about the situation except for the time spent in the park.

  By the time he’d taken several pictures of Shay, he’d relaxed some. Just because Lance had betrayed him didn’t mean everyone was out to get him—and Shay had been good to him. Bradley would have to learn to trust again at some point.

  “Yeah, it’s Lance,” he admitted at last, then before Shay could speak, “You have any more of those frames you could pose with?”

  “No, but I’ve got chunks of comb we could assemble on a board.” Shay didn’t pressure him to continue. “If you’re comfortable going into my house again.”

  Bradley shrugged. He had nothing against going into Shay’s house again, so he followed him back and leaned against the kitchen counter as Shay pulled out a wooden board and honey in various states, then brought it to the table to assemble it all.

  He made it look good—a chunk of comb oozing with honey on the front of the board, an open jar with one of those little honey dippers to the side and back a little, a stack of unopened jars behind that. Shay lowered himself to a chair and leaned forward, smiled. The cool, confident look made Bradley’s stomach churn, not with anxiety or pain but with the kind of pull he’d come to recognize as being drawn in. Shay was turning him on—not quite sexually, but it was leading to that. He snapped the pictures and forced himself to think of his bitterness toward Lance.

  “Picked him up from the airport last night,” said Bradley. Shay’s smile didn’t falter. “Turns out he wasn’t alone.”

  Shay must have heard the implication in his tone because he blinked hard at that and ruined his pose. Bradley set the camera aside. It didn’t much matter. He knew he had enough pictures for Beth to work with.

  “He…brought someone back with him? As a third?”

  Bradley smiled a little at that, but wasn’t amused. He shook his head. Shay leaned back, ran a hand through his hair, and whistled low. Bradley couldn’t look at him anymore, but as he stared at the floor between his feet, everything came tumbling out.

  “He didn’t even tell me. Just brought the guy back, pretended like we’d already split, and then asked for me to drive them home anyway.”

  “What a…you know, I can’t think of anything harsh enough.”

  “I drove them to Lance’s,” said Bradley, now looking at his palms. “I probably should have left them there. But I was going back anyway, and I wasn’t thinking clearly…”

  “Hey,” said Shay, leaning forward, “no reason to beat yourself up over not being more spiteful. You’re a good guy, Bradley.” He stood and started clearing away the honey from the photo shoot. “You did what you did. Nothing wrong with it. Lance is the one who should be ashamed.”

  “But he isn’t.”

  “You want him to be?” asked Shay.

  Bradley leaned forward onto the table, put his head in his hands. “I want…to not be the kind of person that gets replaced like that,” he said, words more a mumble than anything, and he stiffened as he felt Shay’s hand on his shoulder. It was a comforting touch, though, so he relaxed into it after a moment. The hurt came rushing up, the most intense it had been yet, and Bradley choked back tears, swallowed hard as his throat tightened. He forced everything down, refusing to cry.

  “For what it’s worth,” said Shay after a while, “I think he’s the biggest idiot I’ve ever heard of. I can’t imagine you as anyone replaceable, easily or otherwise.”

  “You don’t have to say shit like that.”

  “But I want to. I mean it.”

  Bradley shoved his fingers under his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. He was too tired to resist compliments, and he desperately needed to hear them, anyway, so he accepted Shay’s words. Nodded after a moment. Shay gave his shoulder a squeeze and then released him, and Bradley missed the touch immediately.

  “And now you’re going to try for me, aren’t you? Because I’m vulnerable.”

  “Ouch.” Shay began taking random food out of his refrigerator. “I’d rather you come to me. If you want to. If you’re ready. You just got your heart broken what, twenty-four hours ago. You look devastated. You need your time.”

  Bradley stared at him. After a moment, he decided to ignore that and turned back to the table.

  “The wo
rst part of it is, I’m sure it means he’s cheated on other business trips, and I never knew. I haven’t even gotten to confront him about it, and…how many people? We’ve been together two years. I lost track of the number of times he’s gone out of town.”

  “Shit. You need to get tested?”

  Bradley laughed, but the noise came out in a half-choke. Of course he’d need to get tested. Shay might have said he thought Lance an idiot, but Bradley felt he was much more of one now. For trusting Lance so much. He should have seen indications. There had to have been obvious enough signs.

  “Always wrapped it with him, but I should.” He paused. “I can’t think right now. Today was a blur. Tomorrow…” He trailed off, shook his head.

  “I can offer you a beer.”

  That sounded wonderful, but Bradley didn’t think it was a good idea. If he had one now, he didn’t think he could stop, and if he ended up getting drunk at Shay’s, he didn’t know what would happen. Even though he’d replaced his spare clothes in the car, everyone at work would notice he wasn’t dressed like usual. If he even made it to work on time. No, accepting a drink now would be to allow everything to spiral farther out of control. Shay was right. He needed time.

  “Thanks, but I should get home,” said Bradley, standing. He grabbed the camera. “Thanks for the flexibility with this. I should be done bothering you about that article.”

  Shay followed him to the door. “If you need anything, you know where to find me. And you have my number. If you want to talk.” He paused. “Or get a beer. We could gripe about exes.”

  Bradley smiled, but he didn’t feel it. He didn’t really want to gripe about exes with Shay—he wanted time with him to be more positive than that. And he’d ruined that tonight. Without even solving any of his issues. Shay had been really patient with him, too.

  “The compliments were good, too.” He took a step closer. Shay didn’t move away, even though Bradley was in his personal bubble, only inches from him. He took Shay’s hand with his free one. “Guess I needed them.”

  “Probably deserved them, too.”

  Bradley felt awkward and full of conflicting emotions, but he knew in that instant he wanted to be closer, much closer, to Shay. Without giving himself a chance to think about it, he leaned up and kissed Shay.

  Shay didn’t seem surprised. He kissed back, hand tightening in Bradley’s, other hand snaking around to rest on his back, steady him. He must have had some of the honey while he was putting the jars away because he tasted sweet, and Bradley was almost tempted to push him away from the door and stay the night anyway. If Shay would have him after admitting he didn’t know what Lance might have given him. He pulled back, met Shay’s eyes, saw how they’d turned to huge pools of hunger.

  “You were leaving,” said Shay.

  Bradley swallowed. Nodded. “Yes.” He reluctantly pulled back. Shay was giving him an out, and he should take it. It was probably too soon for this. He nodded again. “Thanks, I—your honey’s delicious.” He paused. “That…came out wrong.”

  Shay moved to get the door. “Glad you found it. Thought you might be angry I slipped it in your bag.”

  “I never opened it.” Bradley grinned. “I meant the stuff you just ate now.”

  He decided to slip away before it dawned on Shay what he was talking about. He got in his car, flung the camera on the passenger seat, and backed out without looking at Shay’s house again.

  * * * *

  Friday he was a mess. It all came out at work, as it would have had to eventually, and while Bradley hated it, he hoped the weekend would make everyone forget about it. The intern seemed particularly intent on hearing details, which he wouldn’t give. Beth muttered something about how she wasn’t surprised he was the one with the drama, which he tried to brush off. Still, Bradley was sore of ego by the time he returned home, pizza and booze in tow.

  He had plans. By the end of the night, he was either going to have Lance back, or have eradicated all evidence of Lance’s existence from his apartment. He had the junk food, the beer, the rum, and a playlist of angry music. He pulled the curtains. He was ready.

  First he called Lance every few minutes over pizza and beer until he picked up.

  “What, Brad?”

  “Thought I’d give you a chance to—” began Bradley, but Lance hung up on him. He opened another beer and called again. And again. Until Lance picked up.

  “Stop fucking calling me,” snarled Lance, sounding very irritated.

  Bradley could hear Narcisse complaining in the background, and that was the instant he decided he didn’t care about whether Lance picked him or anyone else. Better to be free of him anyway. He took a swig of beer and grinned.

  “Just want to tell you one thing.”

  “Which is?” asked Lance.

  Bradley’s grin grew. “You can go fuck yourself, Lance,” he said, and hung up.

  He half expected Lance to call back and try to have the last say. When he didn’t, Bradley grabbed up the extra pizza, tossed it in the fridge, and found an old cardboard box. Playlist on, beer in hand, he went through his apartment, purging everything of Lance’s from each room, surprised at how full the box got. He had too much of Lance’s stuff. It was like cleaning out a growing disease. When he finished, he flopped down on the couch again, feeling much better.

  Bradley woke sprawled on the cushions, unsure when he’d fallen asleep. Apparently he’d been smart enough to turn off the music at some point. He stumbled to the bathroom first, then back to the couch. He didn’t feel great, but the rum still sat on his coffee table, untouched, so he’d probably dodged a proper hangover, which was just as well. He yawned, pulled back the curtains to late morning light, and glanced at the time.

  After eleven. Still early enough to walk down to the farmers’ market, see what was left at the food truck, and enjoy his freedom a little. He showered fast, pulled on comfortable, casual clothes, and grabbed his wallet and keys, stopping at the box he’d left in front of the door. It took a moment to dig out a marker and write the word FREE on it. He left it on the curb and continued toward the park.

  Bradley felt eerily calm, and he enjoyed it. He hadn’t realized how much of a weight Lance had been, and as he strolled past booths toward the food truck, the thought that he could do whatever he wanted with his weekend made him feel even better. This was different than when Lance had been away. This was better. He even grinned at Shay as he passed, who raised an eyebrow at him.

  If Bradley stopped, he wasn’t sure what would happen. But he wanted to see, so he walked over to Shay’s table and pretended to look at honey while Shay sold jars to someone who wanted one for each of their children. When they were alone, Shay spoke first.

  “Ate all my honey and back for more?”

  “You’re opening with something that vulgar?” asked Bradley, and grinned.

  Shay’s mouth pulled to the side in amusement and he relaxed in his chair. “It’s good to see you here. I figured you’d avoid me.”

  “I’m not shy enough to do that,” said Bradley. He picked up one of the smaller jars filled with comb and examined it in the light. It really was a beautiful thing. He was beginning to see why bees had captured Shay’s interest.

  “Glad to hear it. How have you been?”

  Yesterday, Bradley would have gotten annoyed with that. Today, he felt different. He set the jar down.

  “I called him up and told him to,” began Bradley, realized there were children around, and coughed into his hand instead, “himself. Tossed all his things in a box and left it outside. Drank myself to sleep.”

  “You don’t look hung over,” said Shay, openly looking Bradley up and down.

  “I only had a six-pack. Fell asleep before I got to anything harder.” He paused, some of his confidence and good mood leaving him.

  Here he was, with Shay, every opportunity open to him, and he didn’t know what to do. What Shay wanted. What he wanted. No, he knew what he wanted, but he had no idea how to get it.
Since he’d interviewed Shay last Friday, it seemed that months had passed rather than days.

  “Here for anything in particular?” asked Shay, straightening the jars on his table and rearranging the tubs of honey comb so that one of the cheaper ones was up front beside two more expensive pieces.

  Bradley almost laughed as he remembered his original plans for him and Lance, which seemed so long ago now. “Eons ago, I meant to get some cheese and meat, maybe some olives, and make up a tray. Lance had mentioned wanting to eat some sort of cheese board with me while he was gone. Can you believe I was willing to do that for him?”

  “Sounds like a gesture he wouldn’t appreciate.”

  “I even have the wine,” said Bradley, shaking his head.

  “I like wine,” said Shay, and Bradley looked up at him, only to have him glance away. He ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry, I know it’s all still fresh for you—”

  “I would be completely willing to share my wine with you,” said Bradley. “It’s just taking up space at my place anyway.”

  “You inviting me over?”

  Bradley grinned. This entire situation was more awkward than he wanted, but if Shay was all right spending the weekend with him, he decided he didn’t care. He was almost surprised he was ready to move on so fast, and then realized he must have felt things weren’t right between him and Lance for a long time. Despite going through the motions, he hadn’t loved Lance in months now—perhaps not ever.

  Bradley was ready for someone better. He was ready to see where things went with Shay.

  “For just the wine, or…?”

  “Take a guess,” said Bradley. Shay was grinning now, too, and Bradley realized that he was driving all the customers away by taking up so much space and flirting with Shay. “You know, the cheese board still sounds good. Think you know anyone who would appreciate the romantic gesture?”