by Chris Scully
TO DISTRACT myself from Perry’s new social life, I spent the afternoon making my famous macaroons—one of the few desserts I was good at, thanks to the hours I’d spent with my former pastry chef learning to get them right. They were Perry’s favorite. And the batch came out perfectly, light and crispy enough to make him forget whatever store-bought junk his secret Santa had delivered. I didn’t dwell too long on my motives, but I boxed them up and decided to swing by Perry’s for coffee on my way to that evening’s dinner party.
The house was quiet when I used my key to let myself in. It felt empty. Perry didn’t immediately answer my greeting, and panic made my throat tight as my worst fears were realized. Calling his name, I ran around checking rooms, checking the pool, before finally realizing the house was vacant.
Perry wasn’t home.
I was so used to dropping by and him being there, that now that he wasn’t, it hit me hard. Of course he went out now and then to run errands or shop, but for the most part, his social interactions had dwindled when Dale passed. It had never occurred to me that one day he might not be here, that one day I might not be so welcomed into this house. Would it be like this from now on? No more dropping by with a pretext to check on him? No more weekly dinners?
Perry was moving on, with or without me.
Still reeling, I wandered into the kitchen, looking for some paper to leave Perry a note with the cookies, and noticed the unopened foil-wrapped box of expensive chocolates on the counter. They were from a chocolatier in town—one I knew Perry loved—and the box was decorated with a stunning red velvet bow. From Perry’s secret Santa?
I hated this guy.
It’s like he knew Perry almost as well as I did. Knew he had a weak spot for chocolate and sweets. Every gift had been thoughtful and spot-on. My gut rumbled with worry. I didn’t do jealousy, but in the back of my mind, I knew I’d been gripped with it from the moment Perry announced his intention to date again. This feeling went beyond mere competitiveness.
Setting my plain bakery box of homemade macaroons beside the chocolates, I locked up and left.
Much later that night—why had it taken him so long anyway?—I got a text from Perry. It was a photo of my empty cookie box with the caption: Yum! Best thing I’ve put in my mouth in a long time.
The text ignited a warm, fluttery glow in my stomach. Was I reading more into it than I should? I replied with a happy face and left it at that.
Simon’s advice came back to me. I knew I had to make a decision.
Did I dare throw myself into the running?
Yes.
But if I was going to make Perry forget his secret Santa, I would have to do better than cookies. Think, Joel, think. What would impress him?
Hours later, I was still stumped. All I knew was that if Perry wanted to move forward, I was going to do my damnedest to make sure it was with someone who actually cared about him.
In other words, me.
Five
As acceptance settles in, slowly the individual begins testing and exploring the new changes.
THE NEXT day was Christmas Eve and miraculously I was free. I’d planned it that way, so I’d have time to do my last-minute shopping and prep for the Robinsons’ dinner party tomorrow. But by late afternoon, everything was ready for the day ahead, which gave me time to head to Perry’s and spring my surprise.
The idea had come to me early that morning, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so nervous. About anything.
This was a big step for me. I’d never considered myself relationship material—I still wasn’t convinced I was—but once I’d made up my mind to act, I had to do something before I lost my nerve. Oh, I didn’t plan to dump all this on him like a teenager—I like you, do you like me? I’d feel him out first, see if he was interested before I laid my heart on the line.
I hadn’t called ahead, and it was only after I’d parked and was striding toward the front door that it occurred to me he might not even be home. Or worse, he might not be alone.
Just in case, I didn’t use my key but rang the doorbell like a regular visitor.
It took forever for Perry to answer the door. In fact, I was about to give up and go home when it opened, and then my mind blanked and my plan went all to hell, because Perry was standing there bare chested and dripping wet with only a towel around his hips.
“Why are you ringing the doorbell?” he demanded. “You have a key. Or has it been so long that you’ve forgotten?”
“I, ah, didn’t want to intrude. In case you had company.”
His eyebrows shot up. But he took a step back to let me in. “I was in the spa. Alone. I took a Spin class with Josh yesterday, and I’m still feeling the effects. It galls me to admit it, but I can barely walk.”
The tightness in my chest eased. Spin class. That’s where he’d been.
“I think I’ll stick to yoga and running, thank you very much,” Perry continued. “I mean, if I’m going to be this sore, I’d rather it be for other reasons.”
I blushed, my eyes dropping to the towel knotted around his waist before bounding back up to stare at the ceiling. I took a deep breath to quell the blood rushing to my groin. I hadn’t gotten this hard, this fast in a very long time.
“So you really like him, then. Josh?”
“He’s fun,” Perry said. “And nice to look at. Have you seen that ass? You could bounce quarters off that thing. What am I saying? Of course you’ve seen it.”
He fisted his hands on his hips. Don’t look. But my eyes had a will of their own and eagerly traced the dampened dusting of hair on his chest and the trail that disappeared beneath the terry cloth. I wanted to whip it off, drop to my knees, and stuff his cock in my mouth.
“Good Lord, Joel, if I’d known that all I had to do to get your attention was take off my clothes, I would have done it a lot sooner. Maybe I should have tried the bow after all.”
“Huh?” I blinked out of my trance. Heat flooded the back of my neck.
“Although I doubt I’d look as good as Josh.”
“Stop it.”
“This ass has seen better days. It’s a little saggy and—”
“I said ‘stop it.’ Josh can’t hold a candle to you.”
Perry’s lips parted in surprise—at my words or at the fact I had suddenly crowded him up against the wall, I didn’t know. Shit.
Then he tilted his head back and smiled up at me. “You know what the problem is with younger men? The world is theirs and they know it. It revolves around them and makes them greedy. They’re in a rush to experience everything. It’s like there’s a checklist they must complete before it all falls apart. But when you’re older, you start to realize the importance of slowing down, of making things last. Life is not a TV show to be binge-watched. Pleasure is to be had slowly, to be savored.” As he spoke, Perry inched forward until his lips were close enough that I could feel his breath on my face.
What was happening here?
“Want to join me in the hot tub?”
Oh God, did I. But I had plans. I took a step back and put some distance between us. I’d barely wrapped my head around being a potential suitor, and Perry was ready to get naked. “Put some clothes on. We’re going out.”
“We are? Where?”
“You’ll see. It’s a surprise.”
He pursed his lips. “Joel, you don’t have to—”
“This is not negotiable. And it’s not a pity date so don’t even try suggesting that.”
His eyes gleamed. “It’s a date?”
“No! I mean, I don’t know why I said that. You’ve got me all confused. I can’t think when you’re standing there like that.”
“Oh, Joel.” Perry kissed my cheek. “I’ll be right back.”
He skipped toward the bedroom, whipping off the towel as he went, and leaving me gaping after the pale moons of his buttocks.
Sweet Jesus. I adjusted the crotch of my jeans even as a silly grin tugged at my lips. “For the record, Perry, yo
ur ass is not the least bit saggy.”
A hearty chuckle spilled from the hallway. Perry had left his bedroom door ajar, but I waited safely in the living room for him to get dressed rather than take a peek.
“What should I wear?” he called out.
“We’re not going to the prom. Jeans are fine. Oh, and some decent shoes—not sandals.” Some perverse instinct made me wander over to the display of framed photographs on the credenza. I must have walked past them a hundred times over the years: Dale and his daughter; Dale and Perry on vacation in Hawaii with leis around their necks; a shot of Perry in front of the Eiffel Tower.
I picked up the photograph of Dale and Perry smiling into each other’s eyes at their original commitment ceremony, Dale dapper in his bow tie. My reflection haunted me in the glass, and I winced. Simon was being generous when he called me scruffy, and although I’d taken pains with my appearance tonight, I was no match for the suave and sophisticated Dale. Next to that one was another photo from their official wedding a few years later. I remembered it well. They’d been so happy.
Guilt swamped me. I’m sorry, Dale.
“Is this okay?”
Perry’s voice made me spin around. I quickly set the photo back in place. “It’s fine,” I said, barely glancing at the crisp, dark jeans and collared shirt he wore. “You’ll need a jacket too. I’ll, ah, wait for you outside.”
Safely out of the house, I dragged a breath of crisp desert night air into my lungs. What was I doing?
I heard Perry lock the door, and steeled myself. He took one look at my Harley and blanched. “Are we taking that?” he asked warily.
“Yep. Put this on.” I handed him my spare helmet.
“I’ve never been on the back of a bike before.”
“Nothing to worry about. All you have to do is stay calm, hold on, and follow my lead. We’ll take a test ride around the block if that makes you feel better.”
He fastened the strap beneath his chin, and I tested the fit to make sure the helmet wasn’t too big.
“Put your foot on the peg there and then swing your leg over the seat.”
A muted groan escaped Perry as he settled into the pillion seat behind me. “Stiff?” I asked, remembering how he said he was sore.
“You have no idea.”
“If you need me to stop, tap my shoulder, okay?”
He nodded and tightened his grip on my waist. It was only once Perry was wedged in behind me with his chest to my back and his thighs cradling my hips that I realized my mistake. The position, his proximity, was triggering way too many dormant fantasies. And it got worse. Once we completed a slow circuit around the block and were on the main roads, Perry’s arms snaked around my waist as he held on. It was a miracle I didn’t get us killed. Fortunately, we didn’t have far to go.
I eased the Harley into a tight spot on a jammed street in the Movie Colony neighborhood.
“That was amazing,” Perry said in my ear. His breath sent a shiver down my spine. “Why haven’t we done that before?”
Because my blood pressure can’t take it. As it was, I desperately needed to rearrange myself so my hard-on wouldn’t be so noticeable. I tried to do it subtly as I stored our helmets in the saddlebag, but I caught Perry’s knowing smile and found myself blushing.
“Where are we?” he asked as we walked one more block, the street growing thicker with traffic. No sooner had he spoken than the brilliantly lit gates came into view. A mob of people was gathered at the entrance to the estate, which was marked by a towering inflatable Santa facing off against Godzilla.
Perry gave a cry of delight. “Wow. I’ve heard about this place.”
“You’ve never been to Robolights before?”
“No.”
“Seriously? You’ve lived in Palm Springs for fifteen years.”
He shrugged. “I always considered it….”
“Tacky?”
Perry ducked his head.
“It is,” I said. “That’s part of the charm. Do you know the story? The guy who owns the place is an avant-garde artist. He’s spent the last thirty years designing and building these installations on his property from found objects. He’s got something like twelve million lights here. Now it’s the biggest personal display of lights in North America.”
Apprehension coiled in my gut. I was a little worried that he’d hate it, that he’d wonder why I’d brought him here. But Perry’s eyes were filled with a dazzled awe, and I began to relax. At least I was giving him an experience no one else ever had.
After paying the entrance fee, we meandered through the grounds with no particular direction in mind, simply absorbing the four acres of magical, postapocalyptic, psychedelic chaos. Holiday-themed inflatables warred with animated robotics made from leftover parts and scrap; cyborg reindeer made of mannequins pulled a gun-toting Santa in a carriage outside Santa’s Workshop. We passed a pond filled with inflatable swans and marveled at some of the huge robots.
It seemed natural when Perry slipped his hand into mine and tugged me down a tunnel lit with thousands of tiny LED lights. I had to squeeze in close for both of us to fit side by side, and when we emerged at the other end, we didn’t part.
“Does this bother you?” Perry raised our joined hands.
“No. I mean it’s not something I do a lot, but I don’t have a problem with holding hands.”
“Dale was never big on public displays of affection,” he said quietly. “Not even holding hands. I get it—it’s how things were back then—and it’s not like it was a big deal, but sometimes it hurt a little. Especially if we were around friends. When I look at some of the young men now, I’m so jealous of how easily they can show affection.”
“I know.” I resolved to hold Perry’s hand as much as he wanted.
Being with Perry like this was new, different, but surprisingly right. I knew I was in trouble when I’d spent at least ten minutes watching a carousel of pink toilet seats revolve without wanting to move on.
“If you’re still looking for a helper tomorrow, count me in,” he said.
“It’s not exactly a fun day. It’s work.”
“I know. You can boss me around all you like.”
“Now there’s a thought. I have to show up early to get the roast in the oven, but you don’t need to be there until later. How ’bout I text you the address?”
“Sounds good. And then we can have our own Christmas after?”
I hesitated. “If you want. Or the job ends once dessert is served if you have other plans.”
“Joel.” He sighed in exasperation. “I don’t have other plans. Stop pushing me away, okay?”
“I’ll try.”
He tugged on my beard. “I want to spend Christmas with you. Got that?”
I almost kissed him right there. We were close enough. It would have been perfect, with the lights and the crowds and it being Christmas Eve.
But dammit, I didn’t want to be Perry’s practice run. I didn’t want to be his first after Dale. I turned my head, and then the moment was gone.
“Let’s walk,” he said, and we set off still holding hands. “Do you ever miss being a big-time chef?”
“A spotlight in Palm Springs Life is hardly the big time. Yes, I miss the comradery of working in a kitchen, of having a restaurant family. But it’s a young man’s game—the hours, the drinking. I can’t party like I used to. And then there’s the business side, which I hate. I was spending so much time on administration that I never got to cook anymore. It became all about profit, about the brand. It certainly wasn’t about the food. That’s what I like about being a personal chef—I get to focus on the food again, on watching people enjoy it, making them happy. I don’t regret quitting. The truth is that I should have done it earlier, but I was too comfortable.”
“You don’t like change.” Perry let go of my hand and slipped his arm around my waist. I looped mine over his shoulders, his head notched just right.
“No, I guess I don’t.” We circled t
he grounds twice more before closing. “Ready to go?” I asked.
He shook his head. “We don’t have much choice. But I don’t want to go home yet. Can we drive for a while?”
“You got it.” I’d been planning to anyway. Like Perry, I was afraid to let the night end.
I took North Palm Canyon Drive out of town, the lights and buildings petering out until they disappeared altogether and we were out in the shadowy desert, surrounded only by mountains and windfarms.
“Having fun?” I shouted over my shoulder.
Perry’s laugh was swallowed by the wind. His hand crept under my jacket to rest above my belt buckle. Then his thumb burrowed behind the button of my waistband, beneath my untucked shirt. That single point of skin-on-skin contact made my blood roar like the Harley’s engine.
I swung east, toward Bonnie Bell and Whitewater Canyon. The sky was clear, the stars bright away from the city lights, and I pulled over at one point just so we could stop and watch.
“It’s so beautiful,” Perry said in my ear. “I feel like I can reach out and touch the stars.”
I nodded. I’d come out here plenty of times on my own, but there was something special about tonight. About sharing it with Perry.
By the time I finally pulled into Perry’s driveway, it was almost midnight. When he didn’t immediately jump off, I killed the bike’s engine. “Did you fall asleep back there?”
His arms hugged my torso and squeezed. “I want to invite you in so badly right now.”
“It’s the hog. It has that effect.”
He snorted a laugh into my neck. “Trust me, it’s not the bike.”
I didn’t know what to say. Part of me wanted to urge him to do it, invite me in, but my better half was terrified at the prospect. What if this didn’t work out? Where would it leave us?
Perry relinquished his hold and dismounted with only a slight stumble.
I couldn’t help but grin as he adjusted the bulge at his crotch. “Glad to see I’m not the only one uncomfortable here.”
