by Riley Hart
I roll my head back as warm sensations rush to my cheeks.
When we first started hooking up, after we fucked, I’d go back to my place, or he’d go back to his. But one night I managed to fall asleep on his bed while we were working on finding stock images for the event poster. After that, it became a no-brainer that we’d spend the night when we were together at whosever place we ended up at. Not cuddling or anything. It was just about convenience. Not that I haven’t imagined him accidentally rolling up close to me and holding me the way he did the morning we first met. But this morning was one of many where I woke up at his place instead of mine.
“No,” I say as he nips at the back of my neck. “You know I gotta be at my parents’ in an hour.”
I finally managed to schedule some time to see them for lunch today. This is something I’ve avoided for far too long, especially since we’ve gotten so busy with the fundraiser. It’s been a great excuse to delay something I’m not all that excited about anyway.
Travis wraps his arms around me and holds me close. “You have to go. I know.” But the way he kisses behind my ear, it’s like he doesn’t.
I pull away from his grip and spin around, the running water hitting my back. I scan over his body, taking in those muscles that have blown up even more since we’ve started hitting the gym hard for next weekend.
“Fuck you and this body,” I say.
He smiles. “What?”
“You do a bicep curl and your muscles swell up like you have an allergy to working out.”
He laughs. “I put on muscle pretty easily. And don’t act like I’m the only one getting all fit here. All those bench presses certainly haven’t hurt you.”
He grabs my pecs and squeezes.
“They have hurt me, remember?” I set my hand on my right shoulder. Although I acknowledge, as he has a grip on my muscles, that it hasn’t taken them long to firm up. Still, unlike him, I don’t have the body of a fucking god. Not that I’m complaining. Because if I can’t have it, at least I still get to fuck it.
“Just hurry on back for dinner with Steven and Raymond. We need to make sure we have everything in place for next weekend, and then we can reward ourselves with a little treat.”
“A treat?” I ask.
He moves forward, his body pressing against mine as he grabs my ass cheeks firmly in his hands.
“This ass has needs, Gary.”
“Oh, you think I’m just going to be your permanent bottom?”
“You can do whatever you want to me as long as you promise not to cut me off from that sweet ass. Although I don’t feel like you’ll be cutting me off anytime soon.”
I push him away. “I hate a man who knows how good he is in bed.”
“I get that,” he says. “It’s hotter when they don’t realize it.”
I can tell by the look he makes he’s referring to me, and I can’t stifle my grin. The feeling his compliment fills me with is concerning.
It’s just sex.
I’ve had to repeat that to myself far too often. It’s become more difficult to separate the fake relationship from whatever the fuck we’re doing now. It was easy to not worry about liking him when I didn’t know him. When I didn’t know he likes to eat waffles for breakfast and he likes listening to nineties grunge music. That despite it being older, his favorite show is Friends, but he tells everyone it’s Goldrush. He’s not just some conceited guy I’m pretending to be in a relationship with anymore. We’ve spent so much time together. Hitting the gym in the afternoon to share gossip. Heading to bars at night, me moaning about all the messes Eric makes at work and Travis telling stories about some of his clients. He’s more than a fuck buddy now. He’s a friend.
His gaze shifts quickly, as if he’s suddenly uncomfortable. As if he’s on to what I’m thinking about.
He opens the glass door to his shower, grabs one of the two towels hanging off a rack on the wall, and dries off before heading into the bedroom to change.
What have I gotten myself into?
I know what’s happening here. We aren’t coded the same way. I’m programmed to think of things in terms of a relationship. He’s coded to just want to fuck. For all I know, when I’m not around, he’s off fucking other guys all over town. Although we haven’t had much time apart and he told me he wasn’t. I don’t imagine he has a reason to lie, but there’s that part of me that’s insecure because of Peter.
I finish up my shower, dry off and throw on some fresh clothes that I brought in my laptop case, which I also packed my toothbrush and deodorant in. Not even in case I stayed over. Because I knew I would.
I finish dressing before him in his bedroom. He lies on his stomach, his laptop at the foot of the bed as he types. He glances at me occasionally, but neither of us speaks. Something weird happened in the shower there. Could he tell what I was thinking about? That’s stupid. Why am I making such a big fucking deal out of this?
It’s just sex.
There it is again!
“Guess I’ll see you tonight,” I say.
“Cool,” he replies.
I grab my laptop case, leave, and walk down the hall. As I’m about to head into the nook where the elevators are, I hear the door open. I turn and see Travis heading toward me, just the towel around his waist. I wait, curious as fuck.
“You forget something?” he asks.
He holds out his hand, my keys dangling from his fingers.
“Oh, fuck. Shit. I’m such a fucking dumbass.”
He smirks.
I take them from him and turn to enter the nook. Travis grabs my arm and turns me back around.
He moves forward and pushes me against the wall, kissing me.
A wave—like fire—rushes through me. The explosive energy I feel when he ignites that spark within me—one that spreads fast like a wildfire—leaves me shaking as my body recovers from the intensity of its power.
Overwhelming as it can be, it feels so fucking good.
I wrap an arm around him and grab the back of his head with my other, pulling him close as we kiss in a frenzy, as if we’re about to be separated for weeks rather than a few hours.
We’ve spent too much time together. We shouldn’t be doing this, but I just want a little more. That’s what I keep telling myself. Only a few more fucks and kisses. But I know it’s not this sexual chemistry that’s the problem. It’s the other shit. That I actually enjoy spending time with him. That I like being at his place or him being at my place. That I crave spending my days with him even more than I crave this hot sexual chemistry I feel when we touch.
He pulls away from our kiss and whispers, “Get your ass back quick so that I can give it what it needs.”
He leans forward a bit, and I think he’s coming in for another kiss, but he smacks me on the ass and winks.
“Later.”
He heads back to his condo, and I enjoy the show as his ass shifts about beneath the towel he wears. I’m still recovering from the desire he’s stirred…and more importantly, my fucked-up thoughts that are scrambling to make sense of what the hell we’re doing.
***
“So, what have you been up to that you couldn’t come visit your parents?” Mom asks as she picks at her baked beans with her fork.
We sit at the dining table in the same house I grew up in. In the kitchen where we used to all have dinner together.
All four of us.
Now there’s only three people at a table that seats eight. Dad sits at the head of the table, Mom in the chair adjacent to him, right beside me. That leaves three empty chairs on the opposite side of the table. One of those used to be where Caroline sat.
Since I got here an hour ago, they’ve beat around the bush. While Mom set the table with grilled cheese sandwiches, baked beans, and french fries, Dad talked about the last Braves game. But I knew we’d get around to the question I’ve been avoiding—the question I’m always avoiding.
What have I been up to? Well, I’m gay and pretending to be in a
relationship with a guy who likes my ass and who’ll move on as soon as I’ve finished helping him get the money he needs to take his business to the next level.
“Nothing much,” I reply. “Work.”
Mom and Dad glance at each other. It’s clear they aren’t satisfied with my reply.
That’s always been the answer. Because they don’t know who I am. They don’t know anything about their son. Haven’t for a long time. Ever since I realized I was attracted to guys. Ever since I started seeing guys. Hell, I was in a five-year relationship that they knew nothing about.
“Haven’t you met any girls?” Dad asks, his voice filled with concern.
“What?”
“You’re all alone downtown.”
“And you’re always working,” Mom adds. “Don’t you think it’s time you started seeing someone?”
This is not the fucking time for this conversation. Although this is what they typically say, so I’m not surprised.
“I’m fine,” I say.
I can tell they’re agitated. To them, I’ve just been living downtown on my own for so long. Working, but not having anyone to share my life with. They’re concerned about me, but in some ways, I have the added pressure of their stress about Caroline’s loneliness.
“Just don’t work too hard,” Mom says. “You’ve always been such a loner, and that worries me sometimes.”
I haven’t been a loner, Mom. I’ve just never been able to talk to you guys.
Not because they’re awful or bad parents. But because they’ve had enough to deal with. Because I can’t bear to see them look at me the way they used to look at Caroline when she upset them.
This is why I’ve procrastinated making plans with them.
I don’t like being around them and living this lie.
And now I have my sexuality and a fake relationship to worry about. Lies are so goddamn frustrating…and confusing. Hell, I think part of what’s fucking with my brain with Travis is that I’ve lied for so long that I’m actually starting to believe it.
It’d be nice if I could talk to my parents about everything I’m going through, but I can’t. And that makes me sad.
“I went and visited Caroline the other day,” Mom says, I figure to change the subject.
“And?” I ask, relieved to talk about anything but me.
Mom catches me up. Lets me know Caroline might be getting out on probation sooner than they expected. As she talks, though, I can sense her discomfort—and Dad’s, too—not just about my sister, but about me. I’ve let them down. But I’d rather just let them down than for them to feel like I’m a failure. Like they created two kids who couldn’t function like normal people in the world.
22
Travis
My door opens behind me, and my lips automatically stretch into a smile as I turn around. “Decide you want a quickie?” I ask right before I see Cody standing in the doorway instead of Gary.
“Nah, I’m good. I don’t think your boyfriend will like that,” he replies, closing the door.
“Fake boyfriend,” I remind him.
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know we still believed the fake part. My mistake.”
The fucker hasn’t stopped giving me shit about Gary in weeks. It’s starting to drive me crazy. “I’m going to kick you out. Don’t make me kick you out.”
Cody walks over and plops down on my couch. “You wouldn’t kick me out. You’re all talk, Travis. Pretty soon you’ll realize it.”
I have a feeling he’s not talking about booting him and referring to Gary. That’s not something I want to think about, much less talk to him about because as fucked up as it sounds, the lines have been a little blurry lately. We’re not in a legitimate relationship. I’m not a Peter and I never will be. The reasons we’re faking it are two of the people we’re having dinner with tonight—them and his ex-dickhead, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I like him more than I thought I would. He makes me smile even when I don’t feel like smiling. I want to touch him all the time, just because I like that I can, and I like the way his skin feels beneath mine. He makes me feel an ease I didn’t know I was missing, likely because he’s such a simple man. Even if the only place I do admit it is a dark place in the back of my head that I can easily ignore.
“Let me go get some shorts on. I’ll be right back,” I tell Cody.
“Why? I’ve seen you in a towel before. I’ve seen you in less than a towel before.” He winks at me like an idiot.
“Have you always been this annoying? Jesus, I’m going to kick your ass.”
But the truth is, if Gary happened to come back, he’d lose his fucking mind if he saw me in here wearing a towel with Cody. He would try to hide it, but all those insecurities from Petey would show up when he’s been doing so fucking good about ignoring them lately. Plus, rumors around here fly around worse than high school. It wouldn’t surprise me if someone has their binoculars out, watching us from the other tower right now.
I head into my room, pull on a pair of boxer-briefs and some basketball shorts before heading back into the living room with Cody. “What’s up, man?” I ask as I sit in the smoky-gray chair across from him.
“Nothing, really. I just haven’t seen you in a while. You’ve been busy with your boyfriend.” When I cock a brow at him he changes it to, “Your fake boyfriend. Though you know it would be okay if you lost the fake part, right?”
“Huh?” My skin feels tight all of a sudden. Relationship talk makes me itchy. “Because of you?” We’ve fucked once. He’s my friend. What in the hell is he getting at?
“No, jackass. Because of you. Because of that me tough man, don’t need anyone bullshit you believe. It’s okay to like someone. To want to be in a relationship with them. It’s okay to believe you’re enough, T.”
The tightness in my skin intensifies. Shoving to my feet, I head for the kitchen and start some coffee. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and this conversation is over.”
Cody is the only person who knows about some of the shit with my family—not all of it, but he knows my parents have nothing to do with me—mostly because he’s a nosy motherfucker but also because he’s met my brothers, and I might have gotten too drunk around him when I got into a fight with my parents one day.
“Tell me to mind my own business, and I will.” Cody stands up, walks to the bar and leans over it.
“Mind your own business. And you’re wrong. Haven’t I already told you this is only about Peter, my job, and the fact that I like fucking him? I don’t want to say it again.”
“Yes, sir!” He gives me a mock salute, and I can’t help but grin at him. “How are things going anyway? Do you have a feel for what Steven is thinking?”
“Fuck. I don’t know.” I run a hand through my hair. His question reminds me how important this is to me. “Raymond likes Gary a whole hell of a lot. That’s gotta be a plus, especially since most people don’t like me much.”
“People like you. Shut up.”
“Aww, that’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.” I tease him but I’m not in the mood. “I’m nervous. We’re going over tonight to finalize fundraiser shit. Thanks for participating, by the way.”
Cody rolls his eyes. “Please, baby boy. Like I need a reason to take my clothes off in front of people.”
He’s got me there.
We talk for a few more minutes about the fundraiser and some guy he took home last night. As soon as he leaves, I ignore the coffee I just made, head to my room, and fall face-first onto my bed.
I’m not thinking about what Cody said about relationships, getting hurt and all that other bullshit.
I’m not.
***
“You look nervous,” Gary tells me as I pull my car up in front of Raymond and Steven’s house. Inwardly, I groan because it looks like the house I grew up in—where you have to hide who you are and be absolutely perfect all the time.
“I’m not nervous,” I grit out, annoyed at myself.
“Yes. You are. You get little crow’s feet by your eyes when you’re stressing or nervous.” Gary reaches over and rubs my temple, but I jerk away.
“Did you really just tell me I have crow’s feet?”
“Only when you’re worried. It’s not like you need Botox. Just need to relax, so you can continue to look gorgeous as always.”
I realize then that he said it on purpose just to get a rise out of me and to help me relax.
“It’s just dinner. You’ll be fine. I know that’s easy for me to say since you’re actually doing this fake relationship thing for a good reason instead of just to make your ex jealous like me, but you’ll be great. I know it. The fundraiser will go well, and I have no doubt Steven is going to invest in you. I would if I were him.”
His words bounce around in my chest like a pinball machine. I would if I were him.…You’ll be great.
And somehow, those statements help, even though I don’t like that they do.
“Oh no! What happened now? You looked fine, and now you look even more nervous! Should I blow you real quick?” he asks and I wish like hell we had time for that.
“No.” I get out of the car, fully aware that I’m in Grumpy Travis mode. I have to get all my asshole behavior out before we head inside.
Gary gets out behind me, and I make myself stop to wait for him. When he reaches me, I thread our fingers together as I lead us to the front door. After ringing the bell, I look his way and mumble, “I’m sorry. I’m nervous, and I don’t know how to deal with it.”
He sighs, sets his head on my shoulder, and says, “I know, Travis.”
I sort of freeze up at the intimacy of the moment just as the door opens, and we’re standing here, holding hands with Gary’s head on my shoulder, and I hope I don’t look like I’m going to throw up.
“Aren’t you two the cutest! I remember those days when Steven and I first got together!” Raymond reaches out, hugging Gary first and then me.
Raymond shows us into the living room. Steven is sitting on the brown, leather couch with a coffee table in front of it. He stands and as I walk over, holds out his hand, which I clasp with my own. “Hi, Travis. It’s good to see you again.”
