Better Off

by Tanya Chris

  “Okay, maybe two more things. Hold that thought.”

  Mac nearly groaned out loud when Hailey pulled away. He’d been holding the thought of holding Hailey all day already. But he dutifully followed his pied piper to the metal door in the back corner of the store. He’d assumed it led to a storage closet, but when Hailey unlocked it, Mac found himself looking into a stairwell.

  “Fire exit,” Hailey said by way of explanation. “Can you climb three flights?”

  Mac rolled his eyes in answer, but by the time they’d made it to the fourth floor, he remembered why the new building plans included an elevator. And to think there were still two more floors on top of this one. For Elisa’s sake, he hoped she’d lived on the second floor. Wrangling three kids up and down several flights of stairs couldn’t be any fun.

  “What floor did Elisa live on?” he asked, hearing the shortness of his breath as they walked together down the hallway covered in ratty carpeting and lit in flickering fluorescent light. C&G was probably required to light the common areas as long as there were any tenants in the building, but what a waste of electricity.

  “She was right down there,” Hailey said with a nod farther down the hallway as he stopped in front of apartment 4H. “Why?”

  “No reason. Where are we?”

  “Yolanda’s apartment. I sort of have a key. Don’t tell.”

  Mac had no plans to tell, though it wasn’t ideal to have one of their commercial tenants running around the residential part of the building with a set of keys. He buried that thought to examine the apartment revealed by the spill of light from the hallway. Wide-plank hardwood floors shimmered at him, well polished and nicely finished.

  “We’re keeping the floors, by the way. I wasn’t expecting them to be in such good condition, though.”

  “They’re mostly not. Yolanda refinished hers.”

  “What, herself?” He squatted down to run a hand appreciatively over the floor.

  “Yolanda has skills.”

  Beyond the narrow entranceway, Mac saw an open room of decent proportions and a bank of windows through which moonlight streamed. One of the windows appeared to be made of stained glass, but on closer inspection, it was only a decal. Probably looked nice with sunlight coming through it, though. If he had himself oriented correctly, the room would get morning sun. He could imagine the jewel-toned light hitting the rosy tints of the plank flooring.

  “We’re keeping that too,” he said, pointing out the crown molding that edged the room. “What we can salvage of it, anyway. Those are the kind of architectural details that made us choose this building to start with. It’s got a lot of charm that was being allowed to rot and rust. You’ll see the plans on Monday, but Yolanda did good work here.”

  He wandered into the kitchen—impossibly small but with a tiled floor not dissimilar from what he would have picked himself. Using the light of his cell phone, he examined the cabinets. Nice heavy woodwork, the kind that held up, but unfortunately they wouldn’t be able to reuse those.

  “Still think her new place must be nicer?” Hailey hadn’t moved far into the apartment. He leaned against the wall in the entranceway, half in the light streaming in from the hallway, half out.

  “Why’d she put so much time and money into a rental?”

  “Before C&G came along, she’d lived here almost sixteen years. Not all renters are transients.”

  “What does she do?”

  “She’s a nurse.”

  “Nurses make good enough money. She should’ve bought her own place if she wanted to fix it up. That’s what people do.”

  “She’s an LPN. They don’t get paid as much as you probably imagine, and there’s always someone around here who needs help. Yolanda is quick to reach into her pocket and pull out a dollar.”

  Like Hailey was, no doubt. As if Mac didn’t give his fair share to charities. He was tempted to pull up his tax returns and show Hailey that he gave two percent every year to a variety of well-vetted charities, which was a better way to distribute aid than handing out cash to beggars on street corners.

  “Yolanda will land on her feet,” Hailey said. “But no one’s better off for her leaving the neighborhood.”

  Which was his fault. Mac got it. He rubbed his temple, feeling a headache start. He’d been so looking forward to seeing Hailey tonight. “Are you the Ghost of Christmas Present? What time does the Ghost of Christmas Future come to show me how no one will mourn my passing?”

  “I hope someone will mourn it.” Hailey came over and brushed Mac’s hand away to replace it with his own. “You said you have a sister.” Hailey’s magic fingers worked their way over his skull, sending skitters of charge down his spine. “But why not think about the legacy you’ll leave behind?”

  Mac’s legacy would be the projects he’d seen through to completion, of which this would eventually be one—far more impressive and long-lasting than a minor boost for a few individuals. Maybe he’d have Audra work in a few photos of him doing ribbon cuttings with mayors or accepting awards from humanitarian organizations. Show Hailey that Yolanda wasn’t the only one who did good.

  “Shh,” Hailey said, as if Mac had been strategizing out loud. “Maybe that was too much for one night. Let me make you feel better, take away that headache I gave you. How does a blowjob sound?”

  “Here?”

  Hailey laughed and dropped his hands. “The Ghost of Yolanda Past would come for me if I disrespected her floors that way.”

  “A blowjob sounds nice.”

  Or just holding Hailey and not talking for a few minutes. They should go back to Mac’s place, or Hailey’s if he’d rather, but when they got downstairs into Hailey’s back room, the sloppily made futon looked so appealing, so rumpled and warm and Hailey, that Mac grabbed him and toppled him down onto it without even stopping to take off his shoes.

  They could decide where to go in a minute. For now he hauled Hailey up against him and breathed, nuzzling little kisses into the top of his head, trying to figure out why this felt like home. “I needed this.”

  “Then take it. Nowhere else we need to be. You want to tell me about your day? I would ask you what has you so tense, but this seems to be your natural state.”

  The way the tension drained from him as he lay there enveloped in Hailey’s presence made him aware of how true that was. Everything was always so hectic. Whenever he got his arms around one problem, another cropped up, and today the problem of Hailey had occupied too much of his mind, taking his focus from the myriad of other issues he should have been handling.

  “Our receptionist gave notice today.”

  “Is that something you have to handle personally?”

  “No?” It was just one more thing that had to be handled, one more pebble in the shoes he walked in every day. Hailey might be a business owner himself, but he didn’t have staff to worry about. Investors, planning commissions, building inspectors, lawyers, the hundreds of people pulling at him every day, the first line of defense against which was C&G’s receptionist.

  “But you’re going to worry about it anyway,” Hailey guessed.

  “Probably. Maybe not right now.”

  Hailey rubbed his chest, and Mac let his eyes close as the threat of a headache faded. It had to be after ten o’clock, and if they were going to fool around, they should get going on it. He tugged at the band holding Hailey’s hair up to set it free around them, welcoming the wash of patchouli that came with the tumble of glossy waves. The sheets smelled faintly of what they’d gotten up to last night, and when Hailey drew the dark green comforter up over them, Mac found the strength to toe off his shoes but not much else.

  “What kind of work did Elisa do? I mean”—he was going to regret this—“she could come in and apply for that job. But Hailey, she’d have to be reliable. And it’s a professional environment. We can’t have—”

  “Greg. You’re trying to do something nice here. Don’t spoil it by being classist. I recognize that you have to consider yo
ur company’s needs, and I appreciate the offer. You’re not so bad, are you?”

  That was it. That was what he’d needed to hear. If Elisa didn’t work out, he’d have to let her go, but the inconvenience was worth Hailey’s approval, however brief.

  When his alarm went off, Mac reached for his nightstand and smacked his hand into the wall. The resulting pain woke him up enough to realize that he was in the back room of Hailey’s Comic with all his clothes on and his phone in his pocket. Ugh.

  He peeled Hailey off him so he could shut off the alarm, then ran a hand over his face to clear the sleep from it. They hadn’t even fooled around last night. Which was a waste, his cock was reminding him now.

  “Morning.” Hailey nipped at his mouth with a quick kiss, then drew back with a smile. “I guess we crashed, huh?”

  “Apparently. Is there a bathroom back here?”

  “Only the one out front. There’s a toothbrush in the cabinet over the sink if you don’t mind sharing.”

  Mac stretched himself to his feet. He shuffled into his loafers and went out and used the toilet, then, after a moment’s consideration, the toothbrush and toothpaste he found in the cabinet.

  Funny how intimate using Hailey’s toothbrush felt considering he’d had Hailey’s tongue in his mouth, not to mention his cock. Hailey must make a habit of falling asleep here, given the mattress and the assortment of toiletries in the cabinet. He had everything he needed to take a shower except the actual shower.

  The bathroom featured a single toilet, free of piss dribbles or shit streaks but showing the signs of years of hard water, and a sink similarly stained. The grab bars, an obvious retrofit, gleamed with a newness that contrasted with the linoleum, worn to a faded grey in front of the toilet and sink but appallingly colorful around the edges of the room. Some things looked better faded.

  He splashed some water over his face and managed to get the ancient paper towel dispenser to dispense some paper towels, then opened the door to find Hailey waiting on the other side.

  “Don’t disappear on me,” Hailey admonished with a quick kiss before darting into the bathroom himself.

  He should get going, though. He needed to swing past his loft to shower and change, and his day started early on Fridays with a team check-in. At which he would have to report not having made any progress on the Hailey’s Comic problem after confidently stating at the last meeting that he would handle it.

  Monday. It would get handled Monday.

  “I was hoping you’d have time for that blowjob I promised,” Hailey said when he came back out of the bathroom.

  “Rain check for tonight? How about you come to my place?”

  “Where do you live?” Hailey wrinkled his nose when Mac told him. “Store closes at eight. I can’t get out of here until eight thirty, and the buses won’t be running by then. It’s kind of far to bike.”

  “You don’t have a car?”

  Hailey had mentioned keeping a bike out back, but Mac had assumed it was a green option for fair weather days.

  “No car,” Hailey confirmed. “Sorry. You’re welcome to come back here tonight.”

  Mac shook his head. He’d already spent too much time at Hailey’s Comic. A blowjob sounded good, but he’d also like to fuck Hailey, and for that he needed better furniture, or at least more space to roll around in. Plus, he liked the thought of having Hailey in his home, of seeing him set against a more attractive background.

  “I’ll pick you up and bring you to my place. Eight thirty?”

  Hailey nodded. “Yeah, okay. Text me when you’re here and I’ll come to the back door.”

  “You’ll have your phone on?”

  “Yes, Dad.” Hailey leaned in to kiss him. “Or we could fool around now.”

  Mac didn’t know why they couldn’t fool around both now and later, except of course he’d said he had to get going, but if Hailey thought now would be a substitute for later, then Mac was definitely saying no to now.

  “Later.” He gave Hailey a last kiss and let himself out the back, both pleased and surprised to find his car in one piece on the other side of it. They’d have to get some security cameras in addition to new arc lights. And if he was going to fall asleep here, they’d have to do it sooner rather than later.

  Chapter Seven

  “Shh.” Hailey greeted Mac with a finger to his lips. Through the curtain separating the back room from the store, Mac heard the murmur of a voice. ESL lessons, book clubs….

  “What’s on tonight’s agenda?” he asked, keeping his voice low as requested.

  “AA meeting. And it’s supposed to be anonymous, so I try to give them a sense of privacy.” Hailey shooed him toward his car.

  “You don’t have to stay to lock up?”

  “Nah, they’ve got keys.” He clambered into the car when Mac unlocked it for him.

  Mac got in on his own side more slowly. “So you’re just going to leave a bunch of drunks on their own in your store?”

  “They’re not drinking, Greg. And you shouldn’t use that word. They use it themselves sometimes, but it’s like the N-word, not something outsiders should say. They’re alcoholics. They have a disease.”

  “Okaaay, so you’re going to leave a bunch of alcoholics to act out their disease in your store?”

  “They’re not acting on it, they’re treating it. Stop judging. And yes, I leave them there. It’s Friday night, and I spend too much time in that store as it is. Usually I go hang out down the street somewhere. The neighborhood gets pretty active on the weekends.”

  Mac had definitely had to dodge a lot of bodies to maneuver his car through Ball’s End and into the alley behind Hailey’s Comic tonight. He’d also noticed that the spot behind Hailey’s Comic was the only one open.

  “This is a treat for me, though,” Hailey continued. “Getting to go somewhere. Are we going somewhere?”

  “Um, just back to my place.” Should he have made better plans? He hazarded a sideways glance at Hailey to see if he was disappointed, but he looked relaxed and happy, dressed in a flouncy purple shirt that was close to sheer and a pair of shiny black pants. Mac wondered if those were his date clothes.

  “Your place is somewhere,” Hailey answered with a shrug. “Somewhere new to me, anyway, and I suppose there’s no point hitting a club when I already know who I’m going home with.”

  “Any gay bars in the neighborhood?”

  “No. In a place called Ball’s End, you’d think there would be, but blue collar still means machismo, especially with men of color. No one gives me a hard time personally, and I’m pretty rainbow-tastic, so it’s not like people don’t know, but there’s not a lot of other guys around who’re out. Some lesbians.”

  “So if you don’t have a car, and the buses don’t run at night, and there aren’t any other gay men in the area, how do you…?” Oh, of course. “You’re pan, aren’t you.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “You definitely seem like the love everyone type.”

  Hailey laughed. “I do try to love everyone, but I’m only sexually attracted to a particular package. The heart wants what it wants. Or, in this case, the dick wants what it wants.”

  From the corner of his eye, Mac could see Hailey evaluating his packaging. A thrill shot through him at the thought of Hailey unwrapping it. His loft was a frustrating distance from Hailey’s store, and Friday night meant traffic was heavy everywhere, not just in Ball’s End.

  “So how do you get laid, then?”

  “It’s been a little slow since I moved here, to be honest, but just because there aren’t a lot of guys who’re out in Ball’s End doesn’t mean there aren’t plenty of guys who’re gay.”

  “Miguel?” He hadn’t forgotten about the kid giving him the evil eye last night.

  “You’re the jealous type, aren’t you?”

  “Not usually.”

  “Well, you can stand down about Miguel. He’s a teenager. Miguel’s older brother, on the other hand….”
>
  “You’ve hooked up with Miguel’s older brother?”

  “I’m not going to out anyone,” Hailey said, “so let’s just say that if Miguel had an older brother, and if he happened to be gay and as good-looking as Miguel is going to grow up to be, I’d be down for it.”

  Mac reminded himself that he and Hailey had had two whole dates—or none depending how you counted—and that Hailey didn’t owe him anything now and certainly hadn’t owed him anything in the past.

  “So that’s what you do? Hook up with guys who aren’t out? Don’t you want more than that?”

  “Of course. Not that I’m slut-shaming. If a thing feels good and it’s not hurting anyone, go ahead and do it. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t love a deeper commitment—to find that one person who helps me be everything I’m meant to be and achieve everything I’m meant to achieve. Like my parents did.”

  “Selling patchouli at music festivals is life goals?”

  “It is for them. We all have different goals. The point is to find someone who shares them.”

  Mac compressed his lips into a tight line, keeping his eyes firmly on the road. He didn’t necessarily agree. He and Lauren had shared the same goals, and it hadn’t made them anything but bored with each other.

  “It’s the one thing that’s always been missing in my life,” Hailey said with a sigh. “I was happy enough traveling with my parents as a kid, but I knew I didn’t want to stay in that life, so there was no point getting too attached to anyone. Then college was like a smorgasbord.”

  “Did some sampling, did you?” It wasn’t as if Mac hadn’t had his share of sex in college. That was probably one of the main purposes of college.

  “I found my way into a lot of sex, yes, but I was talking more about the community. The festival scene is very heteronormative—not judgmental, but not my people either. Then I got to college and there were all the letters of the QUILTBAG rainbow and I just ate it up, but I didn’t find the person I’ll spend the rest of my life with there. How about you? Did you get around in college?”