Hesitant Hearts

by Jerry Cole

  “Sorry, can’t,” Isaac said easily. He was still laughing at Patrick, but it only served to have Patrick grinning back like an idiot instead of annoying him. “My momma raised me right.”

  “Damn straight I did,” a voice said from the stairwell, and Patrick looked up to see a woman about his height standing outside of a blue door, her arms folded across her chest, and dressed in slacks and a blouse. She had Isaac’s nose and his eyes, and her hair was the same shade of blonde.

  “Mom,” Isaac said, jogging up the last few steps and sweeping his mom into a hug.

  “Isaac,” Sarah said laughing, slapping Isaac on the arm. “I know you saw me last week, put me down.”

  Patrick took the stairs slowly, not wanting to intrude before he had to.

  Sarah was watching him carefully, and Patrick swallowed, grateful that he could hide slightly behind the lilies. “You must be Patrick.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Patrick said, giving her a small smile. It wasn’t his usual, facing-the-public smile, but one he kept for his friends – and Isaac – and hoped it was the right thing to do. Putting on the public persona wouldn’t endear Sarah to him at all. That much he was aware of, thanks Eddie, and he was damned if he was gonna embarrass himself, and Isaac, right now.

  “Sarah, please,” Sarah said, smiling. She had the same dimples that Isaac did and God, Patrick couldn’t do anything but love her instantly. Unless she turned out to be marginal, of course, but Patrick doubted that. “Are those for me?”

  “Thank you for having me for dinner,” Patrick said, feeling like a teenage kid courting someone for prom.

  Sarah rolled her eyes, yet another trait her son had picked up from her and took them from him. “We both know you didn’t have to do that if you want to impress me.”

  “I told you,” Isaac said, looking smug.

  Patrick slipped his hands into his pockets, feeling awkward. “Never done this before, Mrs. Carter. Still learning what’s good and what’s not.”

  There was a startled look on Isaac’s face, but Sarah’s narrow-eyed look was more searching. “Never?”

  Patrick shrugged easily, feeling the shame pool in his belly, but he refused to give into it. He was a grown man. “Thought Isaac was worth going through the horror.”

  Sarah laughed, almost startled by it, and she nodded decisively, gesturing toward the open door. “I like you, Patrick. Come on, you two, the veg won’t peel themselves.”

  Patrick hesitated, only moving when Isaac propelled him forwards. “We have to help peel the veg?”

  “Don’t worry,” Isaac said easily, running a hand through Patrick’s already-messy hair. “It won’t hurt.”

  Isaac was a liar; Patrick couldn’t remember the last time he’d peeled his own veg. Not that he bought it pre-peeled or anything, but he generally just cooked meals without, or takeout, just generally leading an unhealthy lifestyle. He hadn’t told Isaac that yet, mostly because he knew a life overhaul was in his future if he made that mistake, and there were some steps he just wasn’t willing to take.

  Sarah was funny and smart, and seemed more than willing to embarrass Isaac as much as possible. Patrick’s face hurt from all the smiling, feeling more at ease the longer he stood in the kitchen with Isaac and his mom, and when they were done, Isaac begged off for the bathroom, and Sarah leaned against the stove, folding her arms over her chest.

  Patrick refused to shift under her gaze, even if she was intimidating.

  “I thought you’d be different,” Sarah said eventually.

  “In what way?” Patrick asked.

  “Patrick Wright, to the public, is a very different character from the guy standing in my kitchen right now.”

  Patrick should have known she would have looked him up. Isaac had, and that much he knew, but the fact that Sarah had, and would have agreed with anything written about him, made his stomach swoop dangerously. “Not all of it’s true.”

  Sarah inclined her head. “Some parts are.”

  “Some,” Patrick agreed, swiping a hand over his face. “I know I’m not – maybe what you’d want for your son. I drink too much, my history is all over the internet, and I don’t think before I speak.”

  There was a stony silence, Sarah obviously not wanting to interject, and Patrick straightened up, silently begging Isaac to come back soon, but also hoping he stayed away and didn’t have to listen to this. If Sarah was going to take exception to Patrick, he wanted the dinner to at least go without tension.

  “I love Isaac,” Patrick said eventually. “And I want him to be happy.”

  Sarah’s mouth curved into a small smile. “That, I believe,” she said eventually. “He thinks the world of you, and I don’t think he’d appreciate me getting in the way of that.”

  Patrick shrugged. “Nonetheless, I’d step back if it’s what you wanted.”

  “I appreciate that,” Sarah said quietly. “We both know Isaac would ignore what I wanted if he wanted you badly enough, but the fact that you’d do that is worth a lot in a mother’s eyes.”

  “Good,” Patrick said, shifting uncomfortably, glad when he heard the flush pulled down the hall.

  “I’d like to get to know Patrick, instead of Patrick Wright,” Sarah said, quietly enough that Isaac couldn’t overhear.

  Patrick nodded, throat thick with emotion, unable to get out any words before Isaac appeared in the doorway. He looked between them, but obviously didn’t see anything amiss.

  “Dinner ready?”

  “Lay the table?” Sarah asked, gesturing at the cutlery drawer.

  “All right?” Isaac asked, when Patrick moved to help him.

  “I like her,” Patrick said, deliberately not looking in Sarah’s direction. “I think she likes me too.”

  Isaac looked smug when he said, “I told you so,” and Patrick managed not to say it’s early days because even he knew that wouldn’t be tactful in front of Isaac’s mother.

  Didn’t stop the words bouncing around his skull. Always his own worst enemy and sabotaging his own happiness. Maybe Isaac was the person he needed to get over himself.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Breaking the ice with Sarah had seemed like a monumental occasion, but nothing much changed. Isaac still texted Patrick whenever he had a spare moment, Patrick still went out too many nights in a row and had Rebecca calling to get his ass into work. They had dinner with Sarah a couple of times a week, and their friends were still nosey assholes who wanted to know far too much about their relationship.

  “You know,” Jake said, the next time they were out for drinks.

  Patrick hadn’t wanted to come, Isaac unable to attend thanks to – well, something Patrick wasn’t able to figure out, and he had work that needed doing. Unfortunately, Gary and Rebecca had tag-teamed him into coming along, and he was currently squished into the booth thanks to Sven’s elbows and Natasha’s narrow-eyed glare.

  “You know what?” Patrick said, kicking Jake under the table.

  “You’re disgusting,” Jake informed him, shoving a twenty in Gary’s hand when he came back with drinks. Patrick dug in his back pocket for his own wallet, but Jake waved him off. “I’ll pay for your drink if you tell me how good Isaac is in the sack.”

  “Why do you even want to know?” Patrick snapped. As if he was gonna jerk-off and tell. Isaac’s dick was his business, thank you.

  Jake shrugged, smirking. “Because it means I see that offended expression on your face. As if I haven’t already seen Isaac’s dick.”

  Natasha rolled her eyes. “You haven’t seen everybody’s dick, Jake. Just because you used to be on the same soccer team, doesn’t mean you hung out in the showers measuring dicks.”

  Wiggling his eyebrows, because he was actually twelve, Jake grinned. “So says you.”

  Patrick wasn’t going to rise to it. He wasn’t. He was the bigger man. He opened his mouth to say something, but Sven slapped a hand over his mouth. He clearly had more strength than he realized, because Patrick’s head knocked
into the headrest.

  Sven looked sheepish. “Oops.”

  “Oops?” Patrick said, shoving Sven’s hand away. “What the hell?”

  “I was trying to prevent you saying anything to Jake.” Sven said.

  “Stalls, not communal,” Natasha chimed in. “He’s shitting you, Wright.”

  Jake sighed. “You’re all dicks. I almost had him.”

  “You did not,” Patrick protested. It was a lie, so sue him. He couldn’t let it stand that Jake thought he knew more about Isaac’s dick than the guy currently fucking him. All right, so they’d only had sex twice – three times if you counted that time in the elevator – but Patrick was working on it. “Besides, Isaac would never have found out.”

  Nobody around the table said anything for a beat, and Eddie blew out a breath. “I felt for sure he’d walk up as you said that.”

  Patrick scowled down at his glass. When had he finished that? He was sure it had been full a few minutes ago. He eyes Gary’s glass, currently in reach. Gary wasn’t paying attention to it, he was too busy trying to get Sven to pay for his drinks. “He’s not coming.”

  “He told me he’d be late,” Natasha said, frowning. She had her phone out of her pocket, scrolling through her messages.

  That didn’t mean anything. Maybe Isaac had just – he’d text to say he wouldn’t be able to come, but maybe he’d text Natasha after. That would make more sense.

  “When?”

  “This morning,” Natasha said easily, and Patrick could see the texts on her phone.

  “He texted me about two hours before,” Patrick said, fumbling for his own phone. “He said he couldn’t make it.”

  Natasha didn’t have anything to say to that, just pursed her lips and started tapping away at her phone.

  Great. Isaac was – lying? Or changed his mind midway through the day. That would make the most sense, right? Didn’t have to mean he was out somewhere else, especially if most of his friends were here with Patrick. Sam wasn’t, but that didn’t have to be bad.

  “Oi,” Sven said, sliding his glass across the table. Patrick took it gratefully, ignoring Natasha’s admonishment. “What?” Sven continued, staring at Natasha. “He looked like he could use it.”

  “That’s the problem,” Natasha muttered, and swiped the glass out of Patrick’s hands. It was mostly gone, so Patrick wasn’t too broken up, but Natasha wasn’t done. “No more drinks for you.”

  Patrick snorted. “If you think I’m sobering up, you’re mistaken.” He nudged Sven with his elbow. “Wanna let me out, big guy?”

  “Going somewhere?”

  Patrick looked up, startled. “Isaac?”

  Isaac was grinning, loose and easy, like he hadn’t been vague enough to worry Patrick. There was a black guy standing just behind him, tossing Eddie a mock salute, and another guy in a jacket, hair just a touch too long. “Sorry I’m late.”

  “’Not coming,’” Patrick quoted, waving the phone still in his hand. “Thought you’d stood me up, Carter.”

  “I thought you were kidding when you called him dramatic,” the long-haired guy said.

  Patrick narrowed his eyes, but Eddie was sighing. “Patrick’s always like this.”

  Patrick bristled, hating the casual way it was said, like he caused incidents every time he went out, which was bullshit. Isaac was watching him carefully.

  “Sorry, Patrick,” he said, elbowing the long-haired guy when he opened his mouth. “I should have told you I might be late, not that I wasn’t coming, but I had to pick up Michael from the airport.”

  “Sure,” Patrick said, flashing a smile. It missed its mark if the tight look around Isaac’s eyes was accurate. “You’re Michael, I take it?”

  The long-haired guy nodded. He moved around Isaac, leaning a hip against the table. He was attractive, someone Patrick would definitely have tried to get into bed a few years ago, but Patrick’s eyes slid to Isaac’s.

  “He’s been my friend since we were kids,” Isaac explained, still watching Patrick’s face. Patrick was uncomfortable and tapped his fingers on the table, desperate for another drink.

  “All right,” Eddie said. “Sam and I are getting drinks in. Same again for everyone?”

  Natasha stood on Patrick’s foot and he elbowed her in the ribs. “You know what I love, Eddie Bear.”

  Isaac scowled, but whatever, he didn’t get to intervene when he showed up late and gave Patrick a heart attack.

  “Patrick,” Natasha warned. “I will stab you.”

  Patrick pouted, but it didn’t have any effect. Natasha was clearly determined to stop him embarrassing himself, but Patrick had to put up token (actual) protest.

  Isaac and Michael were currently trying to squeeze themselves into the booth, which was doable but a tight fit, and meant that Patrick ended up with more of Sven’s elbows in his face.

  “Jesus, how many arms do you have?” Patrick groused, flopping forward onto the table.

  Sven laughed, making Gary and Patrick wince, but had the others laughing too.

  Jake stuck his hand in Michael’s face. “Jake Barton.”

  “I remember,” Michael said, shaking Jake’s hand quickly. “You were on his soccer team.”

  “Good memory,” Patrick muttered, ignoring the look Isaac shot him.

  “Yep,” Michael said, popping the p. “And you’re Patrick Wright.”

  Patrick didn’t bother to grace that with a reply, just waved his hand in the air next to his head. He was grateful when Sam and Eddie returned with the drinks, sliding them across the table. Patrick could feel Isaac still watching him and did his best to ignore it, staring down at the amber liquid in his glass.

  Michael seemed to fit right into their little group, and Patrick found himself liking the guy despite himself. Isaac had never said anything about him, and he couldn’t remember Jake or Natasha talking about him. Isaac didn’t seem to think it was odd that he hadn’t introduced Patrick and Michael before now but did relax when they eventually stopped sniping at each other.

  That probably has more to do with the fact that Patrick kept drinking as the night wore on, and his tongue got looser and looser. Most people liked him the drunker he got, but even as Michael laughed more at Patrick’s jokes, Isaac’s eyes got tighter and tighter.

  “Someone taking you home?” Isaac asked,

  “Me, for my sins,” Gary said. Even he was throwing concerned looks at Patrick when he thought Patrick was distracted, and Sven had stopped sharing his drinks. “I promised Rebecca.”

  “As if I’d try and drive like this,” Patrick said, lip curling.

  “I think it has more to do with her not wanting you to get mugged and killed,” Gary pointed out. “You ready to leave sometime soon?”

  “Sure,” Patrick allowed. Nobody was buying him drinks anymore, and he really didn’t want to sit here and watch Isaac and Michael have fun. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  Eddie and Sam shifted out of the booth.

  “We’re gonna head off,” Sam said, clapping Michael on the shoulder. “We’ll see you at work tomorrow?”

  “Sure,” Michael said easily, nodding at Eddie as he passed.

  Patrick grinned at Natasha. “Always a pleasure, Natasha.”

  “For you,” Natasha griped, but she pressed a kiss to Patrick’s cheek anyway. “Get sober.”

  Isaac was staring at him as he clambered out of the booth, accepting the one-armed hug Sven dragged him into, and the stabilizing hand Gary placed on his arm. Jake was half-asleep on the table, the only other person to match Patrick drink for drink, and Natasha was looking at him with disdain, muttering something about carrying his drunk ass home.

  “Give us a sec?” Isaac was saying, and Michael nodded, letting Isaac out of the booth.

  Great. Patrick didn’t want to have a conversation with Isaac, not when he was drunk and apparently jealous, but Isaac said something he couldn’t hear to Gary and tugged Patrick over to a secluded corner by the door.

  “Patrick
.” Isaac shifted his feet. Nervous, then. Patrick hated being right. “I should have texted you again, but I really didn’t know what would happen.”

  Patrick scrubbed at his face, lifting one shoulder in a half-hearted attempt at a shrug. “Does it matter?”

  Isaac frowned. “Of course it does.”

  “I’m drunk,” Patrick said eventually, tired and ready to leave. He didn’t want to be here, having this conversation, and he definitely didn’t want to have to shift his world view – including his relationship with Isaac – to include someone called Michael who was apparently Isaac’s best friend, but who Patrick knew nothing about. “I can’t have this conversation when I’m mad at you.”

  “You’re mad at me?” Isaac’s face actually fell, and Patrick wondered if this was happening. Maybe he’d fallen face first onto the table and was unconscious.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t be?” Patrick gestured toward the table, where Michael was still sitting. “You didn’t tell me anything about him, and you show up here after telling me you wouldn’t be coming and I thought,” Patrick cut himself off before he could say what he had thought. He didn’t need Isaac knowing about that. “I have a right to be mad, I just need to go home right now, all right?”

  Isaac looked like he might argue some more. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then nodded slowly. “All right. I’ll call you tomorrow?”

  Patrick shrugged, glad to see Gary making his way toward them. “Sure. Just not until about two or whatever, all right?”

  “All right,” Isaac agreed, and he hesitated, eyes darting to Gary and then back. “Let me know you get home okay?”

  “I’m with Gary,” Patrick said. “He’ll make sure.”

  Thankfully, Isaac didn’t say anything else, and Patrick let Gary lead him out to his car, bundling Patrick into the passenger seat and not saying a word. Patrick pressed his face to the cold glass, could still see Isaac hanging around the doorway looking sad. Fuck him. Patrick could feel the jealousy stirring again in his stomach and he shook it off, closed his eyes.

  Fuck Isaac. Fuck Michael. Fuck everything.

  Chapter Eighteen