by Willa Okati
“Pretty eyes,” Donny said, taking Gavin’s glasses off and tossing them onto the desk. “God, you are gorgeous. I made a mistake walking away from you. Hey.”
Hey. One small word. One refrain. Gavin couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t stop Donny from bending and kissing him, his lips soft, his cologne sharply crisp, and the heat of his body making Gavin sweat. Reflex. Gavin’s lips parted to let Donny in.
“That’s my boy,” Donny said. He slapped Gavin playfully on the hip and laughed when Gavin put his hand to his mouth. “God, I love how shy you are. Totally cute. Okay. Eight o’clock tonight good for you?”
“Donny, I…” Gavin rubbed his lips. They tingled. “I didn’t say yes.”
Donny waved airily at him. “I’m going to go look up some of the guys. Do you still live in the same place?”
“No.”
“I’ll find you.” Donny grinned cheekily. “I’ll call you. We’ll hook up. It’ll be like old times.”
“No.”
Donny blew him a kiss. “Old stick-in-the-mud. It’s cute. I wish I’d remembered that sooner. I promise it’ll be good. Besides, you don’t have someone in your life right now, do you?” He didn’t wait for an answer. Assuming Gavin didn’t. He wouldn’t have, back then. “See you at eight, gorgeous.”
He left as quickly as he’d come, slamming the door casually and carelessly behind him. Hard enough that the door bounced back and in. The rush of air knocked the deer and bicycle off their precarious balance, off the desk. They broke apart when they landed.
Gavin crouched to pick them up, but his hands were shaking too hard. No. No no no no no --
In that position, with the broken deer in his hands, he was at the perfect angle to see small feet in polished wingtips stopping in his doorway. To look up and see Roger leaning just as cockily as Donny had on the door, dusting off his hands. “That’s one-nil,” he said. “Your turn.”
Gavin was quite aware of rising to his feet, of putting the deer, kitten, and bike carefully in the middle of his desk. “You told him. Looked Donny up and told him where to find me.”
Roger smirked.
“You told him.”
“You sound like a broken record. Want me to change your needle? No, wait. You’ve got that hockey moron to grease your gears. And now you’ve got the pretty-boy idiot as well, and isn’t that going to be --”
He didn’t get to finish that sentence. Gavin had never hit a man with his fist before. Hurt like hell, but by God he wished he’d done it sooner.
* * *
Gavin closed the museum door behind him with a soft click.
Fired. They’d told him to pack up and go. He guessed that happened when someone broke a man’s nose, when he had to be pulled off before he kicked his opponent in the head.
Huh. Who’d have thought?
Roger had gotten in a few strikes back. No one seemed too busy bothering to worry about the dizziness that beset Gavin. He hadn’t minded. When they’d said go, by God, he’d been glad to leave.
So odd. This place used to be the home he cared about. When had that ceased to be? Maybe the minute Ford came in to take him out. Maybe when Donny sailed in as if nothing had ever happened.
Maybe it never had been that way after all.
He had no idea where to go. Clinic, to get patched up? Home, to take care of the problem himself?
To Ford’s? No. Not yet. Gavin wanted the world to steady a bit beneath his feet, despite the urge to run to him. He wanted to get his own balance first.
“Where” would have to come to him. What to do -- that, Gavin knew with a sudden clarity that seemed too bright and cold, like staring into an ice-coated sun.
On the surface, it made no sense. But it was what had to be done. Not just for himself either. For Ford, who’d be proud of him for everything today, and maybe this most of all.
Things didn’t seem so impossible anymore. No. That wasn’t fully right. Things like putting his trust in Ford, who’d been nothing but trustworthy, didn’t seem impossible at all anymore.
Ford was something he could believe in.
* * *
Gavin knelt in front of the bookcase Oscar had hidden beneath. They’d both been there for what, close to an hour? His knees ached even with the pillow he’d put beneath them for padding.
Didn’t matter.
A line of cat treats, still good inside the package Gavin had bought back when he didn’t know any better, stretched between man and wild animal. Untouched. So far.
Gavin said nothing. Only waited. Watched Oscar flick his tail back and forth, but never looking away from Gavin, fixed firmly in his sights. He’d never locked eyes this long with Oscar before. He could grow hypnotized staring into those windows to the wild animal’s soul.
He wouldn’t call this a test, nor a sign, nor any kind of Twilight Zone moment. He wouldn’t. Just… something he needed to do, to see if he had this much courage now. This kind of faith that would last, that Ford had given him.
“It’s okay, Oscar,” he murmured. “You’re safe.”
Oscar narrowed his eyes, clearly dubious. Yet he inched forward. Gavin almost thought he’d been mistaken, but there was Oscar’s paw almost at the edge of one treat.
Gavin waited, breath held tight.
Almost delicately, Oscar drew the treat underneath the bookcase and, with himself, out of sight.
Not much, but it was a start. Gavin even thought he heard Oscar crooning the smallest of rough-rasped purrs.
All right, then. As signs went, it wouldn’t make sense to anyone else but him and Ford. He wasn’t sure he believed in it. But it gave him confidence in what he wanted to do.
Maybe that was the whole point in believing, even in things that weren’t and couldn’t really be true.
Gavin found the phone in his pocket without looking and dialed Donny’s number. There or not, he had a message to deliver, and it could go to voice mail as long as the words could be spoken.
Either it wasn’t much, or it was everything. Maybe both.
And it was a start.
* * *
“You said I could come up for coffee and cookies. You didn’t tell me I’d need hip boots or maybe a shovel.” Kayla stood on tiptoe at the threshold and shaded her eyes to peer into Ford’s apartment. “View halloo!”
“It’s not that bad. Your choice. Thin Mints and chocolate macaroon thingies with fresh coconut going once, going twice --”
“Sold.” Kayla daintily picked her way into the apartment. Honestly, it wasn’t terrible. Mostly. Ford lived by the “if I still know where things are, it isn’t actually a disaster” rule. And he knew what Kayla’s endgame was. Cheering him up.
Ford shook his head at himself.
Kayla took a light seat on the couch -- after poking the cushions. “Okay, spill.”
“Where?”
“Not on the couch, you idiot. Unless you’re in the habit of” -- she made a surprisingly rude gesture and a couple of honking noises -- “over here. In which case I have to say nice job with the spot removal.”
Another reason to love Kayla was how she didn’t hop right up with a heartfelt “eww!” at the idea of sitting in a love nest. All the cozy family feeling of a kid sister without the sibling awkwardness at times like these.
“In the past, yeah,” Ford said in the interest of honesty. “Lately? No.”
Kayla tipped her head like a bird. “I know you’ve gotten some.”
“Kayla,” Ford protested.
She got why he didn’t care for the phrasing, and patted his knee in apology. “I know you’ve been together. It’s always at Gavin’s? Makes sense to me. He seems like the kind of guy who’s comfier on his home turf. Now, spill. There’s something wrong with this picture. There has been all night.”
Ford popped off the couch as if the springs were loaded, and made smartly for the kitchen. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Uh-uh.” Kayla had such a light step and quick bound that she shocked the
heck out of Ford by pushing her way under his arm without him having known she’d left the couch and before he’d managed to snag the cookies off the shelf. She peered up at him from beneath the mass of his solid arm and petted as high up as she could reach. “You look… I don’t know, Ford. I’ve been trying to figure it out. Something’s bothering you.”
Ford mumbled under his breath, sighed, and pushed his hands through his hair. “Sort of?”
“Gotcha. Forget the cookies. Talk to me.”
There was a strangeness in being commanded to confide in a five-feet-nothing currently dressed in vintage Jams and a Lady Gaga T-shirt, but what the hey, right? Ford always did feel better when he let ‘er rip. Good on Kayla for pushing.
Kayla bounced up, snagged a box of Cocoa Puffs instead of the cookies, and led the way, beckoning Ford to follow in her footsteps. Halfway there she twirled around to walk backward, already digging into the box and plucking out munch-sized mouthfuls. “You are such a girl. Inviting a lady up to your apartment for cookies and actually meaning cookies?”
“Cookies are delicious. I’ll have you know I’m good in the kitchen.”
“No way you make good cookies. Takes measurements and all that jazz. Nope. You’re just a girl.” Kayla grinned at him, a chocolate smile.
“Ugh.” Ford pretended disgust as part of the game, though he had a feeling his snickers were giving him away.
“Girl,” Kayla insisted. “Next time trying asking someone up to see your etchings.”
“What are etchings, anyway? I am not a girl.” Ford indicated the length and angular blockiness of his body. “Exhibit A.”
“So you’re a girl with an unfortunate body-hair problem and no boobs. Sucks to be you.”
“Not a girl!” Ford made a swipe for Kayla. She danced out of reach. “I am metrosexual.”
“Girl.”
“In touch with my feminine side!”
“That’s a hundred percent of you.”
Ford wasn’t the kind of guy who’d grab his crotch to prove her wrong. Not that the idea didn’t cross his mind, but -- Nah. He stopped in place instead and held out his arm at shoulder level. “Okay, so I’m a girl. Try and pull my arm down.”
Kayla glared. “I have brothers. I know how this game goes.”
“You brought it on yourself, she-devil.” Ford waggled his fingers. “If you can pull my arm down, I’ll tell you what’s going on up here.” He pointed his thumb headward. “Deal?”
“No tickling.” Kayla tossed her cereal box on the couch -- oh, now who was the messy one? -- and made a jump up for Ford’s arm.
He let her dangle and growl like a kitten long enough to make his point before he bounced her. “Who’s the girl now?”
Kayla kicked him smartly in the shins, not one but both.
“Ow!” Ford dropped her. “That’s against the rules.”
“Not only a girl, but a wuss too. I told you no tickling. You said nothing about no kicking.” Kayla plunked down on the couch, hmm’d in appreciation of its softness, and crossed her legs beneath her. “You big goof, I ask because I care.”
She reached for Ford, who let her pull him down this time. The shock wave caused a tsunami effect that nearly bounced her right off the couch again, but she hung on to Ford and spilled cereal in his lap while she was at it.
Ford steadied Kayla, admiring her pert little face and the adorable twinkle in her eye. “You know…” he said, straightening spikes of blonde hair that’d twisted askew.
“There is a look in your eyes I do not like. Put that thought away, big boy.” Kayla scrambled out of reach.
“Kayla, jeez. You’re pretty. I appreciate pretty, even if I don’t have a clue what to do with it.”
Kayla groaned. “You weren’t thinking about dumping Gavin for me?”
“God no! I just said no to the girlie bits before I hit high school.”
“Dick.” She pinched him. “Don’t scare me like that.”
“I’m that unappealing? You wound me.”
“No, you’re plenty appealing,” Kayla said with a nicely appreciative once-over to prove her point. “But you’re also totally gaga for Gavin. Cuckoo for his Cocoa Puffs.” She waved the cereal box and pointed out her T-shirt. “How d’you like those signs?”
Actually, Ford kind of did.
“Also, when I think about you and me, I mostly think about being crushed like a bug. Not so much a turn-on.” Kayla wrinkled her nose to let Ford know she was joking and nudged him with the toe of her shoe. “Talk to me. It’s weird when you don’t. I’m used to Ford Plus. Ford Lite kinda sucks.”
“I don’t know.” Ford crossed his arms behind his head and rested against them. “Where do I start?”
“In the middle and work your way out. Doofus.” Kayla sobered. “It’s Gavin, right? You dimmed like someone blew out a candle when I mentioned him. Drooped like a sad little moth.”
Ford stopped her before she could come up with any more alarming metaphors. “I honestly don’t know. I just --” He tapped his chest. “It feels heavy in here.”
“And that’s not a good sign.”
“Not usually, no, but I don’t think it’s a sign. It could be. I’m not sure.”
Kayla waited silently for Ford to go on.
How to say this without sounding like the most selfish dick on the planet? “I’m not sure of him.”
Kayla’s eyebrows shot up. “Mmm?” Her best attempt at keeping it zipped while zinging question marks at Ford.
Needing something to do with his hands, Ford started to unlace Kayla’s shoe. He could work a mean cat’s cradle. “What if I read the signs wrong?” Ford confessed at last, though he felt no better for finally letting it out. “Things are going so well. Great, even. So why can’t I get this doubt out of my head?”
“Oh… Ford,” Kayla sighed. “Don’t let yourself go there. It’d be like Harry Potter ending with You-Know-Who stomping Harry flat.”
“Never read the books, but I know what you mean. What I mean is… what if I’ve been wrong and Gavin’s been right from the beginning? If he won’t ever marry me, and Kayla, I think he honestly means it, then maybe I made a mistake when I read those signs. Maybe I should just leave him be before I break him.”
“Uh-huh. Here, hold still.”
“Why?”
Kayla wiggled free of Ford’s fiddling and punched him smartly in the ribs. Before he’d finished his yelp of protest, she’d sat up and caught him by his square chin. “Do not be an idiot.”
“That’s kind of harsh.”
“Tough love, big guy.” Kayla had surprising finger strength. Or maybe Ford just wanted to hear what she had to say enough to stay put. “Even if you did read the signs wrong -- and now that I’ve seen what you can do, I so doubt it -- then so what? Would it change how you feel about Gavin?”
Ford took the time to consider that, drawing on all his heritage to formulate the right answer. Lot of help that was. He got nothing but a great big “who knows?” from all quarters.
He had to answer from his own heart. “No,” he said at last. “I love Gavin. I do. But I still wish I felt sure of things. You know?”
“I do know.” Kayla patted his cheek. “You’re a big romantic and a giant softy, and since you’re deep in love you naturally want a wedding with flowers and a cake you can smoosh into your husband’s face, and a ring on your finger. Here’s the thing. Doubt is natural. Why do you think ‘getting cold feet’ is in the lexicon?”
Ford blinked. “Huh?”
“Besides. Gavin loves you too. Or at least he’d better. You, Mister, are a hell of a catch.”
“I think I’m in his heart too,” Ford said.
“There you go. Would it help if you looked for another sign?” Kayla hopped from tangent to tangent as easily as she would from foot to foot. “Something to back it up?”
Ford brightened. “Could be, yeah.”
“Do your thing, Svengali.”
“Svengali did not do what I do. Sh. Got
ta concentrate.” Ford opened himself to the possibilities and cast his unfocused gaze around the room. Ears pricked too in the near-total silence.
Which was why he and Kayla both yelped and nearly levitated out of their seats when the knock sounded at his door.
“Holy cats,” Kayla panted, pressing her hand to her chest. “Also, who the heck?”
“I don’t know.” Ford had had a lot of practice vaulting over this couch for one reason or another and put it to good use now, skidding in stocking feet to the door. “Besides, I asked for a sign, right?”
He opened the door. Gavin stood on his doormat, arms full and eyes only for Ford.
“You’re home,” Gavin said.
Ford gaped at him.
“Ask and ye shall receive, boy howdy,” Kayla said from the couch. “Remind me never to ask you to pray for rain. Jeez.”
Ford picked Gavin up bodily and kissed him. Poured all his heart and soul and hope into it. And Gavin, as if they were picking up where they’d left off when it was good, right before Ford had asked and Gavin had said no, Gavin tossed his armload onto the nearest handy surface and gave back as much as he got, wrapping his legs around Ford’s waist and digging his hands into Ford’s hair. The band popped off Ford’s ponytail and pinged off the facing wall.
Ford considered it a heck of a small price to pay.
He heard a familiar happy sigh somewhere behind him. “And I think that’s my cue,” Kayla said. She squeezed past them where they blocked the door.
Gavin squeaked. “Did she just pinch my ass, or was that you?”
Ford threw back his head and laughed, and wow, did that feel good.
“It’s a really pinchable ass,” Kayla said without a single trace of regret. Ford could just see her waving and giving him a thumbs-up over Gavin’s shoulder. He returned the favor and, when she’d shut the door, turned all his attention to Gavin, where it should be.
Or tried to. Gavin kissed him once more, all too quick but encouragingly affectionate, and let go of his monkey hold. “Manhandling me again,” he mumbled.
“You love it.”