Grand Adventures

by Dawn Kimberly Johnson

  Paul went back to his book, but not before he saw the worry on Sam’s face and the exhaustion on Liam’s. He’d been so involved in his lover that he’d been ignoring his family. It was about time he thought about something other than cybersex and focused on his family. Later.

  He sank back into the story for a while longer, happily slurping the tea and dunking the biscuits Sam shoved under his nose. Chocolate HobNobs—his favorite.

  It was Sam switching on the table lamp that made Paul realize he was squinting to see the text. He’d been totally engrossed in the story and hadn’t noticed the fading light.

  He couldn’t fail to notice the smug expression on Sam’s face. “What?” Paul asked sourly.

  “Like the book?” Sam asked.

  “It’s all right.”

  “Just all right? You’ve been reading for four hours.”

  Paul looked at the clock on his phone. It was gone seven in the evening. Jeez. He hadn’t noticed. “Sorry, guys. I’d better go.”

  “Stay for dinner. Liam ordered Chinese for three. Do you want a beer?”

  “Just one. I brought the car.”

  Fortunately he was on a late shift the next day, so he could have a drink. That was why Olaf, Skype, and the dildo had been possible. It didn’t matter if he was up half the night.

  “You can have the couch if you want more than one,” Liam said.

  Paul shook his head. “Thanks, but I’d better get home. I’ve got shit to do.”

  “You mean you want to have a pity party about your lost date.”

  “Something like that,” Paul agreed. He waved the Kindle. “Okay, I’ll admit. This is better than I expected.”

  “Damn with faint praise, why don’t you? That book is the start of a good series. You can borrow the Kindle and read the others.” Sam made it sound as if he was conferring a great honor.

  Paul was torn between holding up his position as chief brat of the family and grabbing the Kindle. He settled on “I might read ’em.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  The doorbell rang, not as loud or as long as when Paul leant on the bell.

  Liam went to pick up his wallet, but Paul waved him back. “I’ll get this.” He knew neither of them had the money for a takeaway. Pride and embarrassment warred on his brother’s face, but he stayed in his seat.

  Paul paid for the food and dumped the bag on the coffee table, ignoring Sam and Liam’s kisses. “You better have ordered crispy duck.”

  “Of course I’ve ordered duck. Do you think I wanted to listen to you moan incessantly?” Sam handed Paul a beer. “And the chicken is Liam’s, so hands off. You can share the crispy beef.”

  “You can share the chicken too,” Liam said, knocking Sam’s elbow. “Leave your brother alone.”

  Sam’s bad mood was uncharacteristic, and Paul remembered Liam’s warning that Sam had suffered a bad day. He waited until everyone had shared out the food—including Liam’s chicken—and beer before he broached the subject.

  “What’s the matter, big brother? You’re as grumpy as Colin on a bad day.”

  Sam’s lips twitched at the reference to their older brother. Eventually he said, “I’ve lost another client.”

  Sam was an accountant. He’d run his own business since he got his accountancy qualification. Since Liam’s accident, he’d been distracted, resulting in some unhappy clients.

  “Damn. I’m sorry, Sam.”

  “Me too. They’d been with me since I started.”

  “Is there no chance of getting them back?”

  Sam shook his head. “I cost them money.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ve been offered another client.”

  “Well, that’s good news, isn’t it?”

  “This is still working for myself. I’m just not happy about the client.”

  Paul paused as he dished out more food. “What’s the problem? Liam is working for Wig and Nibs. You need more clients.”

  Sam bit his lip. “I need the work, but it would be like consorting with the enemy. They’re… not good people.”

  Paul almost laughed at his brother, but he caught the pleading look in Liam’s eyes. “Are they crooks?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Look at it this way, big brother. You keep your friends close and your enemies closer. You’ve got an inside look into their business, and if they cause any trouble for anyone else, you can talk to me.”

  Sam nodded. “I thought of that, and God knows, we need the money.”

  “Well, then, it’s a no-brainer. Don’t worry. I’ll look after you here, and I’ve got Biggsy keeping an eye on our boys and you down there. Anybody puts a foot out of line with them, the police will deal with it. As long you don’t get behind the wheel of a car, you’re golden.”

  He grinned at Sam’s harrumph. Sam’s atrocious driving was legendary in the family. Nobody let Sam drive anywhere if they wanted to arrive intact.

  “It’s a pity Sergeant Biggs and the police didn’t give a shit about Wig and Nibs from the start of the problems,” Liam said.

  “I know,” Paul said. “But Biggsy knows if anything happens to any of you, I’ll have him strung up by his tackle and flown on the ferry.”

  Liam grinned. “You’re really scary sometimes.”

  “I’m really scary all the time,” Paul said. He may have been exaggerating, but nobody fucked with his family or their friends. The Owenses had a long reach. “Eat before the food gets cold.”

  “Yes, sir.” Sam saluted and scooped up a mouthful of rice.

  Seeing Liam visibly relax and start eating, Paul hid a grin. The couple were so predictable in their worry for each other.

  II.

  BY TEN o’clock, Liam’s yawns had infected all of them, and Paul knew it was time to leave.

  “Sure I can borrow your Kindle?”

  Sam fixed him with a stern look. “Break it and die.”

  “As if I would.”

  “You would,” Sam said flatly. “Remember the bike you trashed, the Walkman you dropkicked to see if it would still work, my favorite CD you scratched because you wanted to test if it would play no matter what happened to it—and it didn’t.”

  Paul opened his mouth and shut it again. All of it was true, and those were only the things Sam knew about. “I’ll be careful.”

  Liam yawned again. Paul took the hint.

  He drove home with the remains of the Chinese and a couple of beers. Sam and Liam were odd people who didn’t eat old takeaway for breakfast.

  By the time he got home, he was tired enough to want to go to bed and finish reading the book. The thought of gay romance books still made him snort, but he had to admit it was a good story with plenty of action and dick, even if it was written by a woman. He’d once made the mistake of laughing at women writing gay porn—romance—to Sam’s face. He’d never make that mistake again.

  Once he was settled under the covers and because he was a curious bastard, Paul took a look at the other books on the Kindle. Jeez, no wonder they didn’t have any money. If the number of books on the Kindle was anything to go by, Sam had a serious reading addiction.

  Three hours later, Paul had finished the first book and was halfway through the second. It was past two in the morning. Perhaps it was time he went to sleep. He put the Kindle reluctantly to one side and switched off the light. Then he switched it back on again as he remembered he’d forgotten to set his alarm.

  The only trouble with being around Liam and Sam was being aware of what he was missing without Olaf by his side. It wasn’t that he needed his boyfriend 24-7, but he needed him more than once every few months and a few hastily arranged and easily postponed Skype sessions. Perhaps he needed to find a boyfriend—or girlfriend—closer to home.

  Olaf had dumped him once. They’d resolved the situation, but maybe Olaf had been right. He wasn’t cut out for long-distance relationships, and he needed someone who was out of the closet and happy to be seen with him. It w
as time Paul took the initiative and broke things off. Then he could get laid without feeling guilty.

  His phone beeped.

  Paul didn’t need to look at the screen to know who it was. Even the beep sounded excited.

  I’m sorry.

  Paul sighed. He could ignore the text, or he could reply. Maybe this was the world’s way of telling him to man up. Dumping by text was horrible, though. He’d call him if it was convenient. God, his heart was going to break, and not like in the girly romantic shite Sam read.

  Me too, he typed.

  Are you busy?

  Sleeping

  Obviously

  Olaf could do sarcasm, even with one word.

  Reading one of Sam’s books

  WTH?????

  I was bored

  Sorry again. Was it any good?

  Not bad. Explosions and shit.

  Shit was exploding?

  No shit. Lots of explosions.

  Ah

  What do you want?

  You

  Paul stared at the screen. He did not want to see that when he was about to dump the man. He’d never worried about dumping anyone—guy or girl—before. They’d all been hookups, one-night stands with no emotion, at least on his part.

  Aren’t you at work?

  Finished early. Is it too late to play?

  “Just a bit, love,” Paul murmured. He thought about what he should respond with. He must have taken too long, because Olaf texted again.

  Fallen asleep? Never mind. Always tomorrow. I love you.

  “I love you too, Olaf, you bastard. Why are you doing this to me?” Paul called him before he changed his mind, needing to get this over and done with.

  “I thought you’d fallen asleep on me.” Olaf sounded tired enough to be the one sleeping.

  “I was just thinking what to say.”

  “That doesn’t sound ominous, does it?”

  Now Olaf sounded wary, the soft sleepiness pushed away, and Paul rolled his eyes. Fuck it, he need to man up and get it over with.

  “I’ve been thinking….”

  “Careful.” When Paul didn’t respond, Olaf said, “I’m not going to like your train of thought, am I?”

  “No.”

  Olaf sighed. “Just say it, Paul.”

  “I think that maybe… you and I… we’re not going to work.”

  “Why not?”

  “Our schedules never meet. We’re not going to be together for years. It’s so damn frustrating.”

  “You want to get laid,” Olaf said flatly.

  Paul hesitated. Too long.

  “You want us to break up because you need to stick your dick somewhere? I’m surprised you’ve lasted this long without screwing. Or have you been fucking everyone and now you’re feeling guilty?”

  Paul was hurt and angry at the accusation, because he hadn’t even been tempted since he’d met Olaf, even before they’d gotten back in contact after Paul’s return to London. “I haven’t been with anyone else since I met you.”

  “But now you’ve had enough of being faithful? Bye-bye, Olaf, and thanks for all the fish.”

  “What? Fish? What the fuck are you talking about?” Paul hadn’t a clue what the man was babbling about. “Is this some weird Scandinavian thing you say when you dump someone?”

  “Uh… Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy… Douglas Adams…. ‘So long and thanks for all the fish.’”

  “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  Olaf snorted. “Did you read anything growing up?”

  “Not if I could help it.” Paul rubbed at his eyes. He was tired, and dumping his boyfriend at dark thirty was a really stupid idea. He really should have ignored the phone.

  “Paul—”

  “I love you.” Because Olaf needed to know Paul still did. He just wanted someone to come home to.

  “But you want to dump me. You know, you’re really not making sense.”

  “It’s the middle of the night. What do you expect?”

  “Do you want to call me tomorrow evening?”

  “I’m on a late.”

  “Paul, you love me, but you want out because you need sex.”

  “It’s not the sex!” Paul yelled down the phone. Somehow they’d gotten derailed by fish and sex.

  “What is it, then? I haven’t got a fucking clue what you’re trying to say.”

  “I’m lonely, okay? I’m fucking lonely and you’re not here, and I go to Sam and Liam’s and they’re all curled together and I want to be wrapped around you, and I want to be like I was before when I didn’t give a shit, and—” He stopped, because he desperately needed a breath before he either passed out or made a total prat of himself. Maybe it was too late for that.

  “Get your laptop.”

  Paul frowned. That wasn’t the response he’d been expecting. “It’s too late and I’m tired.”

  “Get your laptop now. I need to see you. If this is it, I need to say good-bye face-to-face.”

  Paul huffed and sighed as he reached over to the bedside table to get his laptop. He’d placed it there earlier that day in anticipation of fun.

  “I’m waiting,” Olaf said.

  It took time to get onto Skype. Paul’s laptop was ancient and had to be coaxed to warm up. Paul took the opportunity to go for a piss, splash water on his face, and brush his hair.

  By the time he got back, Olaf’s face was on-screen.

  “You look tired,” Paul said.

  “It’s been a long day, and this isn’t helping,” Olaf growled. “One missed date and you’re ready to end what we have?”

  “What do we have?”

  Olaf reached out as if he was trying to touch Paul, then drew back his hand. “Each other. We have each other. This isn’t easy for me either, Paul. I want to talk about you and put your picture on my desk. Tell my coworkers about my new family back in England who love me more than my own does. Instead I have to keep quiet and pretend that I’m all alone and looking for a girl.”

  “You could put the picture of Liam and Sam’s wedding on your desk, with you and me together. No one needs to know we’re holding hands out of sight.”

  “There’s not much point if we’re not together, is there?”

  “I… guess not.” Paul drew his knees up to his chest.

  Olaf sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Is that it? You are I are over for good?”

  “Yes. No. Fuck it, life was so easy before I met you.” Paul knew he sounded like a five-year-old.

  “Yeah, yeah, you fucked your way through London. I get it. So you get one case of blue balls and you’re ready to throw it all away.”

  “You wanted to do the same thing.”

  “For a very good reason. I fuck up my whole life if I come out. I was scared, not frustrated.”

  “It’s not the sex.” Dammit, why couldn’t Olaf hear what he was trying to say?

  “Are we really debating who’s got the best reason to split up with whom?”

  Paul chuckled wryly. “It does sound pathetic, doesn’t it?”

  Olaf smiled, but Paul could see it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m lonely, Paul. My bed is so lonely without you.”

  “Mine too, babe. Mine too.” Paul touched the screen, and Olaf sent him a kiss. Paul touched his fingers to his lips. It was their touch, something no one knew anything about.

  “But I still want to stay with you. The question is, do you want to stay with me?”

  “Yes.”

  Olaf let out an explosive breath. “Well, then. Next time you have a crisis, talk to me before you panic and do something really stupid. You just took ten years off my life.”

  “I didn’t mean to—” Paul leaned against the headboard. He hadn’t a clue what he did mean.

  “I know you didn’t, babe. I know.”

  “What’s the time?”

  Paul didn’t bother to look at the clock. “Time I should be asleep.”

  “Settle down and we’ll talk together unti
l we’re ready to sleep.”

  Paul snuggled down against the pillows and turned the netbook so he could see Olaf. “I think I’m going to be asleep in minutes.” He yawned loudly. “God, sorry.”

  “No worries, hon. I’m exhausted too. I was awake at five this morning.”

  Paul stared at Olaf, taking in the Slavic features and buzz-cut hair. “Sorry I screwed up this evening.”

  “I’m sorry too. I should have said no to working late.”

  “Perhaps we need to make more time together. Regular dates rather than when we can, and not just for sex.”

  Olaf nodded. “Tomorrow we’ll coordinate some times. And it’s only six weeks before you fly over here.”

  Paul yawned again, his eyelids fluttering closed. “Where are you going to hide me?”

  “In my bedroom. I’m not letting you out the whole time you’re here. We’ve got a black dildo to break in, remember?”

  “You’ll have used it long before then,” Paul said.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah.” Paul was almost asleep, but he had to have the last word. “You, coming, just from the dildo.”

  “In your dreams, lover.”

  “Always. You’re always in my dreams.”

  An Atheist and a Yoga Instructor Walk into a Bar

  ROWAN MCALLISTER

  “I have always been delighted at the prospect of a new day, a fresh try, one more start, with perhaps a bit of magic waiting somewhere behind the morning.”—J.B. Priestly

  It hurts to witness a bright soul and sparkly new love get kicked in the teeth by life. But it renews my faith in the human spirit to be given the privilege of witnessing what can come after.

  I believe in love. All I have to do is open my eyes to see it, open my mind to recognize it in all its many and varied incarnations, and it is there.

  I believe in magic and because I believe it, it is real.

  To Eric and TJ, may you never lack for magic. Your fresh start and new day are only a morning away.

  AN ATHEIST and a yoga instructor walk into a bar….

  It wasn’t a joke.

  Or at least I didn’t know the punch line for it if it was. But that was what popped into my head as I followed the gorgeous ass of the guy in the health club T-shirt with a yoga mat slung over his shoulder through the doors. His tight cargo shorts framed his ass so lovingly I had to work hard to look away. But yoga-mat guy was not who I was there to meet, and the man I was supposed to meet probably wouldn’t appreciate watching me ogle another man’s ass. That might not give the best first impression.