by DJ Monroe
Colton didn’t think he had ever been in a more awkward situation. The man in the bedroom was without a doubt hurting beyond words and here he was, trying to pretend he was invisible while sending frantic texts using a stranger’s phone. Finally, when he received no response from Richard after another ten minutes, he sent another text.
“Never mind.”
There were a number of other friends Colton could call, but it was still storming and he hated interrupting dinners and dates and whatever else his friends might be enjoying with their partners and families this Friday night. Maybe Mr. Ashley would take pity on him and come sooner than he promised.
Carefully placing Lincoln’s phone on the counter next to the pizza, he let himself out of the apartment and stepped into the hall. He squinted against the brightness of the hall lights. After his eyes adjusted, he tried his apartment door again, just to make sure it really was locked. Sometimes it just got stuck. No, it was definitely locked.
Colton took a seat on the cold floor, pulled his knees up to his chin and settled in to wait.
Chapter Four
In the dark bedroom, Lincoln sat on the edge of the bed holding Jon’s letter, a note really, in one hand and the empty envelope in the other. He heard the front door open and close and thought the neighbor must be leaving. He’d already forgotten the guy’s name. Glad to finally be alone, he reached out and touched the stack of letters Jon had sent previously. Normally, he loved the feel of fine stationary against his fingertips and because they were from Jon, the letters had actually felt warm. They even smelled like him.
Until now.
Now, all he could think about was that he had missed some clue that had been in these letters as to what was really happening. He’d read the letters so many times that he almost had them memorized. He didn’t think there had been any indication. He tried to remember if Jon had mentioned anyone in particular, other than family, many times. Nothing came to him. Could Jon really have met someone new in a week, fallen in love, and decided not to come back to him?
Yes, he could. Jon was impulsive. It dawned on him that maybe Jon had planned this the whole time and was just stringing him along. Had he really been that much of a fool over this young man? He hoped not.
Lincoln rolled onto his side, pulled his thighs into his chest in a fetal position and rested his head on the pillow. Jon was really gone. For good. Not coming back. Ever. He would have to start over again. He let that realization sink in. His arms longed to hold Jon close one more time, hear Jon whisper his name in the dark just one more time. His heart ached to hear that laughter ringing out clear like a bell. The laugh, pure joy, that always made him laugh, too. Even if what they were laughing at wasn't even funny.
Lincoln felt like he hadn’t laughed in a long, long time.
Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed against the dark window. Lincoln closed his eyes, fighting back tears and failing miserably. The hot tears streamed down his face, tasting salty on his lips. He hated the fact that he was crying over Jon, the man he thought was the love of his life. A man he would have died for. He hated the fact that Jon had been right in calling him sentimental and old-fashioned. What Jon had never called him to his face was a fool. Lincoln supposed that was what he was thinking of him now.
A LITTLE AFTER MIDNIGHT Colton was awake, simply lying there on those soft cotton sheets, missing Grant. Every once in a while his thoughts strayed to Lincoln and the evening he’d had. He could only imagine how that letter had hurt and he wished there was something he could do to ease the pain for him. His cell phone chimed and he grabbed the phone quickly, thinking it might be Grant. Once or twice when he was out of town, they’d had phone sex. Maybe Grant was missing him, too.
It was Richard returning his call.
"Where were you?" Colton asked, more curious than anything else.
"Out," Richard said. "Did you get into your apartment?"
"I did.
“Was Mr. Ashley mad?” Richard asked, chuckling.
“Not really,” Colton said.
“Do you think he’s picking on you because you’re gay?” Richard asked.
Colton thought about that for a moment. “Nah. I’ve heard him talk to other tenants the same way.”
So how did you get stranded out of your apartment with no shoes, no shirt and no phone?” Richard asked.
“It’s a long, sad story,” Colton said, pulling the sheets and blankets up to his chin. Saturday and sometimes Sunday breakfasts had at one time been almost a ritual for Richard and Colton when Grant was out of town. Both of them had been busy lately and they’d let those friendly, lazy mornings fall by the wayside. Colton missed them and decided it was time to make up for lost time with his friend. “Why don’t you come over in the morning for breakfast and I’ll tell you about it.”
“Sounds good,” Richard said.
“Um, were you ‘out’ with someone tonight?” Colton asked.
“You mean as in the last guy you set me up with?” Richard asked.
“That’s what I meant.”
“No. Just some people from the office,” Richard said. “Henry and I aren’t getting along as well as I thought we would. I don’t think he wants to go out again.”
“And how do you feel about that?”
Richard took a deep breath. “It’s fine. I’m better off on my own anyway.”
“No one is better off on their own,” Colton told him. “Everyone needs someone special in their life.”
“I had that and it didn’t last, remember?” Richard said, his voice tight.
“Jeremy wasn’t right for you,” Colton said with finality. “You need someone strong.”
“Okay, well, Mr. Matchmaker, when you find that special someone for me, you let me know,” Richard said. “Until then, I’m playing the field.”
Colton laughed, knowing Richard didn’t mean a word of what he’d just said. They ended the call and Colton lay there thinking about how Richard needed the stability of a loving relationship just like he did. That led him to thinking about Grant and how thankful he was that he had the strong, stable relationship with this man. Yes, there were arguments and Grant was always on the road, but when they were together, it was magic.
He picked up the phone again and sent Grant a text. “I’m so thankful for your love.”
Colton awoke the next morning and while lying in bed watching the sun rise, a plan came to him fully formed. This plan would enable him to pay back Lincoln’s kindness from the night before and help Richard at the same time. He leaped out of bed, showered, and dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Then he headed for the kitchen to make breakfast.
By the time Colton had his first cup of coffee and the vegetables chopped, Richard knocked on his door.
“Omelets?” Colton asked, when Richard was settled at the bar with his coffee.
“Sounds good to me,” Richard said.
“You look particularly relaxed this morning,” Colton said.
“I slept well,” Richard told him. “And maybe the hot number I picked up at Paddy’s last night helped as well.”
Paddy’s was a gay bar right down the street that Richard frequented to pick up dates.
Colton gave him a disapproving look. “You know how dangerous that is.”
Richard shrugged. “I can handle myself. Besides, he was gone by the time I called you. Just a quickie.”
“I would think you’d be tired of that by now,” Colton said, scooping sautéed vegetables out of the skillet and turning to the eggs.
“Better than getting my heart broken,” Richard said, walking away from Colton to stand in front of the sliding glass door in the living room.
Colton didn’t reply but just glanced over his shoulder at his handsome, dark-haired friend. He had the feeling Richard wasn’t telling him something, but he knew from experience that prying and pushing wouldn’t help. He began breaking eggs into a bowl, added a splash of milk and reached for his whisk.
“Man, that storm last night was rough,” Richa
rd said, after a while.
Yes, the conversation about what Richard had been doing the night before was over.
“It feels like the storm washed everything clean,” Colton said. “Look at that gorgeous sky.”
“Can we eat outside?” Richard asked, opening the sliding glass door that led out onto a small, covered balcony.
“Sure,” Colton said, grabbing toast out of the toaster and slathering it with butter. He added cheese to the omelets, folded them neatly and within minutes was able to deftly slide them out of the skillet and onto a plate. He added bacon and two slices of toast to each plate and slid one across the counter to Richard.
“Juice?” he asked, turning toward the refrigerator.
“Sure,” Richard said. “And more coffee.”
Once they had everything they needed, the two men moved out onto the balcony, the morning sunshine warming up the small space quickly.
“You’re going to make someone a great wife someday,” Richard said.
“Grant’s wife, I hope,” Colton said, shivering a little at the thought of he and Grant finally tying the knot.
Richard changed the subject abruptly. “So, what happened last night?” he asked.
“Oh, I have never been so embarrassed in my life,” Colton confessed. “I opened a neighbor’s mail by mistake and read the letter.”
“Letter? Who writes letters?”
Colton rolled his eyes. “Well, evidently, the guy across the hall and his, um, now ex.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Yeah. The letter was what they used to call Dear John letters. The guy basically said he’d found someone else and wasn’t coming back.”
“Yikes,” Richard said.
“I had to go across the hall and confess that I’d opened his mail by mistake. He’s a big guy and kind of quiet. I was just terrified, and I can’t even remember if I told him whether I’d read it or not. I guess he would never have known either way.”
“True.”
“His name is Lincoln. Anyway, I gave him the letter, apologized again and then left only to find out that I’d locked myself out of my apartment. So, I had to go back across the hall and ask to use his phone. I knew by that time that he’d already read the letter. It was obvious, he was just devastated. He could barely interact with me.”
“If that’s him, he doesn’t look too devasted now,” Richard said, motioning to the makeshift basketball court close by.
Colton stood up, leaned over the railing and looked. The man in question was indeed the man across the hall and he was playing basketball with a bunch of boys from the neighborhood. He had taken off his shirt and his well-developed upper body gleamed with sweat. Every time he made a shot, the muscles in his back and arms rippled, holding Colton’s attention for longer than it should have.
“That’s him,” Colton said, returning to his seat. He avoided the questioning look on Richard’s face and concentrated on his food.
“Hmm, not bad,” Richard said, cocking one eyebrow.
“I’m glad you think so,” Colton said. “Because I have a plan.”
Chapter Five
Lincoln wasn’t sure what woke him up. He’d either dreamed it...or someone really had knocked on his door. He sat up in bed and blinked at the sunlight streaming through his bedroom window. He’d slept fitfully and realized he’d clutched Jon’s last letter in his hand all night. Folding it carefully, he slid the sheet of paper into the envelope and added it to the stack resting on his nightstand. A little stab of pain shot through his heart and he was tempted to lie back down, cover up his head and just stay in bed all day.
But there it was, for real this time. A knock at the door.
He padded through the apartment and heard voices out in the hall before he opened the door. Despite the hole in his heart, he was going to have to face today and in the coming days. He forced a smile onto his face and opened the door. There in the hall stood a rag tag group of about six boys that he played basketball with on Saturday mornings. Some were very young, maybe no more than eight or nine and one or two were older, in their teens and nearly as tall as Lincoln.
“Can you come out and play with us, Mr. Lincoln?” one of the older boys named Jackson asked.
“Well, let me ask my mom,” Lincoln joked.
This Saturday morning ritual had started almost the first weekend he’d lived in this apartment building. He’d been out for an early morning run, saw the boys playing and, though they were pretty good, he could see where they needed some pointers. They took to his instruction easily that day and the next Saturday as well and after that, it simply became a ritual. Lincoln had no idea where the boys lived, probably close by, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t in his building.
“Oh, come on, Mr. Lincoln. You ain’t got no mama in there.” This time it was a younger boy. Joey was his name and he might have been Jackson’s brother by the looks of it.
All the boys laughed and Lincoln continued teasing them, assuring the little crowd that his mama was indeed inside the apartment and he would have to ask her permission.
“Well, ask her quick and come on out and play with us,” Jackson said.
He dribbled the basketball on the tiled floor, expertly working it back and forth and between his legs. One of the other boys, tall and gangly and badly in need of a haircut, took it away from him. They scuffled for a few moments until Lincoln realized they might be getting too noisy for his neighbors.
“You guys run on down and get warmed up like I showed you,” Lincoln told them. “I’ll be down in a few.”
“Thanks, Mr. Lincoln,” Joey said, and the group headed for the stairwell.
As Lincoln closed his door, he could hear their feet pounding down the stairs.
“Exercise will do me good,” Lincoln muttered to himself as he changed into shorts, a t-shirt and his running shoes. “Then maybe I’ll decide what to do with the rest of my life.”
Within minutes, leaving his cell phone behind and grabbing his apartment keys, he was heading down the steps after the boys.
“WHAT KIND OF PLAN?” Richard asked, a fork full of eggs and cheese halfway to his mouth.
“Just a little dinner party kind of plan,” Colton said, giving Richard a wink.
“As in a dinner party where you invite this guy and me to dinner. What’s his name?” Richard asked, glancing at the man playing with the boys in the space below.
“Lincoln,” Colton answered. “And, yes that kind of dinner party.”
“You never give up, do you?” Richard said after a few minutes.
“Richard, I’m worried about you picking up strangers in bars. And I know for a factthat Lincoln has just had his heart broken. You can help him heal.”
“Maybe he wants to heal on his own,” Richard suggested.
“Maybe he’d like to have someone to help him heal, someone to talk to,” Colton said. “Like you need someone to help you get over Jeremy.”
“Why are you always trying to fix people?” Richard said, pushing his plate away, draining the last of his juice and reaching for his nearly empty coffee cup.
“I just want everyone to be as happy as Grant and I are,” Colton told his friend. “Especially my friends.”
“You want more coffee?” Richard asked, standing.
Colton noted that Richard’s gaze strayed over to where Lincoln was still playing basketball with the boys. He couldn’t blame him, the man was gorgeous.
“Sure,” Colton said, handing Richard his cup.
“Have you spoken to this neighbor about dinner?” Richard asked when he returned with full coffee cups.
“Not yet, but I will today,” Colton said. “You do think he’s attractive, don’t you?”
Richard shrugged. “I’m not so sure this is a good idea.”
“Why?”
“Remember that one disaster...”
“Do you have to bring that up every time?” Colton asked wearily. The one time that he set Richard up with another friend on a blind date tha
t turned out to be a total bust and Richard just couldn’t let it go. “That was a terrible mistake. I can read people better now.”
Richard looked at him over the top of his coffee cup. “He called his mom fifteen times during our date. He was practically wearing a tuxedo even though I told him we were going to a picnic.”
“It’s not as bad as all that,” Colton argued. “I’ll bet you were the only one who noticed.”
“And he brought his cat!” Richard reminded him.
“Okay, well, that was weird,” Colton said, giving Richard a little smile. That would bring the dimple in his chin out to play and he knew Richard couldn’t resist. “Say you’ll come.”
“Have you talked to Grant about this?” Richard asked.
“I will today.”
“How do you think he’s going to react?” Richard asked.
Colton shrugged. “He won’t like it. He’s such a skeptic. But he’s not here, is he?”
Richard didn’t seem to have an answer for that.
“I’ll plan the dinner party for tomorrow night. We all have work on Monday so that gives you and him an excuse to make it an early evening if things don’t go well,” Colton said, glancing over the railing at the basketball court. Lincoln was sitting now, talking to the boys. They seemed to be entranced with whatever he was telling them. “I have a good feeling about this.”
“It’s against my better judgement but I’ll come,” Richard agreed. “I’m only doing this because you and I are friends.”
“Great,” Colton said, gathering their dishes.
Richard started to help but Colton held out his hand to stop him. His friend sank back into his chair.
“You stay here and enjoy the view.” He motioned toward Lincoln and the boys.
As if on cue, Lincoln stood and began working with the smaller boys while the older ones watched. His abs and those biceps looked like they were carved from stone. And Colton couldn’t help but notice how his shorts clung to his narrow waist.
“If it wasn’t for Grant, I’d be interested in that myself,” Colton told him. “I’ll be back in a minute.”