by DJ Monroe
That hadn’t happened in a while, but it used to be a regular occurrence when they were first together. More than once, he’d thrown out burned food and they’d had to order in. Neither of them cared and sometimes, back in bed, they didn’t even eat what they’d ordered. Colton hoped Grant had missed him and would want him as badly tonight. With a grin and these thoughts in mind, Colton decided he’d just greet Grant wearing nothing but a fluffy bathrobe and let things proceed from there.
When he heard Grant’s key in the lock, he fought the urge to run to the door and fling himself into the man’s arms. He stood in the kitchen with a glass of wine in each hand, trembling with excitement.
His breath caught in his throat as he listened to Grant come inside, place his luggage on the floor and then close the door. “Honey, I’m home,” Grant called out.
Colton smiled when Grant remembered the long running joke between them. He had waited as long as he could. Giggling with happiness, he came out of the kitchen carrying the wine, offering one to Grant.
“Welcome home, lover,” he said in what he hoped was his sexiest voice.
Grant smiled, kissed him on the cheek and took the glass of wine Colton offered.
“It’s gonna be a hot night,” Colton said
Grant gave Colton a quizzical look and Colton opened his bathrobe, showing Grant just how ready he was for him.
The two touched glasses and Colton kissed Grant, fighting the urge to toss aside the robe, drag him into the bedroom and tear off the other man’s clothes. Instead, he simply ran his fingertips across the front of Grant’s slacks.
“Easy, cowboy,” Grant said, stepping out of his grasp.
Colton frowned at that reaction, but the longer they waited the better this was going to be.
“I’m starving and it smells like you’ve got something cooking in the kitchen as well.”
Colton laughed. God, it was good to have him home.
The two chatted about work and the hassle of traveling by air while Colton finished up dinner and set the table. While they ate, they talked a little about mundane things and more about Grant’s travels, even though Colton was dying to tell him about his dinner party that hadn’t worked out well.
While Colton cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher, Grant moved to the sofa, kicked off his shoes and stretched his long legs out in front of him.
“Well, let me tell you about my adventures,” Colton finally said, sitting on the other end of the sofa and placing Grant’s feet in his lap.
“Okay.”
“Last Friday night was when it all began,” Colton began, gently massaging Grant’s feet through his socks.
First, he told Grant about opening the mail by mistaken and how embarrassed he was to have to tell Lincoln what he had done. Then he told him about being stuck in Lincoln’s apartment afterward with no shoes, no cell and no keys to get back into the apartment.
“I never did get hold of Richard, by the way.” he added. “And it took Mr. Ashley almost an hour to come up and unlock the door while I sat in the hall and waited.”
“You already told me all of this once,” Grant finally said.
“I know. And I know you weren’t happy with me, but it gets even funnier,” Colton assured him.
Grant put both hands behind his head and nodded for Colton to continue.
From the firm set of Grant’s mouth, Colton knew he should just change the subject. Instead, Colton told him about Lincoln and the dinner party where Richard was a no show and how long it took Richard to call him back. “I just know he and Richard are going to hit it off,” Colton told him. “If I ever get them together.”
“How do you know that either man wants to meet someone new?” Grant asked quietly. His eyes had drifted shut while Colton talked but now they were open again.
“Lincoln just lost his partner,” Colton said. “It would do him good to meet someone new right away. Remind him that there are other fish in the sea. And Richard needs to meet someone with some stability for his own safety.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Grant, the people who hang out a Paddy’s aren’t the best crowd, and he’s forever dragging some stranger into his home. Sometimes they spend the night but sometimes they don’t. It’s dangerous behavior,” Colton said. “He’s probably drinking too much, too.”
“He’s a grown man, Colton. You’re not his mommy,” Grant reminded him. “He knows how to take care of himself.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Colton said. “It would be nice to see him in a nice, stable relationship with someone like Lincoln.”
Grant sat up suddenly, pulling his feet from Colton’s grasp. “Colton, you have a really bad habit of meddling in other people’s affairs and it’s going to get you into trouble.”
Colton was surprised that Grant’s demeanor changed so quickly. He could see little hints of what could only be described as anger in his blue eyes.
“I’m not meddling,” he protested.
“Yes, you are and it’s going to cause trouble. You’re always trying to fix people.”
Colton was stunned into silence as Grant stood up and began pacing the room.
“Some people need my help,” Colton finally said quietly. “Richard.”
“No, they don’t. And if you’d ask Richard, he would probably tell you the same thing!” Grant snapped, pouring more wine into his glass. He took a gulp. “You can’t just leave well-enough alone, can you?”
“Grant, there’s no need to be so upset with me,” Colton said, standing to face Grant. “Maybe I just need something to keep me busy because you’re never here.” The evening that had started off as so romantic was starting to turn ugly very, very quickly and he didn’t understand why.
Grant appeared to ignore that last statement. “I do have a right to be angry.” He was almost shouting now. “I’ve told you time and again to leave it alone and stop meddling but you just won’t listen. You’re like some old lady busybody or something and I’m tired of your goofy antics.”
“What goofy antics?” Colton demanded, anger flaring in his chest.
“Always losing the keys or locking yourself out.” Grant held up one finger. “Reading other people’s mail without checking first.” He held up another finger. “Screwing around with other people’s lives and always thinking you know what’s best.”
Colton was too shocked to say anything. In the beginning Grant had teased him about what he called Colton’s quirks. Now it appeared he no longer found these quirks endearing or cute or anything else. Was this recent or something new? Colton had no idea, but he’d never seen Grant like this before.
“I’m sick of it and I’m sick of you,” Grant finally said. He placed his empty glass on the coffee table and reached for his shoes.
“Grant, please,” Colton found himself begging. “Where are you going? Please, stay. Let’s talk about this.”
“I’ve talked and talked until I’m blue in the face,” Grant snarled. “It’s time for action.”
“Yeah, you’re such a man of action. What are you going to do? Hit me?” Colton shot back, more hurt than angry, but he wasn’t going to let Grant get away with treating him like this.
“No way, because then you’d go crying to your new ‘friend’ across the hall and I’d have that to contend with.” Grant used air quotes around the word friend. “Just how close are you to this new ‘friend’ anyway?”
“Are you accusing me...”
“If the shoe fits,” Grant shouted, cutting him off.
“Grant.” Colton hated the pleading sound in his voice but this was spiraling way out of control.
“Go ahead. See if I care. You’d be lucky to find someone else to put up with your dumb dinner parties. Playing house. Playing with other people’s lives. Playing matchmaker. I’m doing what I should have done months ago.” Grant crossed the room, picked up his luggage and briefcase that were still right by the door.
“Grant.”
�
��I’m done. It’s over,” he shouted and jerked the door open.
With one last hateful look, Grant stepped out into the hall and slammed the door shut behind him.
Colton stood there in the middle of the room, shaking with anger. How could this have escalated so quickly? Grant had never accused him of anything underhanded before, especially cheating. He knew Grant was sometimes aggravated with his foibles but before tonight, he was always able to turn them around and make Grant laugh.
Looking out of the window to the street below, he watched Grant throw his things into the back of his car and drive away. He paced around, trying to calm down and then went into the bedroom. Suddenly, feeling stupid for strutting around in the robe, he tossed it aside and pulled on shorts and a t-shirt.
After another glass of wine his anger was turning into hurt. He called Richard to vent a little and tell him what had happened between him and Grant. No answer. He left a message and continued to pace. Throughout the evening he continued to call Richard with no luck and even dialed Grant’s number once. When his voice mail kicked in, he hung up quickly.
It was late when Richard finally called him back. “Calm down,” Richard said, although that didn’t help Colton calm down. Instead, it amped up his anger again.
“He called me goofy. Called me a meddler and busy body,” Colton all but shouted into the phone. “Walked out on me.”
Richard kept quiet and that sent Colton off again.
At last Richard said. “He was probably just tired from all the traveling. Why don’t you get a good night’s sleep and maybe you two can talk tomorrow?”
“I never want to talk to him again,” Colton snapped.
“You don’t mean that,” Richard said.
Colton stopped abruptly. Of course Richard was right. He and Grant had just been apart too much lately and the evening had simply gotten off on the wrong foot. They needed to talk about this space growing between them.
DINNER WITH LINCOLN’S parents was comfortable and easy just like always. He brought flowers to his mother, who squealed when she saw them, like she’d never gotten flowers before at all. He gave his dad a bottle of his favorite scotch and the old man shared a drink with him. They chatted easily about work and the weather and other family members.
Of course, they knew Jon had gone back to Iowa for a while but no one brought that up or even asked about the situation. For that Lincoln was grateful. He was sure that if he’d brought the subject up, they would have listened, but he had to sort it out himself for now.
As he drove home, Lincoln decided he was glad that he’d visited them, felt lighter and happier than he had in days. His thoughts strayed to Colton and he decided he was going to invite him out to a friendly dinner sometime soon and bring up his apartment decorating idea. Up ahead he spotted a blinking neon sign for Paddy’s Bar and Grill. He’d heard about the place. Heard that if you were looking for some company, that was the place to go. He wasn’t really looking for company. It was still a little too soon for that, but on impulse he pulled into the lot, parked and got out.
Inside, Paddy’s was dimly lit, nothing more than a dive, really, with pool tables on one side of the room, the bar in the center and a dance floor on the other end. As Lincoln entered the place and headed for the bar, he got several hungry looks and even a bold wink from a young guy sitting with a group of men at a table.
Some night soon he might be interested in taking this hot young man or someone else up on their offer, but not this night. On the other hand, the scenery here was as good as he’d ecpected and he began to wonder why he should wait. Jon was gone and it was pretty obvious he wasn’t coming back. It had been a while since he and Jon had been intimate except for that very last time, right before he left, which had been fast and furious, almost angry sex.
He ordered a beer and watched in the big mirror as the young man who’d noticed him when he first came in, sauntered in Lincoln’s direction.
“Is this seat taken?” he whispered in Lincoln’s ear, so close that Lincoln felt his hot breath on his neck.
“Not at all,” Lincoln said, sipping his beer. He was surprised at his body’s quick reaction but kept his gaze on the mirror.
“My name’s Ronnie,” the young man said.
“Nice to meet you,” Lincoln said, finally looking at the young man. He didn’t give out his own name.
“You new in the area? I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before,” the man said. Then he paused and gave Lincoln the once over. “And I would definitely remember seeing you.”
“Not new to the area, just haven’t been here before,” Lincoln said.
“A quarrel with your lover, perhaps,” Ronnie said, scooting closer.
“No quarrel. No lover,” Lincoln answered.
“Now, that’s a shame,” Ronnie said. “You know, I can help change that situation, at least for tonight,” he continued. Now their thighs were touching.
“I’m sure you can,” Lincoln said, draining his glass. “But maybe some other night.”
“I might not be here some other night,” Ronnie said, a stray hand sliding onto Lincoln’s thigh.
Lincoln’s body continued to respond to Ronnie’s touch and again he was surprised. But he wasn’t ready for this. Not quite yet. “I’m sure we’ll see each other around,” Lincoln said. He tossed money on the counter, stood and headed for the door.
He drove straight to his apartment building, already regretting leaving Ronnie behind. He promised himself that the next time, he would take him or one of the many like him he’d seen in the bar, up on their offer. A little fun in the sack with a stranger, with no strings attached, might be just what he needed.
Now, why did Colton suddenly come to mind at that thought? His neighbor was handsome in a boyish kind of way with a quick smile that Lincoln found himself drawn to. Shaking his head, he thought, no way. Colton was in a relationship and completely off limits.
Lincoln climbed the stairs but as he neared his apartment door, he heard raised voices coming from the apartment across the hall.
“Go ahead. You’d be lucky to find someone else to put up with your dumb dinner parties. Playing house. Playing with other people’s lives. Playing matchmaker.” A man’s voice raised in anger.
“Grant.” That sounded like Colton.
“I’m doing what I should have done months ago.” The first man’s voice sounded closer as if he was standing just inside the door.
“Grant.” Yes, that was definitely Colton. His words were somewhat muffled but obviously in distress.
“I’m done. It’s over.”
When Lincoln heard the doorknob turn, he slipped into his apartment, closing his door just as the one across the hall opened. He stood there, listening to the door slam shut and then footsteps echoing down the hall toward the elevator. A quick peek out the door told him that the man was definitely leaving, with a suitcase in one hand and a briefcase in the other.
He closed the door softly and waited for the sound of the clunky elevator arriving and then heading downward. When all was quiet, Lincoln was still standing just inside his door.
Evidently Colton’s relationship with Grant wasn’t all happy and light as he’d imagined it to be. His heart ached for the man across the hall who he imagined was hurt beyond words. He knew how badly that felt and swore to himself for the tenth time since he’d received Jon’s letter that he’d never let that happen to him again.
As he moved through his apartment, he thought back on the volatile relationship he’d had with Jon. Jon was always blowing up over something, threatening to leave. Then he would storm out. Within hours, though, he’d be back and Lincoln would take him to bed and everything would be fine for a while.
Until the next argument.
Until he went to Iowa, though, his habit was storming out empty handed and leaving almost everything behind. Later, when he returned for his belongings, saying he was going to Iowa for a while to stay with his sister, Lincoln thought that should have been
an indication that he really was not coming back.
Hopefully, Grant would come back to Colton and this was just a silly spat. However, the man had had a suitcase in one hand and a briefcase in the other. He was definitely gone for the foreseeable future anyway.
Briefly Lincoln wondered if he should check on Colton. No, the man needed some space, a little time to process what had just happened. He’d give it a day or two, maybe invite Colton to dinner some place quiet where the two men could talk.
Chapter Nine
The remainder of the week was the loneliest days of Colton’s life. He stumbled through his work day in a daze. He spent each night praying that Grant would walk back in the door and all would be well again.
Or at least that he would call.
Neither happened.
He and Richard spoke briefly each day, but it was apparent that he was busy with work and unable or unwilling to get into any deep conversations over the phone. Colton invited him over after work on Friday night so they could talk and he agreed. The last time they’d talked like this, it had been Richard going through a break up with Jeremy. Colton never dreamed the tables would be turned. He passed Lincoln in the hall once or twice. The two men nodded and exchanged greetings, but Colton was in no mood to talk to anyone.
He wanted his old life back.
He wanted Grant back.
On Friday evening, Colton was looking in his refrigerator and wondering when he’d eaten last. His cell phone chimed and he picked it up off the counter ready to dismiss the call.
It was Grant.
“Hello,” Colton said, the word coming out rough, as if he’d almost forgotten how to talk. His heart thudded in his chest, hoping against all odds that Grant wanted to come back.