Dare to Hope

by Caitlin Ricci

  Samuel shook his head and reached down to the floor beside the couch, where he placed the kit to take care of later. “You’re not going anywhere. I just feel a bit old, you know? I sort of didn’t know people took to practices like this to deal with emotional challenges. When I went through stuff, it was the usual—alcohol, marijuana, methamphetamine in severe cases. I guess I’m a bit shocked and trying to process what you’ve told me.” He wiped a hand over his face, then tapped the space next to him. “Sit down.”

  Chris folded himself onto the seat and tucked his legs beside him, facing Samuel. He laid his head on the soft cushion, and Samuel could see the dark smudges under his expressive eyes and the exhaustion lines all over his skin. He resisted the urge to smooth them away with his fingertips. In his heart, he wished it was as simple to stroke away Chris’s inner pain.

  “Do you still have to milk and do all the stuff you had to in Montana, or do you have people for that now?”

  Samuel smiled weakly at his attempt to change the subject. “I do some days. It’s nice being the boss, but I like to stay busy too. So if I’m not milking, I’m somewhere else on the farm doing work.”

  “That explains why you’re so buff,” Chris teased. “Tell me about your place here. I must say how beautiful it is, the scenery, the mountains in the distance. It’s so green wherever you look.”

  Samuel snorted as he turned sideways and copied Chris’s pose. “Wait until late summer comes and it doesn’t rain much. Then it all goes yellow and brown. The only green paddocks you’ll see then are the ones with maize in them. The Waikato is renowned for having droughts.”

  Chris’s gaze ran over his face, down his chest, and over his outstretched legs. After having his shower earlier, Samuel had put on a T-shirt and a pair of long khaki shorts. “Trent and I own this operation as mutual partners. At peak time we milk approximately two thousand cows through three rotary milking sheds. So in effect the property is divided into three smaller farms, and I manage one, Trent another, and we have Daniel on the third. We each then have three staff—a herd manager, assistant herd manager, and farm assistant—working with us. There are twelve of us in total, and one bloke is a qualified mechanic by trade, but he loves milking cows more. He makes it easy to maintain and service equipment, motors, tractors, and bikes, and if he can’t fix it, we send it into the dealerships in town to take care of.”

  Chris’s eyes were wide when he stopped speaking. “Wow, twelve? That’s a hell of a lot of employees. Where do they all live? In town?”

  Samuel got up from the couch and held out his hand to Chris. “No, there’s housing for everyone on the farm. Come to the kitchen so I can make something to fatten you up. Would you like a hot drink?”

  Chris’s fingers were cold when they landed on his palm, and he pulled him to his feet. He rubbed Chris’s fingers between both his hands. “Are you cold?” Looking closer, he almost thought he saw Chris shiver.

  Chris chuckled. “No, I actually think my body is in a bit of shock right now. I think I’m crashing from being on a continuous adrenaline high at work and the shit I have to deal with there. Now my body is so relaxed and calm that it doesn’t know how to deal with peace. I love being around you. You make me forget about all the crap in my life.”

  Samuel pulled him closer and felt Chris wrap his arms around his waist to hug him tight. They stood there for a few minutes before Chris slowly withdrew with a deep sigh. He gave Samuel another once-over, his gaze coming to rest on the crotch of Samuel’s shorts.

  “Sure you don’t want that blowjob?”

  Samuel laughed before pulling Chris toward the open-plan kitchen. “You don’t give up easily, do you?”

  “Not when the reward is so huge,” Chris teased and waggled his eyebrows.

  “Oh, resorting to flattery now?” Samuel pulled out a barstool by the stone and wood bench and indicated Chris should sit there.

  “No, even with your clothes on, I can see well enough what’s hiding under there.”

  A red flush touched Chris’s neck and cheeks, and to Samuel he looked a bit better, so he walked away and opened the fridge to see what he could make them for dinner before Chris fell asleep at the table.

  “Now who’s being a tease? Showing off your tight ass now, are you?” Chris taunted him. “If I wasn’t at risk of falling flat on my face from exhaustion, I’d come over there and slap it.”

  “Yeah, stay right there, or you’ll sleep on the kitchen tiles tonight,” Samuel warned.

  “No I won’t. My guardian angel would carry me to bed,” Chris bragged.

  “Ha-ha. Okay, I’ve got fresh organic farm eggs and sliced champagne ham. How about a fluffy omelet with a side salad?” He turned around and had to clear his throat to get Chris to stop looking below his waistline. “You’ve got a one-track mind.”

  “With you I do. I know what I like, and yes, an omelet sounds great. Thank you.” Chris slid off his chair and walked closer. “Show me where your cutlery is, and I’ll set the table for us and get the kettle boiling for our drinks.”

  Samuel removed what he needed from the fridge and placed it on the island in the middle of the kitchen. He showed Chris where to find all he needed to make their teas and ready the table for dinner.

  They worked in comfortable silence for a bit, and as Samuel poured the egg into the pan for the first omelet, Chris sat back down and watched him.

  “What’s fun to do around here?”

  “First of all, New Zealand is not America, and secondly, we’re out in the country here, but we can still have lots of fun. On Friday nights, all the families get together at the local school sports fields, only about six kilometers from here, and we play sports—netball, touch rugby, tennis, or whatever you like. In Thames, about twenty kilometers away, we have a cinema, large supermarkets, public heated swimming pools, indoor go-kart racing. The nightlife is not too shabby either, with three nightclubs, some pubs, or bars as you would call them, but a bit more rustic than your version. Oh yes. One of the nightclubs is a gay one.” Samuel turned over the omelet and put the cheese, ham, and herbs in before folding it in half and allowing it to cook another minute or two.

  Chris yawned when Samuel slid his food onto his plate and placed the bowl of green garden salad beside him.

  “Eat up. You’re about to fall asleep in your plate.”

  “I am so hungry but tired too. Thank you. It smells great.” Chris picked up his knife and fork and cut off a piece, which he blew on a bit before eating. “Yum.”

  Samuel went back to the stove and started his own food.

  “So where’s the closest city from here?” Chris asked in between bites.

  “Hamilton and Auckland are almost equal distances from here. About an hour’s drive or so, and there’s no limit to the fun you can have in either of them.”

  While his egg cooked, Samuel poured the boiled water into the cups Chris had placed by the kettle. He stirred and added milk before placing them on the table, noticing Chris’s plate was almost empty.

  Chris shook his head. “Thanks. I don’t think I want to go back to Auckland again so soon after just coming from there, but I would like to see Hamilton sometime maybe, if we have time.”

  “Sure. Whatever you want.”

  That made Chris smile, but the expression was gone as quickly as it had come. “Though Hamilton is probably fairly small, and I imagine the chance of running into Bran, Kaden, or Trent is going to be highest there. That trip will probably have to wait until I’ve told Bran that I’m here. I need this time to get sane again, but I’m not looking forward to what will happen when he finds out I was within driving distance of him.” He shook his head before finishing off the last of his dinner. “And, speaking of Bran, I need to call him. We talk daily, and if I miss one I don’t want him to think something’s up. Can I trust you not to give anything away while I’m on the phone?”

  Samuel frowned. “Wouldn’t it be easier just to tell him?”

  “Probably. But I can
’t. Not right now. But I’ll see him before I go back to Manhattan, which won’t be too far out. I don’t have that much vacation time saved up. Let me know how long you’re okay with me staying after my phone call. Are you going to give me away?”

  Chris looked so helpless, nearly desperate, and Samuel simply shook his head. The idea of Chris going back to Manhattan had him feeling angry all over again, but he couldn’t very well force Chris to stay in New Zealand either.

  Chris pulled out his phone, and Samuel quietly kept eating, his mind circling on thoughts of how he was going to get Chris better and no longer hurting himself before he went back home. There was no easy solution, especially when Samuel felt so out of his depth with what Chris was doing to himself.

  “Hey, you,” Bran said warmly as soon as he picked up the call. Samuel was surprised Chris had put it on speakerphone.

  Chris glanced at Samuel, as if making sure he wouldn’t reveal his secrets, before turning back to his phone. “Hey. How’s life as a weird little flightless bird?”

  Bran laughed, and Samuel was glad to see Chris smiling. “Really nice. Quiet. Kaden does his farming stuff. I get to enjoy what it does to his body. He’s so fucking hot. Damn. What’s going on with you? Why do you sound so tired?”

  Samuel saw Chris stiffen even from a few feet away and reached over to touch him on his lower back, offering some silent comfort. Chris gave him a small nod before answering Bran.

  “Because I am tired. Hard day at the office. I’m going to be crashing soon, but I wanted to say hi first.”

  “It’s still early there….”

  “It is.”

  Bran sighed loudly. “Your dad being an asshole again? When are you going to let me pay someone to kill him?”

  “He wasn’t too bad today. And you can’t kill him, or pay someone else to either. He’s my dad.” Chris leaned forward a little. “I’m gonna let you go. I’m barely awake here, and I don’t want to fall asleep on the phone.”

  “Okay. First, though, quick questions. Misha and therapy?”

  Samuel shook his head as he saw Chris round his shoulders forward, looking like he was getting upset.

  “Misha’s good. He’s coming over tomorrow. And I go to therapy in two days. Lots of progress. Still not drinking or having random sex. Saving myself for Samuel and marriage like a good little virgin bride. I’m okay, Bran. You don’t have to worry. Go enjoy your hot Kiwi.”

  “I’d pay good money to see you dressed up like a bride. With a veil and nail polish. Some killer heels. You’d be so pretty!”

  Chris snorted and shook his head. “No way in hell. Night.”

  “Night. Talk to you tomorrow. Wish you’d come down here. You’re welcome anytime. I know we’d all love to see you again.”

  “I know. I will soon. Promise.”

  “Yeah, yeah. You said that six months ago too. Be good.”

  Samuel couldn’t stop staring at Chris. He lied so easily, even to Bran, not letting even his best friend know the most basic details of what was going on in his life. It was unfair to Bran, and by his expression, it clearly hurt Chris to do it.

  “I always am. Good night.” Chris hung up the phone and went to put his empty dishes away. “What?” he asked Samuel once he’d turned around.

  “You clearly have practice lying to him.” Samuel couldn’t disguise the anger in his voice. He was so mad at Chris in that moment for not taking care of himself but also refusing to even let anyone know how badly his life had spiraled out of control. If any of them had known, they would have been able to help him. It never had to get this bad, and Samuel was pissed off over Chris letting it. “When was the last time you went to therapy?”

  Chris shifted uncomfortably. “A month after Montana.”

  That was hardly enough time to get anything resolved. “Why did you stop?”

  “Romanoffs don’t go to therapy.” Chris’s voice had gone hard, and Samuel had a fairly good idea of where the words were coming from. It seemed Chris’s father had not only caused his problems but had stopped him from getting help as well.

  “Thanks for dinner,” Chris said, coming away from the dishwasher. “I need to get something out of my kit. But I’ll bring it in here so you can see what I take and make sure it’s not my knife.”

  “What do you need?” Samuel asked him as he watched Chris go back into the living room and pick up the small black case, which was barely longer than the space between his wrist and the tip of his middle finger, and bring it back into the kitchen.

  Chris put it on the island where Samuel could see and opened it up, revealing a simple knife with a smooth edge strapped to one side and a plastic bag full of first aid supplies on the other.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Chris asked him instead of answering Samuel’s question. “It’s lightweight and sharp as fuck. It cuts cleanly and only leaves a minimal scar.”

  “It’s what you use to hurt yourself with,” Samuel said plainly, not liking the way Chris seemed almost to fawn over it. To Samuel it was something ugly, something he wished Chris would throw away and never think of again. But from the way Chris stared at it, he knew that wasn’t going to happen right away, and it saddened him to realize that.

  Chris nodded, then went for the plastic bag. He pulled out a large piece of gauze and some medical tape before sealing it up again. “The deep cut I was telling you about? The one I made right before calling you? I need to change that bandage. It should be fine by tomorrow. I’m good at patching myself up. Scared me more than anything.”

  He closed the case and passed it over to Samuel, who ignored it in favor of watching Chris.

  “You should have told us what you were going through,” Samuel said as he tried to touch Chris, but Chris moved out of Samuel’s reach before he could touch him, and Samuel let his hand fall limply back to his side.

  “I wanted to be better,” Chris whispered before taking off up the stairs.

  Samuel sadly watched him walk away, feeling helpless as to what to do to help him.

  Chapter Four

  MOST OF the time, if it was four in the morning, Chris would be fast asleep. But this was not a normal morning, and he’d barely been able to get any sleep. After so much travel, it also didn’t feel like four to him. So when Samuel went into the shower at four, Chris heard him. And he was half tempted to go in there with Samuel to surprise him. But he’d only been joking about having a shower with him the day before, and Chris wasn’t quite ready to show Samuel the tattoo he’d designed on his ribs. It meant a lot to him, and he knew someday he would show it to Samuel. But he wasn’t up for it this morning. Instead he pulled out a clean shirt and a pair of loose shorts and waited outside the shower for Samuel to emerge.

  He got his wish no more than ten minutes later and wondered how anyone showered that quickly and actually managed to enjoy the experience. “Hey,” he said, as quietly as he could, when Samuel opened the door. If someone had startled him that early, he would have screamed so loud his neighbors would have called the police. But Samuel only opened the door all the way and gave him a nod.

  “Did I wake you?”

  Shaking his head, Chris pulled the clothes he’d be changing into closer to his chest, holding them up like a shield even though there was no reason at all for him to feel so defensive around Samuel.

  “No. I was up already. It’s a little hard to sleep without sirens going by all night and people yelling under my window. It’s nice here. Peaceful. I can see why you all like it.”

  Samuel gave him a soft smile. “It is. I need to go help with the milking for a few hours. Will you be okay here alone?”

  Chris tried not to feel like a child as Samuel looked at him as if he expected Chris to get into trouble while he wasn’t there, and instead reminded himself that Samuel was likely just worried about him.

  “I’ll be fine. You have my kit. That’s the only real trouble I get into anymore. I know you still have to handle farm work, so go for it. I’ll see you in a few hour
s for breakfast.” Chris gave him his best smile, but Samuel still didn’t look quite convinced, so Chris stepped up to him and gave Samuel a quick kiss on his cheek. “Go do farmy things. I’ll probably just go right back to sleep after I shower. Worst case scenario, I walk around for a little while and keep a low profile. You don’t have to worry. I’ll be okay.”

  Samuel gave him a nod, but the concern lingered in his eyes.

  “Or… we could go to your room, and someone else could milk those cows this morning,” Chris offered him as he shifted his clothes into his left arm and used his now free right hand to trace the top of Samuel’s pants, right over his button.

  “It’s a little early,” Samuel said, even as he smiled.

  Smirking, Chris moved past him and into the bathroom. “If you say so. You ever get a craving for something American this early in the morning, though, you know where to find me.”

  Chris shut the bathroom door on Samuel’s quiet laughter. It felt good to be able to flirt with him, to touch him and know that Samuel would be good to him when he took him up on his offer. The waiting wasn’t fun, but as long as he could make Samuel see reason and that they’d be good together, Chris was willing to work a bit harder for him.

  He took his time showering as he let the hot water run over his skin and wake him up. His bandage was off, and he knew from experience he was healing nicely. He’d been stupid to cut so deeply or to leave such a long mark on himself. But he knew cutting himself at all was pretty ridiculous.

  When he was in that moment, though, where it felt like he was suffocating from his own life, he couldn’t think of anything past that moment and the release he knew he’d feel in it. Sex worked too, but he hadn’t been with anyone since Montana. Waiting and being good sucked, but if Samuel ever said yes to him, he was sure all that time would be worth it. He just had to get his head out of his ass long enough to make Samuel see they could have fun together.