“Something tells me that you would say that about anything I wore.”
“And you would be right." He took my hand and he tugged me forward. “Come on. I can’t wait for you to see this place.”
“Have you been here a lot?” I asked, suddenly jealous at the thought of Arthur bringing other men here. I pushed it aside.
“Are you asking if I’ve brought dates here? No. This is something I do just for me.”
“How did you know?”
“I could see it in your eyes." He elbowed me playfully and winked. “Jealousy is not your best look.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
“What about that place with the cheeses? Have you taken anyone there before?”
“No, I usually take them to this dive bar.”
“Usually?” he asked, laughing. “Are you a serial dater or something?”
I almost denied it, but I remembered my promise to Eddie. This time was going to be different, and if it didn’t work out, it wouldn’t be because I didn’t try to do better. “Yes. I was. But I had a revelation, and I made my son a promise.”
He stopped laughing, his face serious. “And what was that?”
“I promised him that I would set the judgment aside, and I would get to know someone on a deeper level before I decided that they weren’t for me.”
“Is that what you’re doing now?”
“No,” I admitted. “It turns out that it wasn’t me. I just wasn’t dating the right guys.
All that judgment, and all those little doubts that popped up in the back of my mind, haven’t happened with you. I don’t know how to explain it, but I can tell it’s different this time. Maybe it will end in the best friendship I’ve ever known, but I feel like this is something special."
I paused, searching his green eyes for reassurance. “I hope that doesn’t scare you off.”
“No, it doesn’t,” he said quietly, pulling me aside to avoid the group that was heading into the art barn. “Actually, it makes me feel better. I’ve noticed the same thing about you.
“I’m not defensive, and I’m not using some of the coping mechanisms I usually rely on. I’m like a completely different person, but a better version of myself, you know?”
“They always say the best relationships bring out the best in both people.”
He smiled, and I longed to reach out and caress his cheek. But someone inside was calling for everyone to gather round, and it was too soon. I wanted to wait. He was that special to me.
“It’s time to paint,” I said nervously. “Be prepared to be underwhelmed.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t show off.”
“Thanks,” I said wryly. “You really are the best.”
We walked into the building hand in hand, found the last two canvases side by side, and settled in.
When a cheery woman came around with wine, I gladly took one. We were only three steps into our tree, and I was already lost. Arthur had looked over at my creation more than once, but if he was laughing at me, he was hiding it well.
I leaned over, putting my hand on his shoulder and getting close enough to whisper in his ear. “Why does yours look like a tree?”
“Because I’m watching the teacher and not my date,” he said with a shrug.
“My view is better.”
He smiled, still intent on what he was doing. “Try to keep up,” he teased.
I laughed, then went back to butchering the painting that I was working so hard at. When the teacher came around to check our work, she stopped at mine and tilted her head. “Wow,” she said, no indication of what she meant by that one word in her voice.
“You obviously do this a lot,” I said. “You’re very good at making sure I don’t feel completely emasculated by my artistic failing.”
The teacher laughed so hard she snorted. “That’s the first time I’ve heard anyone say that." She put her hand out for my paint brush. “May I?”
“Well, you can’t make it worse.”
She made a few swipes, and after about three brushstrokes, my eyes grew wide. “Hey, that looks like a real tree now.”
She nodded. “It was in there. You just had to give it a way to get out. See? You’re not half bad.”
Inspired by the change, I started working at my canvas, watching the teacher out of the corner of my eye while she critiqued Arthur’s masterpiece. Then she left, and I leaned over again. “She didn’t paint on yours,” I said.
“It didn’t need anything.”
“Or maybe it needed too much.”
“How much wine have you had?” he quipped.
“Enough to feel like a genuine artist.”
“Oh boy,” he said, grabbing the wine glass I’d placed where the water cup for my brushes should’ve been and setting it out of reach. “No more wine for you.”
“That’s all right,” I said, feeling especially bold. “I don’t need wine when I have you.”
He looked stunned, then a slow smile made its way across his handsome face. I wanted to kiss him again, but not right there in the middle of class. Even with a belly full of wine, I still had my limits.
The teacher finished the class, then came around the room with a plate full of breads and cheeses. I took one of each, but she insisted I have more. “I’m fine,” I said.
“I know, but I hope you have someone to drive you home." She looked pointedly at Arthur.
“I’ve got him,” Arthur said.
“I’m not drunk,” I said. “But I am a little buzzed.”
“I’ll drive you home,” he said.
“And how will you get home?”
“I’ll take a Lyft back here and get my car.”
“Are you sure?”
“Are you kidding? I’ve been dying to drive the Audi.”
“All right,” I said, letting him lead the way to my car and handing him the keys. “It’s got a lot more power than your electric car.”
“That’s what I was hoping.”
I got into the passenger seat, and Arthur turned the car on and eased out of the space. “You’re going to have to tell me where you live. And there’s the issue of whether or not your son should see us driving up together like this.”
“He’s at my parents’ house.” I winked. “Spending the night.”
“You are hella laid back when you’re tipsy.”
“I’m starting to feel better already; I like feeling this free. I’m not used to being so lighthearted.”
Arthur took my hand and brought it to his lips, kissing my knuckles and setting my soul aflame. “It’s a good look on you. Now, tell me where you live, and I’ll take you home. I’ll even walk you to your door.”
“I’m not sure I’m ready for this night to end,” I said, pushing the navigation button and scrolling to my home address.
“What are you saying?” he asked.
“I’m not saying we should sleep together, but I have a big-screen tv and premium cable.”
He looked at me, searching my eyes. I smiled. “Are you sure?” he asked.
“It’s just a little tv,” I said.
We made it to my house a few minutes later, and he held my hand as we walked up to the side door. I turned on the kitchen light and grabbed a couple bottles of water from the fridge, then led him to the den and I turned on the tv. “What do you want to watch?” I asked.
“I don’t care,” he said. “I just want to be here, with you.”
My stomach fluttered, and I felt a familiar heat building inside. I wanted to take him to my room so badly, show him what he was missing so he would never leave.
But I had a son, and so did he. It was up to us to make good decisions, even if they killed us.
He sat down on the couch beside me. I put my arm around his waist, my hand resting on his hip. The house was cool, and when I felt him shiver, I grabbed a blanket from the space between the couch and the wall and handed it to him.
“Thanks,” he said.
I responded by kissing his cheek and settling in to watch a movie that was already thirty minutes in. I didn’t bother to look up the name. I didn’t really care.
My hand was on his thigh, his hand on mine, the blanket covering both. I was stroking his thigh, dangerously close to crossing a line I wasn’t sure we were ready for. Still, I moved a little, my knuckles grazing the side of his shaft.
I froze, about to pull my hand away and apologize, when Arthur grabbed my hand and looked into my eyes. I saw the need there, mixed with uncertainty and something else I couldn’t quite place. I leaned down and kissed him, tenderly this time, reassuring him that it was about more than just lust. “I’m not expecting anything in return,” I said.
He nodded, kissing me again when I leaned forward. He was scared, which I found so endearing, I almost took him to bed right then.
Arthur didn’t move to help me, but I knew exactly what he needed. I unzipped his cargo shorts and pushed them open, slipping my hand into his boxers and grabbing his erection in my hand. I had my other arm around his back, holding him tightly, kissing his neck as I stroked him until he was rock hard, then ran my thumb over the head, teasing the excited flesh with every stroke.
“It’s been a long time,” he said quietly.
“I’ll be gentle,” I said.
I settled in, kissing his cheek and leaning against him, letting the tv draw our attention again. I took my time, and it wasn’t until the end credits came on that I quickened my leisurely pace, no longer teasing him.
He moaned when I turned to face him and threw my leg over his to hold him open. I cupped his balls with my free hand, stroking the smooth flesh with my fingertips until he was trembling in my hands.
He called out my name in the darkness, bucking and writhing as he came, then falling back against the sofa, gasping, trying to catch his breath. I captured his mouth with mine, my hand cupping his manhood as he came down from an intense orgasm. His body was relaxed and his pants were still unzipped when I balled up the blanket and threw it towards the laundry room.
“Sorry about that,” he chuckled.
“It won’t be the last time,” I promised.
I gathered him into my arms, ignoring my own need for the pure joy of holding him. He was still partly undressed, but we were too focused on holding each other to care.
Arthur was nestled against my chest and almost asleep when he sat bolt upright and looked at the time. He sighed and kissed me quickly. “I have to go,” he said. “I have to be somewhere in the morning.”
“Me too,” I groaned.
“When can I see you again?”
“I have a long week,” I admitted. “Can I touch base with you midweek, and we’ll see where we’re both at?”
“Of course." He smiled mischievously. “And if you decide I need to return the favor before that, kissing isn’t my only oral talent." He winked, and I laughed.
I ran my fingers over his manhood one last time, then sighed when he stood and fixed his clothing. After I called him a Lyft, I waited outside with him until it arrived.
“I’ll see you soon,” I said, kissing him goodbye. Then I watched the car’s taillights disappear into the night, and wished that just this once, I would’ve ignored the little voice inside my head and asked him to stay.
10
Arthur
I pulled into my driveway and got out of the Leaf, trying my best not to be envious of the Audi. “You don’t need more power,” I said out loud as I sat in the driver’s seat, listening to the radio.
Leaning back, I closed my eyes, my mind filled with the image of Jonas’s face as he jacked me off. It had been so long since I’d let another man touch me like that, but Jonas had made me feel so safe and so cherished that I couldn’t resist.
He’d been insistent, and my resolve to wait until we’d been dating at least a month went out the window when we kissed.
I smiled, closing my eyes, every moment seared into my memory. He is a little pushy, I thought, remembering how he’d taken charge so many times, both at his house and on previous dates. Bossy wasn’t my style, but he had so many wonderful qualities that I could overlook the need for structure and control for now.
When I opened my eyes again, I caught my reflection in the rearview mirror. “I’m sure there are things about you Jonas would change, too,” I said to my reflection with a smirk. It was true; I had a lot I needed to work on, and I was in no position to judge someone else on their shortcomings.
I turned the radio off, then groaned. I could hear noise coming from our house. Leo must have the TV on full blast, I thought.
I got out, dropping the keys as I fumbled to find the alarm, then grabbing them up and arming the car. I ran to the door and flung it open. It fell shut behind me, but I was already on the move, following the deafening sound of the video game Leo was playing in the living room.
“Turn it down!” I shouted to be heard over the cacophony of laser sound effects, carnage, and war. “It’s late!”
Leo looked at me with an expressionless face, blinked as if he was surprised to see me, then held up his hands as if to ask what I’d said.
“I can’t hear you!” he shouted over the noise.
I rolled my eyes and rushed forward, grabbing the remote and hitting the mute button. The noise dropped away in an instant, the sudden silence almost as overwhelming as the noise had been.
“What the hell, Arthur?” Leo said, crossing his arms after he threw the controller down on the ground. “Why you gotta be like that?”
“I took this away from you.”
“I took it back.”
I took a deep breath, surprised at the frustration that filled me with just four little words. He’d gone into my room and taken everything back without a second thought.
Closing my eyes, I tried to contain my anger. I would deal with this, but it would have to wait. Right now, I was too flustered to react appropriately.
I decided to switch gears.“I thought you were supposed to be working on your book report." I motioned toward the epic fantasy book that was sitting beside him, upside down, open to show that he’d already read nearly three quarters of the book. “You should’ve been able to finish it tonight.”
He shrugged. “I have all day tomorrow.”
“No, you don’t. You have volunteering in the morning.”
I sat on the couch near him, giving him enough space so he didn’t feel crowded. He wrinkled his nose and shook his head at me. “I guess you got all dolled up for your date,” he said. “You smell like a tropical island. I guess that’s an upgrade from smelling like a pothead. Did you smash?”
“That’s really none of your business,” I said, my cheeks turning hot with embarrassment. I might not be up on the latest lingo, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out my son was asking if I’d slept with Jonas. “But, no, we didn’t sleep together."
I omitted some of the facts, but I wasn’t lying. We hadn’t had sex, at least not in the traditional sense. And I had a feeling that sleep was the last thing I’d be getting with Jonas around.
“You’re so lame,” Leo said, glaring at me.
I realized I was smiling dreamily, remembering Jonas’s soft lips on my neck and ... I shook my head and forced myself to let go of that line of thinking. I had to focus. Leo was obviously in a mood, and he was in a rare, talkative mood.
I patted his leg affectionately, the only contact he allowed now that he was too old and “too cool” for hugs. He let out a big, frustrated sigh, then leaned back and crossed his arms again.
“How was your date?” he asked, his tone infused with just the right amount of apathy, trying to convince me that he was only asking and didn’t really care.
I bit back a smile. It was better than I’d been getting from him lately. “It was wonderful. He’s an amazing man.”
“You gonna go out again?”
“Hopefully.”
Leo scoffed before I could say more. “Please tell me you’re not going to wai
t for him to make the next move, like you’re some kind of girl or something.”
He looked at me, his lips parting in surprise, then down at the carpet. “I didn’t mean that you’re girly just cause, you know…”
“’Cause I’m gay?”
“Yeah, that.”
“I don’t act feminine.”
“I know that,” Leo said, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t mean to say that you were girly. I just don’t get why you don’t just set another date. You’re both men. Why the games?”
A lopsided grin spread across his face, and a hint of the eight-year-old boy I’d adopted shone through the gruff, adolescent façade. “I thought dating a guy would be easier than being with women. It’s not like you have to figure out what they want. You’re a guy. You know what guys want, right?”
I chuckled. “If only it were that easy. Being with another man is just as complicated as dating women. Maybe even more so.”
“It doesn’t seem like it should be. Dating girls is hard.” He stopped, closing his mouth quickly.
“Are you dating someone?” I asked, wondering when my little guy had started turning into a young man. Why did they have to grow up so fast?
“No,” he said, indignantly. “But I like this girl.”
“Does she like you back?”
“It’s complicated,” he said, then he shifted uncomfortably and changed the subject. “Can you call Principal Moss and tell her I’m sick? I’m not volunteering.”
“You have to. It’s the only way you’re going to avoid getting kicked out of school.”
“It’s not volunteering if you’re forced to do it. And if they kick me out, so what? School is lame as fu—”
“Watch your mouth,” I said, before he could finish.
“Don’t be such a prude, Dad.”
My heart skipped a beat when he said “Dad,” even though he was still being quite disrespectful. I smiled at him, the urge to reach out and brush his hair back from his face so strong. He still looked so little and so lost, just like he had the day the social worker had brought him to my house just before his ninth birthday.
And now he was older, but still that same lost, little boy, desperate to be loved. I sighed and bit my lip.
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