Reclaiming Love

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Reclaiming Love Page 8

by Vicki McElfresh


  "Why would I object?” In the darkness, Kevin's smile was hard to see, but Connor felt it.

  "Nic, is Dave still home?” More silence. “He can buzz you in. We'll meet you there.” He folded the phone and tucked it back in his pocket.

  "Back to your place?"

  "Well, we can't go to yours. You don't have furniture."

  "I was going to ask about that."

  "Oh?"

  "You wouldn't know where I could get some, do you?"

  "That depends."

  "On what?"

  "What kind of budget. What kind of style. That sort of thing."

  "I like old things, really, antiques, things with character. Price doesn't really matter."

  "Really? Are you independently wealthy and just do Web design for a hobby?"

  Kevin's voice held just a faint edge of cynicism, and Connor winced. He'd expected an objection to his age, not his income. “And if I was?"

  "How?” The cynicism had turned into real anger.

  "What?” He stared at Kevin, but in the darkness he could see little of his expression. “What are you asking?” He had a hunch this sudden anger had something to do with Josh, but he wouldn't ask Kevin that, not yet, maybe when they knew one another a little better.

  "How did you end up with your money, and why on earth are you living in that teeny apartment with no furniture when you could buy whatever you want?"

  Suspicion, he realized, not anger, and Connor sighed. “That's a long story."

  Kevin pulled into the garage of his building and parked in his spot. “I've got lots of time. Nicki told you what happened to me."

  He kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, but Connor still couldn't see much of his expression in the dim light.

  "I didn't ask her to. I didn't really want her to, but she did. I'm glad in a way. We can get this unpleasantness out in the open, but I want to know where your money came from. I'm not looking for someone to take care of me. I have a job that I enjoy, and I'm not giving it up for you or anyone else.” He took a deep breath. “I won't end up like I did with him, a slave to his whims and desires and treated like some sort of animal."

  "I'm not like that, Kevin, and I wouldn't ask you to give anything up for me,” Connor said softly. Kevin didn't move, and Connor closed his eyes, trying to decide the best way to explain. “Once upon a time, I was an investment broker, and I made some good investments that made a lot of money. I got tired of the stress, and I decided to pursue a new career. I'd always enjoyed art, and I had done some freelance work when I was in college. I started out doing logo design and freelance work, and I taught myself Web design. I enjoyed it. I wasn't under the constant stress of my previous job, and I got to be creative. I worked for a consulting firm in New York, and eventually I went out on my own. There's nothing sinister."

  Kevin, however, wasn't convinced. The suspicion still lurked in his voice. “Then why live like you do? You could have a house in a much nicer neighborhood."

  Connor didn't want to laugh, but he couldn't help himself. “Buy a huge house for myself and Thumper? What is the point in that? I don't even cook for myself, Kevin, and I love to cook.” He shook his head and wished he could see Kevin's expression. “I left New York to start over. I made the decision to live on the income from my work and only dip into my savings if I needed to. I wanted to keep that money for other things, and I can live just fine on what I make consulting. Are you satisfied now?"

  Kevin let out a deep breath, and Connor saw his hands unclench from around the steering wheel. The keys rasped from the ignition. “Antiques, huh?"

  Connor blinked, guessing he'd passed whatever tests Kevin had just given him. “Is there a problem with that?"

  "Nope.” He felt that smile again. “I know just the place. Would you like to go tomorrow?"

  "Don't you have to work?"

  "It's my birthday. I try to avoid working on my birthday. I took a vacation day."

  Connor laughed. “Sure. Do you want to pick me up again?” Kevin said nothing while they got out of the car and walked inside the building.

  He laughed softly and slid his hand into Connor's. “I'd love to pick you up.” His voice had gotten light again, and Connor saw a little of the playfulness in his eyes when they stepped into the light. “I'm going to warn you. My friends are my family because I don't have a real one."

  "I've noticed. I keep getting warnings."

  "That wasn't quite what I meant. I guarantee Lilly and Scott will be here, and probably Mark and the pretty boy whose name I can't remember. I call him Pretty Boy, in fact."

  Connor laughed.

  "You laugh now, but I'm serious.” On the elevator ride up, Kevin kissed him, not quite as fiery this time, but hot enough that Connor had to push the images from Kevin's story out of his mind.

  "Sorry,” Kevin said when he pulled away and the doors opened. “I couldn't resist."

  "Don't apologize.” Outside the apartment door, Connor cradled Kevin's face and stared into the dark blue of his eyes. “I like you, and you like me. Why apologize for that?"

  Kevin swallowed hard. “I get all shivery when you say things like that."

  "Good.” Connor pulled him close and kissed him again. Kevin whimpered a little when he pulled away. “I like to make you all shivery."

  Kevin cleared his throat and laid his hand on the doorknob. “Are you ready for chaos?"

  "Is chaos a good thing?"

  "Usually."

  "Then I'm ready."

  Just as Kevin had said, there were several people in the apartment, and Connor only recognized half of them.

  "Told you."

  But instead of seeming overly protective, the group had made an impromptu celebration of the evening. They welcomed Connor, and the whole gathering seemed designed to make Kevin feel loved rather than dwelling on the letter. If that was the purpose, it worked. He started glowing when they broke out the game and made each couple a team. All through the game he was relaxed and happy. What shocked Connor was how good a player Kevin turned out to be. He'd known Kevin was intelligent, but he hadn't guessed he was quite as well read or informed as he proved to be.

  They played one game, which Kevin and Connor won, ate ice cream, but halfway through the next game, Kevin started yawning. The yawns were contagious, and eventually the game was put away. Mark and his pretty boy left shortly afterwards. Dave and Lilly had already vanished into the bedroom.

  "We can take Connor home, Kevin,” Nicki said. “Go to bed.” Kevin had curled up on the couch. His eyes were dark and heavy as though he might fall asleep any minute.

  "Sounds good."

  Nicki and Scott, a man as tall as Connor and much better built, shared a glance. Nicki kissed Kevin's forehead. “We'll see you tomorrow night. The plans haven't changed, have they?"

  "No."

  She laid a hand on Connor's arm when she walked past. “We'll wait in the hall."

  Connor waited until they'd left to kneel beside Kevin. “You look sleepy."

  "I am."

  "To sleepy for a kiss?"

  Kevin responded by pressing his lips to Connor's, nibbling at his lower lip, a teasing kiss. Connor sighed when Kevin pulled away.

  "Not before ten tomorrow. I'm not much of a morning person."

  Kevin giggled. It was a strange sound. One Connor had never imagined the usually serious Kevin capable of. “I am. I'm usually in bed early."

  "Is that why you've been yawning for the last hour?"

  "Yep."

  "You're okay? You aren't upset—"

  Kevin shook his head. “I'm fine. He likes to fuck with me.” He pointed to the basket on the counter. “I have a collection. This one just hurt a little more than the others."

  Connor caressed Kevin's cheek and pushed his wavy hair out of his face. “Good night, Kevin.” He kissed Kevin's forehead, then his lips one last time before he left, but he paused at the door, looking back to see Kevin's eyes were still closed, and he was smiling. The image tugged at Conn
or's heart, and he felt a sudden rush of protectiveness and something else, some emotion he couldn't quite identify.

  Nicki and Scott were waiting for him at the elevator.

  Nicki pushed the button. “Did he fall asleep before you got to the door?"

  "I'm not sure if he was asleep or just playing at being asleep. He was smiling though."

  "I noticed that he was smiling all night,” Scott said. His bass voice rumbled in the walls, and Connor found it strangely soothing. Scott spoke very little, but when he did speak, he commanded attention. He was attractive. His face was a little homely, but he had thick, dark hair that he kept pulled into a ponytail, and his eyes were chocolate brown. “We didn't know about the letters.” The elevator opened and they stepped inside. “Otherwise, I'd have gone over to the pansy's house and beat the shit out of him."

  "Kevin said it wasn't a big deal...” Connor tried to make light of the situation, but something in Scott's eyes made him stop.

  "I've got a friend who's a cop. I'm going to give him a call. See if there anything he can do. Kevin's still terrified of Josh.” The elevator opened, and they walked out to the parking lot. “He says he isn't, but we all know better. He's terrified of him. He doesn't need a roommate, but he's afraid to be alone. He has been ever since he got out of the hospital.” Scott drove one of those huge pickups that required a stepladder to get into. He lifted Nicki up into the cab.

  "Dave and Lilly usually stay here. It sounds strange.” Nicki fastened her seat belt and shrugged. “I know most people wouldn't like that, but Kev's afraid to be left alone for more than a night. He's gotten a little better, but if I'd known Josh was still harassing him...” She sighed. “I don't know."

  "He didn't press charges?"

  "No. We tried to get him to, once we were sure he was going to live, but he refused. The cops even talked to him. They sent over a woman detective. He wouldn't talk to her. He might now, but I don't think he would press charges. He's still afraid."

  Connor pondered that on the rest of the drive to his apartment. He started to climb out of the truck, but Nicki stopped him with a soft touch.

  "Don't push and be patient. Nicki knows best."

  He smiled at patted her hand. “I'll take your advice this time."

  "This time?” She grinned. “You didn't before?” He shook his head. “Shame on you. If you wanted to torture yourself like that—” He shut the door on her, but she rolled the window down. “Night, Connor."

  "Good night.” He watched the truck drive off before he climbed the steps up to his flat. He didn't go to bed right away. Instead, he sat in his chair with Thumper in his lap, thinking about Kevin. He'd recognized that other fleeting emotion that had come along with his surge of protectiveness. “Do you like Kevin, Thumper?” The cat opened his yellow eyes and gave him a disdainful stare. “I hope so, because I think I could fall in love with him. I swore I wasn't going to do that again, but I think it might already be too late.” He went to bed after that, and dreamed of the sweet smile he'd last seen Kevin wearing.

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  Chapter Seven

  The music throbbed deep inside Kevin's body. His heart beat a counterpoint to the heavy rhythm, and he moved, working through the dance exercises that had been part of his day since he was a child. He knew the steps and longed for more space, space to actually move. Belly or no, he spent an hour every day doing warm up exercises, working on technique, choreographing dances in his mind. Sometimes he went to a nearby gym to use their aerobics room for a little while. He missed the dance.

  This morning, he wore a pair of faded sweats and a T-shirt. His worn ballet shoes slid easily on the hardwood floor, and he danced as best he could in the cramped space, moving and turning to the music, finding the rhythms he'd missed for so long. The steps felt a little awkward at times, but he found them again, and soon he was lost in the music, lost in the dance, a spell broken when someone knocked on the door.

  He froze and glanced at the intercom, but he didn't remember it buzzing. He turned the music down and peeked through the little peephole on the door. There was a girl on the other side. She held out a box when he opened the door. “This was downstairs for you."

  Kevin let out a heavy breath.

  "I thought you'd like to have it brought up."

  "Thanks,” he said and took the package. The girl didn't look familiar, but that meant nothing. He hadn't tried to meet all of his neighbors. He shut and locked the door behind him. The box had no return address, though it was clearly addressed to him. He left it on the counter, afraid to open it. He didn't like surprises, and even though it was his birthday, he was sure his friends would bring their gifts that evening to the party they'd planned. His enthusiasm for the dance gone now, he went to take a shower. It was nine o'clock, and he wanted to pick up Connor around ten.

  He forgot all about the box while he showered and dressed, singing along to Pink. He was ready by nine-thirty and left. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled as he unlocked his car, but when he looked around, he didn't see anyone. The sensation of being watched didn't go away, but he brushed it off as paranoia. He wasn't going to let yesterday's letter ruin his birthday, or any other day. He was tired of living in fear all of the time. He had every right to see his boyfriend.

  "Boyfriend?” he whispered. “When did I start thinking of him like that?” He backed the car out and shoved the thought aside. “Friend,” he decided, even though friends didn't usually make his heart thump and his cock hard.

  He stopped at Einstein Bagels before driving to Connor's apartment. He fought to keep from running up the stairs, and was proud that he was composed when he rapped on the door holding two cups of coffee and a sack of bagels and cream cheese. Connor opened the door wearing only a pair of sweat pants. His hair was damp, and he smelled like soap.

  Kevin's mouth went dry. He licked his lips. “I brought breakfast,” he managed to say, but he couldn't quite tear his eyes from the rippling muscles of Connor's stomach. It looked just as hard and defined as he'd imagined. He felt suddenly inadequate, and he heard Josh's voice telling him he was fat and ugly again. Along with Josh's voice was his own, the one he'd never quite been able to banish, no matter hard Devon made him try. What could Connor possibly see in a ruined little dancer?

  "Kevin? Are you going to come in?"

  Kevin blinked a few times and finally stepped into the apartment. He felt awkward, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't meet Connor's gaze.

  "Let me take that.” Connor took the coffee and sack of bagels from him. “I'm sorry. I just got out of the shower.” He ushered Kevin to the one chair, a nice leather chair that was soft and comfortable, and dropped Thumper into his lap. “I'm going to put some clothes on, and I'll be right back. Thumper can keep you company till then.” Connor's fingers brushed his cheek very gently, and then he left Kevin alone.

  Kevin took a few deep breaths and walked mentally through his calming exercises. Thumper purred happily when he scratched the cat's ears, and his discomfort slowly faded away. “He's a good guy, isn't he?” he asked the cat in a whisper. “Does he spoil you?” The cat opened his mouth in a soundless mew. Kevin laughed.

  "He doesn't talk much.” Connor slid the office chair across the floor and propped his feet on one of the milk crates. He pointed to the coffee. “Which one is mine?"

  "They're the same, and I only got plain bagels and cream cheese. I didn't know what you'd like.” Connor took one of the bagels out of the sack and smeared it with cream cheese.

  "This is fine. Thank you for this. I hadn't eaten breakfast yet."

  Kevin smiled and took the coffee Connor held out to him. “You're welcome."

  "Don't you want something?"

  "I already ate.” It was a lie. He hadn't eaten anything, but he also hadn't shaken the little voice telling him he was fat and ugly. He would eat later. Missing breakfast wouldn't hurt him. Connor seemed concerned, but he said nothing. Kevin was grateful for that. He did
n't want to confess more dark secrets.

  "Where are we going?"

  "You said you liked antiques and that sort of thing?"

  "I'd be satisfied with something functional.” He took Kevin's hand. “Here, come see.” He showed Kevin the dining room where there were boxes stacked against the wall. In the bedroom, he'd made a makeshift nightstand from another milk crate. The bed frame and mattress were new, and the only other piece of furniture was the chest. Kevin ran his hands over it.

  "I shipped it from New York. I couldn't leave it behind. It's the real thing. Stickley."

  "I like it."

  "Anything at all would be wonderful. I have ten boxes of books in the dining room. A table to eat on might be nice.” The kitchen was in the back of the apartment, behind the dining room. It was small and white with just enough room for one person to work comfortably. The walls in the apartment were all painted a soft mint green with white woodwork. The wooden floors were natural and gave off a soft golden glow when the sun touched them.

  "Cherokee Street,” Kevin said with a smile. “There are loads of little antique stores and junk shops there. Some of them just sell reproductions, but you said you didn't care."

  "I don't care."

  Kevin moved close enough to peck Connor on the lips. He was grateful when Connor didn't press him for more. Part of Kevin wanted that. He was attracted to Connor in a way he'd not been attracted to anyone for years, but he hadn't forgotten the sick games Josh had played with him. He was afraid, very afraid, to let Connor close, no matter how much he wanted him.

  "Let's go then."

  Kevin didn't talk while he drove. He kept thinking of Connor's physique and comparing it to his own. He had a dancer's build, compact and tight, but he no longer spent two hours a day in a studio dancing seriously, though he stayed in shape with his exercises. He touched his belly. The flab there was a testament to his lax attitude. Dave kept telling him he was imagining things, but he knew the truth.

  He should start again. He missed the studio, missed dancing, and when he was really honest, he missed performing. Connor would probably be more satisfied with him if his stomach were flat and hard.

 

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