After a respectful silence, Garrett started talking again, his voice still clogged with pain.
“My dad left when I was six. I told you they were young—Mom was fifteen and he was seventeen when they…. He was an exchange student from Germany. They got married, and he stayed for seven years. And then he went home.”
“Shit, Gare. I’m sorry.”
“He came back when I was fifteen. Just showed up out of the clear blue sky and gave me an ultimatum—come with me now.”
“Or?”
“Or don’t.”
Chase heard the “ever” in Garrett’s tone and tightened his embrace. Garrett sighed, and it held far less pain than his voice had a moment before.
“Never mind that he hadn’t so much as sent me a birthday card in nine years. His family had money—not a ton, but some. I could have gone to art school, been safe. Presumably. I told him no. And then I thought about stepping in front of a train every moment of every day for six months.”
Chase felt like he’d just been punched—again—and held Garrett even closer. He knew that feeling, knew what it meant to feel like your life was over so why not make it official.
“It’s not the same,” Garrett went on, interrupting Chase’s dark thoughts. “My dad’s not dead, and I hardly even knew him when he lived here. But I get how hard it is to be left behind. And then to be let down…. To have your own father—” Garrett’s voice cracked on the word father, and he took a moment before continuing. “—not want you.”
Chase opened his mouth but didn’t get the chance to speak.
“Our fathers are idiots. It’s not us. It’s them. I never really believed that until today.” Garrett kissed the top of Chase’s head and snuggled against him. “I told Jess I did so she’d quit worrying about what I would do the moment she stopped watching me. But I never really—God, it feels so good to believe that. Your brother—Tom, he loved you. He would be okay with it if you believed it too.”
They lay quietly in each other’s arms for a long time. Eventually Chase realized that Garrett must have physically moved him all the way onto the bed at some point while he was sleeping. Impressive, because he’d kept gaining weight since quitting the pedicab job. Thinking about that was only a diversion, though, and he knew it.
More than once Chase started to speak but stopped. He wanted to believe Garrett—it felt like a betrayal of some kind to reject his idea out of hand, so Chase thought about it. He didn’t quite get to the place Garrett seemed to be, but he realized part of that might be a new shade of guilt.
“I’m sorry you had to be there for that.”
“It’s okay. As long as my being there didn’t make it worse for you. Did he have a problem when you first came out?”
“No. He never saw anything wrong with me being gay—he got to play the good dad in public, collect his ally cookies in town by calling folks out for talking shit. It was the stupid he hated.”
“Hey. You’re not stupid.” Garrett kissed Chase’s hair and squeezed his arms around him. “It was hard not to step in today, but you didn’t need my help. In a twisted way, I’m glad I was there.”
“Huh?”
“You needed to do that, to stand up to him. I’m glad I was there to have your back.”
“And pick up the pieces.”
“That too. I love your pieces.”
It shocked Chase when he laughed. Muted and still wet-sounding though it was, the laughter felt good. “Thank you.”
“You’d do the same.” In a much smaller voice Garrett said, “You have.”
“I’d do anything for your pieces.”
“We’re so adorkable.” Garrett seemed to be holding his breath, and a moment later Chase learned why. “We should get married.”
“What? Why?”
“Then I can’t just leave. Take advantage of my more conventional leanings.”
“Are you asking?”
“No. But I probably would. Sometime. If I knew the answer would be yes.”
“How?”
“On the beach.”
Chase shivered. He’d thought he wanted to know how Garrett would propose—would it be moonlight-and-candles romantic, or would he pin Chase to the bed while they were nude and make it not a question? But he wanted more than that, needed some assurance that he hadn’t blown it by being too honest. “Let’s do it now.”
“What? Now?”
“Yes. I need you.”
“You have me. But we’re not doing that.” Garrett squeezed Chase in his arms, and that almost dispelled the sinking feeling his words generated. “I don’t want you thinking of this day—of your dad and all the terrible shit he’s said to you—every year on our anniversary.”
In the next moment Chase felt sick, his throat closed off, and sweat broke out all over his body. He tried not to shiver but failed.
“Chase? Are you okay?”
He nodded because he couldn’t say no. Couldn’t open his mouth for fear what he really felt would come out—I don’t want to get married.
But there it was. He didn’t. And he couldn’t explain it to himself, so he was very glad when Garrett let the whole subject drop.
Chapter Eighteen
TO SAY Garrett was relieved when Jess finally made it to the condo would have been an understatement. He’d been afraid the address intimidated her, or something equally ridiculous, and she would never show. He’d been in the den working on his not-so-secret project—which he and Chase still hadn’t discussed—when he got her text, and called immediately so she wouldn’t have a chance to wiggle out of it. The whole thing was selfish—maybe the most selfish of all the self-absorbed things he’d ever done in his life, which was really saying something. No denying the truth. He knew it, Chase knew it, and Jess knew it. But either of them could have said no, could still say no, even though the thought made his stomach lurch.
What will I do if they don’t want to share this condo? Can I keep my promise and stay?
Jess interrupted his worrying with a text, and he sent her the code for the security keypad. It was fairly new, so not many people had the code, and since he had her key, it was only fair. He’d texted Chase when he’d first heard from Jess but still hadn’t gotten an answer. Chase had been gone when he woke that morning and a quick text—Back in time for dinner—was all he’d heard from him all day. That wasn’t completely random; it sounded like Chase had a job. As long as he’s not driving a damned pedicab again….
Maybe he’d rented a truck and was making the rounds delivering canvases to the businesses where they would hang until someone bought them. Chase hated to drive but had never had an accident in the city, so Garrett told himself to stop worrying before he wound himself up for nothing.
By the time Jess made it, he’d worked himself up to pacing the condo. She noticed as soon as she came in, before he could even offer her a drink or invite her to sit.
“What’s going on? Why are you breathing hard, like you just worked out?”
“Jess…. Nothing. I’m—well, I was pacing.”
“Let’s have a seat and you can tell me why. Where’s Chase?”
“I don’t know.” Garrett left her standing at the end of the short hallway between the front door and the living room and ducked into the kitchen.
Of course Jess followed on his heels. “Ah, I see.”
“No, you don’t see.” Garrett schooled his expression and turned to her, working to channel Nathan’s host mode. “Want a beer? Espresso? Water?”
“Espresso? You have a machine?”
“Yes.” Garrett showed her and thought she made up her mind right then to move in. The old copper machine looked like a steampunk wet dream with most of the working parts in plain view either on the machine’s exterior or behind a plate of glass. It brewed two cups at once. Garrett had been surprised when Paulie didn’t take it with him to the coast. It probably wouldn’t fit in his tiny house.
They took coffees into the living room, and Garrett texted Chase again.
This time he got an answer: Coming home now.
Jess held up half a joint and asked, “Okay?”
“Sure.” Garrett wished he knew where Chase was so he would know how long it would be until he arrived. Garrett wasn’t sure how the joint would go over. I’m probably worrying for nothing.
Chase came in and tried to go straight through the condo and back to the bedroom, barely slowing down to say hello. He pretended not to see the joint at all, even after Jess asked if he wanted to join them. Jess looked surprised, and a little guilty, but didn’t say anything.
Garrett stood to follow Chase and barely remembered to acknowledge he was leaving Jess on the couch. “I’ll be right back.”
She looked skeptical but pulled a familiar container from her bag and sat back, sipping her coffee.
Garrett was surprised to find Chase standing in front of his easel, still fully dressed, looking at his latest painting.
“Hey. Come out and join us.”
Chase shook his head, still looking at the canvas, but he didn’t really seem to be saying he wouldn’t be having dinner with them.
“Is it okay if we smoke here?”
“Um, yeah.” His smile was sad, and Garrett felt like he had to be more stoned than he was—which was practically not at all—if he didn’t know why. “Go ahead.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s okay. Go back to Jess. I’ll be out soon.”
“No. I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong. This is one of those things we need to talk about. I told you about the adorable thing.” Garrett waited, and when Chase didn’t move or speak he tried again. “Where did you go so early this morning?”
Chase didn’t answer, but Garrett thought he was working up to something, so he waited. Until he really looked at Chase’s rumpled clothes—his shirt looked like he’d tossed it in a corner and barely shaken it out before putting it back on. He took Chase’s hand and inspected it: paint. “You have paint on your fingers. Were you working?”
“It’s nothing. I need a shower. I’ll be out after I get cleaned up, and we can eat with Jess.”
“Not if you don’t tell me where you were.”
“That’s rich.”
Garrett knew he deserved that, and thought Chase felt bad about saying it, but it still hurt. “You look guilty.”
“So do you when you come home.”
“Really? You won’t tell me where you were?” Garrett tried to catch Chase’s eye, but he wouldn’t let him.
“You never do.”
“You’ve never asked either.”
Chase looked away from the canvas—finally—and Garrett watched as he took a slow, deep breath. “I was painting. A mural. With Colossal.”
Garrett couldn’t help it; he stood there with his mouth hanging open. He wasn’t sure if he was hurt or angry or what, but he didn’t trust himself to speak. Colossal was the mural company he’d signed on with for a job. The job he ran away from after Chase found him up on the scaffolding and freaked.
“It’s just a job.” Chase sighed. He obviously didn’t believe that any more than Garrett did.
“The job I botched.”
“No. The job I botched for you. I tried to follow you when you left, but the other guys wouldn’t let me. They—”
“What?”
“After the way I was yelling and how scared you were, I didn’t blame them. It wasn’t until I told them why I freaked so hard that they believed I wasn’t an abusive boyfriend trying to control you. Or some kind of stalker. And then I finished the job.”
“You never said.”
“It’s not a full-time gig or anything. They didn’t call me again until yesterday.”
Garrett spent a moment just breathing. Well, breathing and trying not to feel like an idiot. He reached out and took Chase’s hand again, rubbing gently at a dab of white paint on his thumb. They both moved in at the same time and kissed lightly, softly, but not quite tentatively.
“I’m sorry,” Chase whispered. “I’m in a bad mood. I need a shower. I’ll come out nicer than I’m going in.”
“Go ahead. We’ll call and have something delivered for dinner. When you come out, tell Jess you’re not mad about the smoke?”
“The what? I didn’t even notice.” Chase stepped closer, and Garrett knew he wanted to make it up to him. The job itself probably made Chase feel like shit, like a sellout, which explained his short temper and overall evasiveness—notable even for him. Chase kissed him again and then pulled him close and kissed his neck, close to the spot.
Garrett laughed and pulled away gently. “No, don’t do that. Jess is in the living room, and we’re going to have dinner.”
Chase groaned, but when he moved away, he was smiling. “Okay. I’m trying here.”
“Trying what?”
“I’ll have to get used to sharing you. That’s all.”
“No, you won’t. You and me—us—that’ll always come first. Now—if we all agree—Jess will get her time here and not in Northeast. It’ll work out, you’ll see.”
“Like I said, I’m trying.”
“There’s more, I can see that. But you don’t have to say it all right now. As long as we’re good.”
“We’re good.” Chase kissed him again and then groaned softly. “Save me some?”
Obviously he meant the joint, or maybe he planned on taking a very long shower and meant dinner. Either way, Garrett nodded and then bopped back to the living room, relieved that things hadn’t gone further down the shit-hole than they had. He plopped down onto the couch beside Jess, snatched a piece of the cookie from her hand, and popped it into his mouth.
“You’re so adorkable,” she said.
Garrett groaned and sank lower in his seat. “I shouldn’t have told you about that.”
“Right?” She sipped her coffee and sighed happily. “You love being adorkable. Don’t try and kid me. And you wanted the gold star for talking about something important. You don’t have to tell me, I can see that’s what you just did. I have more, y’know. An unlimited supply of gold stars.”
She kissed the side of his head and then changed the subject to food. They ordered some Chinese food—not Garrett’s favorite, but Frank’s didn’t deliver, and he didn’t want anyone to leave the condo until they’d sat at the same table to “see how it felt,” as Jess put it.
It felt pretty darned good, even when Jess dropped a bomb in the middle of the table.
Someone like Paulie—host and chef extraordinaire—you’d expect him to have a large, maybe even fancy, dining table. But in a corner of the condo’s spacious kitchen sat a kitschy oval aluminum table with a red laminate top. The four vinyl-covered chairs surrounding it were the kind you’d expect to find sitting around it in the fifties, but all in different colors. Garrett sat in his favorite green chair and put on his happiest face. Chase sat beside him—on the blue chair, his normal spot—and Jess took the red chair directly across from him. Outside of arm’s reach.
Nobody ever wants the poor yellow chair.
Garrett knew he was playing dumb, childish games, but he was desperate for this dinner to go perfectly. He wanted Chase and Jess to want to share the condo, to honestly like each other and not only do it for him. Because he was fairly certain they’d both do it for him even if they weren’t thrilled with the idea on its own merit.
All of which can only really happen without my interference.
“I’m seeing someone, so it’ll have to be okay if they come over.” She didn’t look up from her plate, and her tone was faux-casual.
Chase must have felt the tension coming from them both. He jumped right in to answer. “Of course it is. Have anyone over you want. It’s your home too.”
Jess peeked at them both in turn, and Chase swung his attention to his food. Garrett wasn’t as subtle. He openly stared at Jess, silently daring her to name her “someone.” His pride that he hadn’t jumped to the conclusion that it was Cleo—and made the mistake of saying Cleo
would never be welcome in his home after treating Jess more like a bank and a hotel than as a girlfriend—barely covered his shame and guilt that he was being openly territorial in front of Chase.
Finally Jess turned to him and put her fork down. “Well?”
Garrett shrugged and turned back to his dinner.
“Speak now or forever hold your peace, Frisch.”
He took a slow, deep breath, put down his chopsticks, dabbed the corner of his mouth with his napkin, and then looked up at Jess. “What Chase said.”
“Even if it’s Cleo?” She raised one eyebrow, and Garrett had to fight not to laugh out loud. When they were kids, she had honed her “Mr. Spock expression,” and being stoned made it hard to be mad at her even without the eyebrow action.
“Even if it’s Cleo.” Garrett let himself smile. “But if she… treats you like shit again, I won’t stand for it. Fair warning.” The last two words came out as flippant as he’d hoped, so he grabbed his chopsticks from the table and, with a silly flourish, dug back into his plate of noodles.
Jess chuckled softly and finally said, “Deal.”
Chase let a few moments go by and then asked, “So, when do you move in?”
They shared a smile around the table, and Jess said she’d give notice on her apartment the next day, but she seemed tense. When Garrett tried to catch her eye and failed, he knew something was up. He replayed the last few minutes of their conversation in his mind and pictured Jess’s grin. It hadn’t been as cocky as she’d tried for. Something about that told Garrett it might be a dude. He studied her as she finished her noodles and—yes, she was squirming.
It’s a guy. She’s seeing a guy.
She obviously had no plans to share details at the moment. Which, of course, made Garrett’s curiosity spike out of control. He spent the rest of the evening trying to decide if he hoped the guy was straight or bi, and decided he’d just have to trust that Jess wouldn’t bring anyone around who couldn’t handle him and Chase together.
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