by Alexa Land
“Brian admitted he lashed out the first time he met you because he hated you for taking his brother away from him.” I waved my hand and added, “Not that that excuses him from calling his brother names, or any of that hateful shit.”
“He actually told you that?”
“Yeah.”
“Wow. In addition to never thinking he’d kiss a guy, I also didn’t believe he was capable of talking about his feelings. He just always seemed so angry and closed off.”
“He’s not always angry.” I grinned a little. “He said he was happier because I was around.”
“Oh wow,” Christopher exclaimed. “You actually like him.”
“No, I don’t.” I thought about that for a moment, and amended, “Okay, kind of. But not like, a lot.”
“Did you kiss him because you’d had too much to drink?”
“No. I was tipsy, but not drunk. I knew what I was doing.”
“So, you must be attracted to him.”
I mulled that over before saying, “I guess I am drawn to him on some level. There’s something kind of appealing about Brian.”
“If you say so.”
Kieran came out of the bedroom then, wearing only a towel. He was bent forward slightly, a sure sign that his back was still bothering him. “Oh hey, Hunter, I didn’t know you were here,” he said amiably, and I gave him a little wave and a smile. I also tried like hell to maintain eye contact, even though I was tempted to let my gaze drift down to his killer abs. To Christopher he said, “Did you already invite him to brunch with us at Jamie and Dmitri’s place?”
“I was just about to,” Christopher said. “I got sidetracked when Hunter told me he and your brother locked lips last night.”
Kieran stared at me for a long moment, then turned and headed to the bedroom. “I need to cut back on the pain meds,” he muttered. “I’m starting to hallucinate. I could have sworn you said Hunter and Brian kissed.”
Christopher stood up and patted my shoulder. “Make yourself comfortable, I’m going to go give Kieran a hand and then take a quick shower. And if you don’t have any place you need to be, I want you to come to brunch with us. We’re expected there in about half an hour.”
“Is Kieran up for that?”
“He says he is, but I’m still going to make sure he takes it easy. I’ll drive us there, then all he has to do is find a comfy chair and relax.”
“I shouldn’t crash your family function.”
“Sure you should. You know how Jamie’s get-togethers are, everyone’s welcome. There’ll be a million people, way too much food, and general chaos, just like the night I met you. It’ll be great.”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll be your third wheel.”
“Good.” Christopher kissed my forehead before heading to the bedroom.
The word ‘brunch’ was kind of a stretch. What was happening on the rooftop of Jamie’s building could better be described as a ruckus. Kids and dogs were running around, loud music was playing, people were dancing, and alcohol was flowing in abundance.
Jamie’s husband Dmitri welcomed us with hugs all around. Someone had brought a big recliner up on the roof by way of the freight elevator, and had roped it off with Kieran’s name on it so the injured Nolan could enjoy the party, too. Kieran settled in happily, and Christopher curled up on his lap. Oh yeah, third-wheel mode was now fully engaged.
I stuck a smile on my face and said, “I’m going to mingle. See you in a bit,” and worked my way into the crowd.
Being a gay porn star was the world’s most effective form of ‘gaydar.’ It always took only a moment to determine a guy’s sexual orientation, based on his reaction to me. The straight ones looked at me blankly, and the gay ones lit up like fireworks. A couple of the latter variety went into full Roman candle mode as I made my way through the crowd, one of them loudly exclaiming, “Oh mah gawd, it’s Hunter Storm! Somebody pinch me!” I gave him a friendly smile and kept going.
Well okay, no, I wasn’t so well-known that every gay guy lit up at the sight of me. But it sometimes felt that way. Often, my little ego found it flattering. On days like today, though, when I’d rather blend into the crowd, it was kind of a pain.
Jamie and I crossed paths halfway across the rooftop. He was carrying three cases of wine, which looked really heavy, but he still paused to smile and say, “It’s nice to see you again, Hunter, I’m glad you came.”
“Thanks for letting me crash your shindig.”
“Any time, you’re always welcome. By the way, there’s a big buffet set up downstairs in our apartment, please help yourself. Brunch was supposed to be in there, but somehow, it spilled out onto the roof.”
He started to lose his grip on the boxes and I tried to lunge for them, but a big, hunky brunet swooped in and lifted the teetering top two crates off the pile. “Crisis averted,” Charlie Connolly said with a grin. He was Jamie’s ex-boyfriend, and also my best friend’s best friend. I tried not to resent him too much for that last part.
“Awesome timing!” Jamie exclaimed.
“Well, my good deed’s done for the day,” Charlie said cheerfully. He leaned in and gave his ex a kiss on the cheek before saying, “And hi, Jamie. You know, only in the Nolan universe would this free-for-all be called brunch.” He turned his perfect smile on me then and said, “Hi Hunter, good to see you.”
“You too.”
I excused myself after a minute of polite small-talk and left the two of them to catch up. Food seemed like a decent idea, so I headed in that direction. Down in the apartment, the noise from the party was still audible but muffled, and the space was almost empty, with only a couple people at the buffet. This suited my mood a lot better than the gala on the roof.
Feeling a bit nosy, I swung to the left when I entered the apartment instead of heading straight ahead to the food, cutting through the living room. I had to grin when I took a look at the furnishings, which were such a perfect blend of Jamie and Dimitri’s individual styles. A few sleek, modern pieces (Dmitri’s influence, no doubt), shared space with some quirky details, like a river of vintage surfboards suspended from the high ceiling (that was pure Jamie). The whole thing came together in wonderful harmony somehow.
As I reached their fireplace mantel, I just had to pause. It was crammed full of photos in a mishmash of frame styles. Both men had huge families, and I was pretty sure every single relative was represented in these pictures. There were plenty of photos of friends as well, and I recognized a few familiar faces.
A picture of Jamie and Charlie caught my attention, and I picked it up and looked at it closely. In the photo, the two of them were flanked by their husbands, the foursome all laughter and smiles. It made me a little sad, somehow. I’d watched Jamie and Charlie together on a couple occasions, and had heard their story from Christopher. Apparently, I was the only one who found it really bittersweet.
The two had been each other’s first loves, together for something like eight years, beginning in high school. Sometime last year, Charlie had panicked and fled the relationship. He’d been afraid to come out, especially to his parents, and tried briefly to live a straight lifestyle. By the time he’d realized what a terrible mistake he’d made, it was too late. Jamie had moved on, meeting and falling madly in love with Dmitri.
Charlie’s story ultimately had a happy ending as well. He’d met and married a gorgeous man named Dante, and the two were obviously deeply in love. I should be happy for all involved. But somehow, I couldn’t help but think, what if? What if things had gone slightly differently? What if Charlie had talked about his fears, instead of running from them? Would he and Jamie have gotten their happily ever after? From everything I’d heard, the love between them had been the real thing. Maybe it could have worked out between those two, if only life had taken a couple different turns.
Did that mean they’d ended up with the wrong men? Hell no. Both couples were wonderful together, the love between them so obviously strong and true and totally perfect. So maybe that m
eant there wasn’t just one perfect person out there for us. I always heard people talking about finding your ‘one true love,’ but maybe that wasn’t the way the universe worked. Maybe it was really all about second chances, and starting over.
I hoped that was true. When Cole and I first got together, I’d honestly (and naïvely) believed he was the only one for me, and that we’d be together forever. And when I ended our relationship, I felt like I was walking away from my one and only chance at happiness.
Despite loving him, I’d ended our relationship because of one huge flaw: the total inability to talk about anything serious without it turning into a giant argument. God did we argue, day after day after day, for three years. And it had to stop. It just had to. I couldn’t keep living like that. So finally, when I was offered a way out, I took it. I’d still been in love with Cole when I left our relationship, but I knew it had to end. It had taken me a solid year to get over him, and there was a scar on my heart (a self-inflicted one, I understood that) which might never actually heal.
He’d loved me too, which made my leaving unforgivable as far as Cole was concerned. I’d tried to talk to him a couple times after I left, wanting to apologize for the abrupt way I’d ended it. But of course, instead of talking we fought, same as always.
It had been a while since I’d last seen him. But from what I’d heard, Cole was still really hurt, and my guilt was sharp as ever.
I returned the photo to the mantel, cut through the remainder of the spacious living room and stepped into a wide, arched doorway. There was only one person at the buffet now, and as I watched, he looked around, though not in my direction, then quickly wrapped two cookies in a napkin and stuck them in the pocket of his cardigan.
It was obvious from the way he carried himself that this wasn’t an act of greed, it was one of desperation. I stepped back so that I was partly concealed by the doorframe, and watched him for a moment. He was young, maybe nineteen or twenty, and thin, with pale skin and dark hair that hung into his face. His clothes were clean but threadbare, the sweater stitched up in a couple places, his ancient sneakers about to fall apart.
My heart went out to him. He was eating quickly now, as if this was his first meal in days, picking up morsels with his long, delicate hands and bringing them to his lips. He kept looking down the hall to his right, almost directly across from me, as if he was waiting for someone, or maybe just waiting to get caught stuffing his face.
I made a decision and pulled out my wallet, quickly counting my cash. I separated out all the big bills, four twenties, and folded them into a little rectangle, then palmed them in my right hand. As quietly as possible, I hurried back the way I’d come, through the living room. I stuck my head around the corner and watched him for another moment. He was wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his expression guilty.
The guy didn’t notice me as I snuck out of the living room and cut across to the stairwell. I closed the door firmly so he’d know I was here, then started walking toward the buffet table. He glanced up at me, then looked down quickly. He was on the far side of the table, so I circled around, coming up right beside him and saying, “Hi. Some party, huh? It feels more like a wedding reception than brunch.” He smiled shyly and nodded, and I reached around him and grabbed an appetizer, steadying myself with a hand on his hip. I slipped the money into the pocket of his cardigan without him noticing. “What do you think this is?” I asked, holding up a little fried ball of something with two fingers.
“Um, I’m not sure what to call it, but it has some kind of fish inside,” he said, a blush instantly rising in his cheeks.
“Are we talking sushi, or mystery fish balls?”
He smiled and said, “The second thing.”
“Mystery fish balls?” His smile got a little bigger, and he nodded. “Well, damn,” I said. “I’ve already picked this up, but now I’m afraid to eat it.”
“I mean, it’s not, like, bad or anything. It’s just…unusual.”
“Really?” He nodded again. “Okay, here goes nothing.” I popped the appetizer in my mouth and bit down. Not only was it odd, it was also insanely spicy. “Oh my God,” I mumbled around the God-knows-what on my tongue, and looked around frantically. “Napkin!” I exclaimed, fanning my mouth with my hand (as if that would help).
The guy leapt into action, accidentally knocking the stack of napkins all over the floor in his haste. “Oh crap,” he exclaimed, and dove under the table to retrieve one for me. I dove under there with him and grabbed the napkin he offered me. I’d intended to spit out whatever the hell was in my mouth, but felt like an idiot doing that in front of this guy. So instead I forced myself to swallow it, then dabbed my watering eyes.
He looked mortified, but then I burst out laughing. After a moment, he started laughing, too, and dropped down so he was sitting cross-legged on the floor. When I caught my breath and wiped the tears from my eyes, I asked, “What’s your name?”
“Trevor Dean.”
“Well, Trevor Dean, you might have mentioned that I was about to eat a flaming fish ball from hell. Holy crap, that was so freaking hot.”
“It was?”
“Did you eat one?” He nodded, and I asked, “And you didn’t think it was too spicy?”
“The one I had wasn’t very hot.”
“Ugh, that was torture.”
“I’m sorry, I really didn’t know yours would be so spicy. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, just embarrassed,” I said. “I totally made a fool of myself.”
“No you didn’t. And I really feel bad. I should have told you not to eat it.”
“It’s not your fault. Well, unless you’re the caterer, and concocted the flaming fish balls. In which case, it’s totally your fault.” I flashed him a big smile.
Trevor smiled, too, then hesitantly reached up and ran his thumb over my cheek. It took me a moment to realize he’d brushed away a stray tear. “What’s your name?” he asked shyly.
“Hunter. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You too.”
“Are you a friend of Jamie’s or Dmitri’s?” I asked.
“Neither. I mean, I work for Jamie. I just started last week, as a busboy in the bar and grill downstairs. Actually, I’m here on a first date.”
I grinned at him and teased, “You brought a girl to your boss’s house for a first date?”
“Actually, um, I’m here with a guy, someone I met at work. He brought me.” He was watching me carefully from under his thick, dark lashes, probably waiting to see what I’d do with the revelation that he was gay.
“That’s one lucky guy,” I said, giving him a flirty smile to let him know I was more than fine with his sexual orientation. Trevor blushed yet again, lowering his head so his hair fell forward over his sky blue eyes. His bashfulness really was charming, and I started to consider hitting on him.
We heard footsteps, and he quickly scooped up the spilled napkins and got to his feet. “Oh, hi,” he said to whoever had just come into the room. I got up, too, and pushed my hair back from my face as Trevor said, “Hunter, this is my date. Cole, this is Hunter.”
Oh, of course. My ex-boyfriend and I locked eyes, his jaw clenched and his teeth grinding together.
“Is it not enough,” he said, his voice a low growl, “that you left me to go off and have sex with all of San Francisco, and get filmed while doing it? Did you really have to show up during my first date in two fucking years and hit on Trevor, too?”
“Oh, come on! I was hardly hitting on Trevor!” I mulled that over for a beat, then admitted, “Okay, I was thinking about it. But how was I supposed to know he was your date?”
“You just know instinctively, Hunter,” Cole snapped. “You’re somehow hardwired to ruin my life. There must be eighty people at this party, so of course you show up and zoom in on the one person here that means something to me!”
“That’s ridiculous, and also kind of paranoid.”
“Paranoid? I just caught yo
u blowing my date behind the buffet!”
“Blowing your date! I was picking up cocktail napkins, you ass!” I snatched a few napkins from Trevor’s hands and tossed them in the air to illustrate my point.
“Yeah, well, you also just admitted you were thinking about hitting on him.”
“Cole, I didn’t know he was your date!”
“But you knew he was someone’s date, right? He told you that, didn’t he?” I shrugged, and Cole exclaimed, “You’re such a slut, Hunter! You knew he was on a date, and you were still hitting on him! Absolutely nothing is sacred to you, is it?”
“I wasn’t really hitting on him, and this isn’t why you’re mad,” I said. “You’re still pissed at me for breaking up with you, even after all this time, and you’ll find any excuse to yell at me.”
“So…you two are ex-boyfriends?” Trevor asked, fidgeting awkwardly.
I turned to him and put my hand on his arm to reassure him as I said, “Yeah, and I’m so sorry to put you in the middle of this.”
“It’s okay.”
“Stop touching him!” Cole yelled. “Just get away from him, or so help me God, I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” I was getting mad now too, and stepped around the buffet table. My ex was three and a half inches taller than I was, but I still tried to get right in his face. A few people had begun to gather around, hearing the commotion, and they took a couple steps back as they watched our confrontation brewing. “What are you going to do? Beat me up for talking to a stranger at a party? Would that make you feel better, Cole?”
“It might!”
“Well, I’d like to see you try!”
All of a sudden, someone was right between us, pushing us apart. “Alright everyone, show’s over. Go find something to do,” this person said. Of course the crowd totally ignored that, a few more people gathering around us.
I looked down into Brian’s blue eyes. He was obviously amused, but was trying to look stern. “That’s enough now, Hunter. You need to calm down.”
“I’m perfectly calm! And by the way, I didn’t start this, he did!” I tried to step around the wheelchair so I could get in Cole’s face again, but Brian cut in front of me and pulled me onto his lap.