I’m probably dead wrong about this one.
After I listened to Tony screaming on the phone at clients all day, I had my doubts he’d have good enough spirits for us to have a proper date in the evening. My interview had gone well too. I had a feeling I’d get the job, and I was in one hell of a mood to celebrate.
Red wine. His mama promising to stay out of the way. And steak that he planned to cook. All the makings of a perfect “I almost got a job” date night. Thank goodness his mom brought food when she came over to announce her awful “you’ve been exposed to a potentially deadly disease” news. I liked Tony’s mom. She reminded me of my mother in all the right ways: overbearing, judgmental, and fucking amazing in the kitchen. My parents were still stuck in Indian until the lockdown ended over there. Ouch.
“Okay. What episode of Barefoot Contessa is this?” Tony grumbled in mock rage as he settled onto the couch with red wine and plates of medium rare steak.
“Ew, you only watch Barefoot Contessa when you’re starving. It’s the perfect form of torture.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re a complete weirdo?”
“Uh huh. But they also used to call me slurs, so I try to take it with a grain of salt.”
Tony set down his knife.
“That happened to you?”
“Um, I told you what happened to me in high school. Yeah, it happened. That wasn’t the worst of it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Whatever, I don’t want to go into my traumatic past for the moment. I want to have a good night.”
“Great. So no cooking shows, no Project Runway, what do you have in mind?”
“Welcome, to the magical world of British television.”
“Oh my God…”
“Tonight’s episode of Sherlock, will blow your fucking mind.”
“Sherlock Holmes?!”
“Tony… Either you be quiet, or you find something better to watch. There’s no sport ball on TV since we’re in the middle of a pandemic and I won’t sit here and watch… wait, what do gay Southern men watch.”
“Shut up and put on the damn show.”
“You love me…”
“Yeah. I do.”
He threw his arm around me, and I nestled into him. The first episode of Sherlock was amazing, but I fell asleep about halfway in. That’s the problem with re-runs, you lose the suspense. I woke up to the middle of the second episode and footsteps in the kitchen. Tony still had his arm around me and I didn’t bother opening my eyes. Resting against his muscular chest was warm. He smelled like home and I didn’t want to open my eyes and risk seeing his mother in a thong or something.
Hey, it may seem like a stretch, but you never know. Wait. She wasn’t alone.
“You can’t come in here. We are under a government-mandated quarantine.”
She’d flung the window open. I could tell from the draft that slipped through the sleeves of my tank. Who the hell was she talking to. I pushed hair away from my ear so I could hear her better. Oh. I recognized that voice.
Kylie.
“You’re his mother, right? Do you know what your son Tony is up to? He’s a hooker. He’s an escort. He’s a porn star. And he’s GAY!”
“Excuse me, young lady, if you don’t get off my doorstep, I’ll have you know, I’m armed.”
“Um, we’re in Boston, Karen. You can’t have guns here.”
“And I drove over here from Texas, and I do what the hell I want. So if you want to try me, take one step closer to this window and find out just how far I’ll go to protect my boy.”
“What the fuck! I’m taking this to Mr. Stone. Tony will lose his job.”
“Well, young lady, I am Mrs. Stone and if you worked for my husband’s company, I can assure you of one thing, you will not be working for him any longer. So you take your whore heels and your fake hair and you skedaddle. Because believe me, bitch, I will break this quarantine to beat your ass if you say one more word about my son.”
This was the sort of scene that Peter would scream “OH GIRL!” if he saw it go down. I didn’t want to risk opening my eyes, lest Mrs. Stone turn down her tough girl talk at the sight of someone she felt she ought to speak properly to. Mrs. Stone slammed the window shut, so Kylie must have sauntered off.
She stopped over the couch. I felt her weight press into the back of the couch as she stared down at us. Tony, snoring and me pretending to sleep. She whispered to herself, “Nothing could change how much I love you, Tony.”
And she walked away. That was it. She might be rude to me in the morning and make snippy comments about my nails, my hair or the fact that I dressed like a mall goth. But she loved Tony, and like me, she wanted to protect him.
When I woke up in the morning, my back hurt like hell. Mrs. Stone was already cooking in the kitchen and Tony was still fast asleep. As soon as I moved, I woke him up.
“Hey,” he murmured, in a raspy, sleepy voice. I kissed him again.
“Hey.”
“Oh, shit… Mama’s cooking breakfast again.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry she gave you shit about your nails yesterday.”
“That’s okay. I don’t think she minds us.”
“Really? Aren’t you going to give me a speech about the homophobic South?”
“I’ll save it for dinner.”
Tony groaned in mock outrage and grabbed me to kiss me hard on the lips. I didn’t even mind his morning breath. His overnight musk turned me on as he ran his fingers through my hair and I realized... I really was in love.
“You two knock it off,” his mother yelled at us, “the pancakes are almost ready.”
39
TONY STONE
Two painful weeks of sneaking around my mama so we could have sex. We found out my dad was better and on the day after our quarantine ended; he wanted to come to my apartment. I was freaking out.
“I don’t see what the enormous deal is,” Max said, lying on my bed shirtless as he tossed an old baseball up and down.
I tried not to let him know the irritating habit was getting to me.
“It’s an enormous deal because he’s my dad and he had a fuckin’ heart attack when he found out about me.”
“I don’t think you can blame yourself for that.”
“I can blame myself and I don’t need you telling me what I can and can’t do.”
“Chill, Tony.”
“I can’t fuckin' chill! He could fire me and tell me to fuck right off.”
“Your dad won’t fire you. It’s 2020. People are gay now.”
I gave Max a knowing look.
“How much time until he gets here?”
“I don’t know. My mom went to get him from the hospital.”
“Great. So we have like… twenty minutes. Let’s rehearse what you’re going to say to him.”
Rehearsing didn’t help. I sweat through two shirts before my parents pulled up at the apartment again. Max peered out the window.
“Jesus. Your dad is hot.”
“Can you shut up?” I grumbled.
“He looks like you but all silver fox. Phew! He’s a zaddy! Let me take a picture to send Peter…”
“I’m going to break your neck.”
“You love me.”
Max took his picture through the window as my parents knocked on the apartment door. I opened the door and my father barged in without saying hello and wrapped his arms around me. My father had never been this affectionate before. His chest heaved as he held me and over his shoulder, I saw my mother reach for Max’s hand.
“I’m sorry, Anthony,” my father said, “I’m sorry.”
Okay. Not the reaction I expected. Not even close.
“We need to talk privately.”
He grunted and gave a nod toward Max. Not comfortable, but not a rejection either. I could handle that. I followed my dad into my bedroom. He sat at my desk and I sat at the foot of my bed.
“How you doing dad?”
�
�I’m not here to get emotional.”
“Right.”
“We come from tough stock, boy. Nothing to worry about. But I’m shutting down the office in Boston, heading back out West to open a new office in Wyoming. Great state, Wyoming, and I’m looking at buying a new ranch out there. But I need someone to head the office.”
“I hope you find someone.”
“I’m looking at you to head the office.”
“Me?”
“You’ve done okay out here working with Jerry, but he won’t move. You will.”
“Dad…”
“The office shuts down. So either you move out West, or you’re on your own. Understand?”
“I need time to think about it.”
“Very well. Your mother and I need to get rest.”
“That’s it.”
My dad thumped me on the back.
“You’re a good boy. Whatever you get up to is your business. But if you need time away from it, Wyoming’s a good place to start over.”
“Yeah. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
My dad grunted and then he left, tipping his hat to Max on the way out. My mom gave me a hug goodbye, squeezing me so tightly, her necklace nearly cut my chest.
“That went well, right?” Max asked once we were alone again.
“My dad wants me to move out to Wyoming.”
“What?”
“He’s shutting down the Boston office, and he wants me to head the office in Wyoming.”
“That’s random.”
“My dad’s always been a fan of the West and we handle all our client stuff over the phone or computer. He opened the Boston office when he traveled more to the East Coast. I guess this has been coming a long time.”
“Wow. Wyoming. I guess you’ve always had a thing for cowboys, huh?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“This thing between us… it’s ending.”
“I never said that.”
“Come on, Tony. Your parents might smile in my face, but I know how they really feel about us. This is totally a ploy to separate you from the big bad wolf.”
“My dad offered me a job. This isn’t about some homophobic plot. Geez. How do you get off being so paranoid?”
“I’m not paranoid. I’m realistic. You go to Wyoming and we’re over.”
“Can you stop this emotional carrying on? I never said I was going.”
“But you are. I’m moving out and I’m staying here. I can’t go somewhere in the countryside where there aren’t any gay bars or people like me. I can’t leave my friends or my sister.”
“I’m not asking you to do that.”
“Exactly.”
“I need time to think. I haven’t made a choice yet.”
“Whatever.”
“Don’t ‘whatever’ me.”
“Fine. But I see what’s happening. This was a quarantine fling and now that we aren’t trapped in the same house together, we’re going to go our separate ways like we planned to all along.”
Fuck. He made me so fucking angry.
“Don’t say that,” I huffed.
“It’s true.”
“Fuck…”
I grabbed him and kissed him hard, but he didn’t kiss me back. He let me kiss him, let my lips meet his, but he remained motionless.
“Max…”
“I’m sorry,” he said, “But I know you’ll leave. Because if you planned on staying, you wouldn’t have to give it a second thought.”
He disappeared into his bedroom, slamming the door. Fuck.
40
MAX PATEL
Why do I always lash out with guys? Why do I do everything in my power to assume the worst and push them away? I needed to talk to someone. Not Tony.
Me: I’m out of quarantine.
Peter: Lucky.
Me: Tested negative this morning. So did Tony and his mom.
Peter: Party time?
Me: Need to talk. Can you come over?
Peter: Tomorrow. But we have to talk outside. Sorry, paranoid.
Me: Gotcha. I’ll bring beer.
Peter: Dope.
Tony avoided me for the rest of the night. In the morning, Peter came over after breakfast.
“It’s called brunch. You can drink at brunch,” he assured me as we sat on the apartment patio six feet apart.
“Cheers.”
We raised our beer bottles and Peter chugged nearly half of his.
“So. We’re talking. Where’s the Texan?”
“Working. His job here’s moving to Wyoming.”
“Is he moving too?”
“I don’t know.”
“Ouch. Well, if you get lonely, you can always hang out with me. I’ve been re-watching Naruto.”
I smiled. Peter was sweet. He deserved someone nice.
“Dating anyone?”
“No. This quarantine has everyone talking reckless on the apps, but when it comes down to hang and bang, nobody has the balls to do it.”
“Ouch.”
“At least you got quarantined with a hunk.”
“Two weeks longer than everyone else.”
“So… what are you two going to do about Wyoming?”
“I don’t know. He will leave. I know it. And I don’t want him to.”
“Ask him to stay.”
Had Peter picked up a drug habit? I couldn’t ask Tony to stay.
“I don’t want to sound desperate,” I argued.
“He said the words, right?”
“Ew, you make it sound so corny.”
“He loves you! Come on, he probably wants you to ask.”
“His parents don’t want him to be gay, so they’re putting him up to this, I know it.”
Peter laughed.
“What the hell is so funny?” I grumbled.
“His parents are conservatives from Texas. No shit, they don’t want him to be gay. But they don’t have a choice. Believe they want what’s best for him. But Tony makes his own choices. He’s a grown man.”
Peter finished his beer, but I wasn’t close to done with mine. He gave me a lot to think about.
“When this is over, I’m going to find the nearest six-foot-tall Dubai daddy and climb him like a tree,” Peter mused wistfully.
“You are crazy.”
Peter and I hung out more, talking about quarantine, all the craziness with Tony’s mom and Peter’s latest Twitter drama with one of his various “stalkers”.
“The guy found my MySpace and started photoshopping pics of me… it was totally weird.”
Peter entertained me with his social-media-famous drama before he had to go home.
“I have a meeting with this guy who will mentor me so I can go into dance. Talk to him. I know you are like, not expressive at all, but dudes are like that. Tony loves you. He cares about you. And that means something.”
I hoped he was right. As Peter walked down the street, he sang Aretha Franklin and a woman walking her dog smiled at him. I was always so fucking jealous of those people who could be effortlessly happy. I had to work at it so damn hard.
And now that I was happy, I was letting it slip through my fingers. I hurried inside to find Tony sitting at the kitchen counter, red-faced and scowling at me.
“You move on fast,” Tony grumbled.
“That was Peter. And I didn’t move on. We were talking.”
“Okay.”
“You’re not jealous. I’m allowed to have friends.”
“I’m not jealous.”
He totally was. I knew Tony well enough to tell by now.
“Whatever.”
“I’m not fucking jealous. But you could at least act subtle while you line up your next hook up.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“You were so fucking quick to assume I was moving to Wyoming. I finally understand why.”
“Um… enlighten me.”
“You want me out of here. All of this was just… a game.”
> “Fuck you, Tony.”
“Fuck me? No, fuck you!”
We stared at each other for a few seconds and then burst into laughter. I covered my hand with my mouth and then pushed hair out of my face.
“Okay. That was stupid.”
“Yeah.”
“I want you to stay,” I confessed.
“Do you mean it?”
“Yes. Fuck being friends. Fuck lying about our feelings. You stay in Boston. We move somewhere else together. I’ll get a job and you get a job and we stand on our own two feet. I want you to stay. Like… really fucking bad.”
Tony grinned.
“I was sitting here because I wanted to tell you… I spoke to my dad and turned down going to Wyoming. He wanted to give me a gift, $15,000 to get started out here.”
“Holy shit?! $15,000?!”
“Please… it’s embarrassing when you make a big deal out of money like that,” Tony grumbled.
“Okay, Mister Moneybags. Some of us don’t have access to fifteen thousand fucking dollars!”
“So, it’s final then?”
“Yes.”
Tony got up and kissed me. Fuck, he smelled good. And I kissed him back, grabbing his cheeks and running my fingers along his stubble. I never wanted to stop kissing him. I never planned on it.
“One last thing,” Tony whispered, “I want to make sure you know who you belong to. You’re mine… my boyfriend.”
My heart quickened. I was stepping into a whole new category of dating. The promise of exclusivity. The promise of a life together. All those silly dreams that seemed so impossible for me. They could happen. A genuine relationship.
“Do you mean that?”
“Yes. I mean that. I love you, Max.”
“I love you, too.”
“Good.”
41
TONY STONE
“Max, damn it! Did you spill nail polish on the sink?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Tony!”
“It’s all over the fuckin’ sink.”
Max walked into the bathroom, shirtless, a fresh tattoo still red on his chest.
Quarantined With My Straight Roommate Page 16