Fall Apart

by SE Culpepper

  “Thank you.”

  Alarik took in another breath of Max’s masculine scent and let the guilt drown him because he was craving touch so badly and the person holding him wasn’t Damon.

  “I’ve imagined holding you, Alarik, but not quite under these circumstances,” Max confessed softly. “Something tells me you might feel the same way.”

  “If you mean that this is dangerous—”

  “It’s only dangerous if you’re letting me hold you for the wrong reasons. Is this simply comfort, or is it more?”

  Alarik hesitated. “I don’t know, Max.”

  “So, for now, strictly comfort.”

  It could’ve been pressure from Max’s jaw, or even a quick kiss that touched Alarik’s temple, but it made a shiver skip down his side. “For now,” he answered, thinking of Damon with a pang in his chest.

  ***

  Damon made his way to his parents’ car, holding Davey’s tiny hand in his own. Neither of them were very sure-footed on the uneven ground of the cemetery and he was trying to navigate them in the direction of the paved walkway. The last thing he needed was to step wrong and twist his ankle. He already looked like a cartoon character that had an anvil dropped on him.

  Davey was very quiet beside him and Damon was able to step outside his own grief long enough to wonder how much his nephew understood about what he’d seen today.

  “Davey,” he said, squeezing the kid’s hand. “What’d your mom tell you about today?”

  Davey squinted up at him, one eye entirely shut. “It’s a sad day and I gotta be quiet and use my inside voice.”

  “Okay, but what’d she say about the rest?”

  “Uncle Todd went away. I guess to heaven.”

  Damon cleared his throat. Seashells, he thought suddenly, c’mon seashells; make me deaf again. “Yeah, Todd went away to heaven.”

  “Do you think you forget stuff in heaven?”

  Damon blinked away another stupid wave of emotion and focused on the cars leaving the cemetery one-by-one. “I think…” he paused and realized he’d never really thought about it—or about the afterlife in general. Deciding what happened after death had always seemed like a waste of time to him because it wasn’t like he could change anything at that point; he’d be dead, after all.

  “I think that in heaven you don’t remember pain and hurt the way you do when you’re here.”

  “But, will he ‘member me? Or you? Or grandma and grampa? Or mommy?”

  “I think he’ll remember us. Especially you,” Damon added. “Who could forget you?”

  Davey shrugged. “Still sad, huh?”

  Damon coughed a couple times and then regretted it as his ribs protested. “Yeah, kiddo. It’s still sad.”

  At his parents’ house, a group of people closest to Todd was gathered and Damon couldn’t wait for them to leave. He wanted nothing more than to be alone. He’d hidden himself in the kitchen at the small table his mom used for breakfast, and was staring at a box filled with sugar packets when Simone came in. Her eyes were red, her makeup smeared, and she looked like she was ready to escape, too. He lifted his glass of ice water in her direction and she quietly joined him at the table.

  “Hi.” Her smile was timid, but they’d only met in person once before.

  “Hey, thanks for coming today.” This was his practiced funeral response, but with her, he actually meant it.

  “Thanks for calling me.”

  They sat together for a few minutes, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Damon tuned in eventually and noticed she was casually stacking sugar packets. He grabbed a handful and began holding them out to her one at a time.

  “He was going to take you to dinner, Simone. He came across like he didn’t care sometimes, I know that about him, but he was really happy about you.”

  Simone’s hand stopped moving and trembled in mid-air before slowly taking the next packet he offered her. “I waited forever for him to ask me out. Never saw so many mixed signals in my entire life.”

  “He was conflicted,” Damon agreed.

  “He was an ass sometimes, too.” She smiled briefly.

  “Frustrating, for sure.”

  “Egotistical.”

  Damon shrugged. “He’d say that was only a natural by-product of being Todd.”

  Simone chuckled softly and accepted another sugar packet. “Maybe you’ve heard this a few times today, but you look like hell.”

  “I was aiming for that; I appreciate the honesty.”

  Simone cocked her head skeptically. “I can’t be the only one who’s mentioned this abstract display of bruises, the wrist with its shiny metal accessories, and your land speed of a less-than spry ninety-year-old.”

  Damon took another sip of his ice water. “You’d be the first, actually. Everyone else seems to think I look damn good.”

  “Well, the cracked lip is kind of dashing in a Rocky V kind of way.” She started another sugar packet stack and nervously met his eyes again. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Shoot.” Please don’t ask about the fall, he thought.

  “What…what do I do about his office? I mean, he didn’t keep a ton of stuff in there, but there are some pictures.”

  “I’ll come get it with my dad this week. What’s your real question?”

  Simone dropped back in her seat, giving up. “He liked me? Really?”

  Damon stared directly into her eyes as he answered so she would know he was telling the truth. “Yes. He did. He liked you a lot and you were the first woman he wanted to ask out since college. I can see why,” he murmured. “You’d have been good for him.”

  His wording must’ve given the wrong impression because she twitched in her seat, uncomfortable beneath his gaze.

  “Don’t take that the wrong way; I’m gay and I wouldn’t cruise my best friend’s girl anyway.”

  “Oh. Gay?” She was relieved and when he rolled his eyes at her, the smile returned. “How’s that working for you?”

  “I kinda suck at it—no pun intended.”

  Her laugh was warm and he tried to accept it for the solace it offered. “We should start a club for people who ‘suck at it.’”

  Damon grinned and held out his glass. Simone lifted her own and they clinked them together. “TWS—Those Who Suck Anonymous.”

  Simone stood and lightly squeezed his left hand. “How about we have our first meeting on Friday night? My date canceled—” Her voice broke and she couldn’t finish the joke, so Damon just tightened his hold on her hand for a second before he released her.

  “Pick me up here at seven? I can’t drive.”

  She kissed him on the cheek like she wasn’t sure she should, but decided to do it anyway. “I’ll be here.” In the doorway to the kitchen, she turned to him once more, her expression wistful. “I’m so mad he won’t be there.”

  Yeah, me too.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  It was thirty seconds to midnight and Mark was sitting in the kitchen, staring at his watch as the time ticked by. His right hand hovered over the “call” button on his phone and the exact second that the numbers switched over, he tapped it. It rang twice and then:

  “Ohhhhhh, you fucker! I got you this time. I waited up for you.” Reid was jubilant, as he always was when the center of attention.

  “Happy birthday, dude.”

  “Yeah, thanks. Sean should be calling any sec—oh, wait, there he is. I’ll conference him in.” There was a short pause before Sean’s voice came on the line.

  “Did I beat Mark?”

  “No way,” Mark answered. “Born first, but you’re always last.”

  “Sean!” Reid barked. “You forgot something.”

  “Happy birthday,” Sean offered blandly. “You’re lucky I remembered you at all, middle child.”

  “Gentlemen.” Reid paused to emphasize that his annual birthday speech was about to begin. “Now that I am the ripe old age of thirty-five, I have come up with an idea that will dramatically improve
our lives. It involves adventure.”

  “This sounds a lot like the speech you gave when you were eight,” Sean interrupted. “You need new material.”

  “Adventure, boys!” Reid trumpeted over their laughter. “We all have vacation the week before Christmas for Mark’s anniversary party slash gay celebration, but—”

  “Mom’ll be pissed if all of us disappear on an adventure you planned—mostly because our chance of survival is slim to none,” Mark pointed out. “Plus, I should probably be around for my own anniversary party.”

  “Well, I’d kind of like to finish my birthday speech before you two stomp all over my plan.” Reid waited for them to say something else and when they stayed quiet, he continued. “I found out through a friend of a friend of a—let’s just say I met a guy who has a solid hookup, and he told me there’s a ski cabin available.

  “Some old guy and his wife reserved it for a big holiday party, but they’re getting divorced and the party’s canceled. He’s offering it to us for half the price he paid—mostly because he wants to piss off his old lady. I’m not kidding you guys; this place is perfect. Eight bedrooms, all the bathrooms you could shake a stick at, a den, a game room, a gourmet kitchen, and a hot tub. I looked at pictures.”

  “What about—”

  “I’m not done, Sean, you horse’s ass. Birthday speech,” he repeated loudly. “All of us will go together. Mom, dad, Zane’s mom, Zane, the three of us, and you can even bring Tallulah, Sean.”

  “Her name’s Kendra.”

  “Really?” Reid laughed. “’Cause she looks like a Tallulah.”

  “You’ve never even seen her!”

  “Well, then, she sounds like a Tallulah.”

  “What’s that even mean?!”

  “Boys,” Mark stepped in. “Focus. How many days do we have the cabin and how much do we owe you? I know you already said we’d take it.”

  “Did I mention that we’re getting it for half off?”

  “How much?”

  “Lift tickets are included. It’s ski in and ski out! Hell of a deal.”

  “How much?” Sean and Mark answered at the same time.

  Reid took a deep breath. “The per-person cost isn’t too bad. If Zane can’t afford his share, we can figure out a way to cover him,” he joked.

  Long, lean arms suddenly braced Mark on either side as Zane leaned his body over the phone. Mark didn’t know how long his husband had been listening to the conversation on speakerphone, but he’d at least heard Reid’s last sentence.

  “That’s generous of you, Reid, especially on your birthday.”

  “Zane, hey!” Reid and Sean exclaimed. Mark was fairly certain they liked Zane better than their own flesh and blood.

  “What are the dates for the rental?” Zane asked, his voice rumbling down through his chest as he tucked Mark in closer.

  “It’s a week, starting the Sunday of your anniversary week.”

  Zane looked down at Mark questioningly and it was the first chance Mark had to see that his husband had shaved off his goatee. His breath hitched and he touched that smooth skin almost reverently. Yes!

  “We could just make it a small get-together instead of a big party. All of the family will still be together and we can ski or snowboard,” Zane pointed out, dropping a kiss on Mark’s palm. Mark nodded, wishing he could hang up that instant and, you know, not talk at all.

  “We’re in,” Zane agreed. “They’re giving us a short break from filming that week and like you said, Mark already has the time off.”

  “Whoa, wait!” Mark snapped into focus again. “How much, Reid?”

  “I want to get this for everybody, babe,” Zane soothed.

  “No, no, no,” Reid and Sean spoke up at once. “Absolutely not.”

  “Dad and mom won’t let that fly, either,” Sean added.

  “Zane, I didn’t bring this up so you would pay for everything.” Reid spoke up seriously. “It’s a reasonable price because it’s half off—I swear I saw the original paperwork. This guy really hates his wife, I guess. It’ll be about twelve hundred per person. I mean, normally it’s around three grand per!”

  Sean whistled, but said he’d been setting aside money for the trip to L.A. anyway. Reid had already paid the deposit, like Mark assumed. Zane stared at the phone for a minute, knowing he had to offer a trade if he wanted to make everyone comfortable. The Newland men were a proud bunch.

  “How about this,” Zane offered. “If everybody comes to our place in L.A., we’ll take care of the travel to and from Tahoe, and the rental. We’ll let everybody else take care of food and drinks while we’re there because that cabin probably isn’t stocked with food. Sean, since you’re already close to Tahoe, I can take care of your trip from San Fran.”

  There was hemming and hawing, a lengthy debate about fairness and its relevance to superstardom, and finally, they came to a tentative agreement. Reid’s job was to convince Patty and Brad Newland that this was the best Christmas idea since alcohol infused eggnog, and Zane had the right to choose who the final guests would be to round out the party.

  “I accept this with an additional rider to the contract,” Reid negotiated. “Not all of your invitees can have penises—and heck, while we’re at it—let’s make sure they aren’t all lesbians, either. I don’t want to be Lonely Lou in the corner, or just another swinging dick, you know?”

  “I’ll call your girl, Sophia, first thing,” Zane said, and then hung up as soon as Reid began to protest.

  Mark stood up and wrapped his arms around Zane’s waist. “It’s incredible of you to offer to pay for all of that. Reid was honest when he said he wasn’t calling so you would shell out the money.”

  “I know your family doesn’t like me for the money.”

  “Well, for my mom and me, it’s more about your body.”

  Zane kissed Mark on the nose and thrust his hips forward playfully. “That’s fine. As long as you stick around.”

  Damn, Mark loved that smooth jaw. Bone structure like that shouldn’t be hidden. He soaked in the view for a happy moment, but was compelled to drag the subject up again. “Seriously, if it’s too much…”

  “Mark, do you honestly think your dad and mom have three grand that they can put into a ski trip? Plus the price of food and travel to get there?”

  “I was going to pay for them.”

  “I know you’re making good money, babe, and I’m proud of you, and I wish you’d replace that Ford in the driveway, but let me ask you a question. How much did I get paid for Sacrifice?”

  Mark stared at him blankly. “I don’t actually know.”

  Zane grinned. “And I love that about you, but I got forty million.”

  “Yeah,” Mark smirked, “and how much of that did you actually take home?”

  Zane rolled his eyes. “Enough to cover this trip for everybody. C’mon, it’s not every day we have our first anniversary.”

  “I just don’t want you to think this is about your money.”

  “Hey,” Zane warned. “What’s mine is yours; you really need to try and understand that. Also, this will be fun. We can afford to do this nice thing for our family and on the plus side, we’ll be spread out in that cabin. Your parents won’t be just down the hall and we can park Sean in the garage if we want because he’s walked in on us before.”

  Zane made a good point. Mark thought it over for a minute. He hadn’t been looking forward to everybody crammed together in the house for a whole week. He loved his family, but sometimes they were all a bit much.

  Zane was guzzling yet another bottle of water and Mark watched the way his throat moved with each swallow. Since they were both up…

  “Wait, what are you doing awake? Don’t you have an early call?”

  The plastic bottle crackled in Zane’s hand as he wiped away the moisture left behind on his lips. Such a delicious mouth. Which flat surface would be best to land on?

  “I got a few texts from friends that woke me up and I couldn’t und
erstand what they were talking about. They were telling me they were on my side no matter what and encouraging me, so I called Jenny.”

  “What’s going on?” The tone of Zane’s voice managed to distract Mark from his lust for a heartbeat or two.

  “Jenny was going to wait until morning to tell me, but Pershall had another interview and he dropped the gay bomb.”

  “He’s gay?”

  “Oh, no, no, no.” Zane corrected him, his eyes flinty. “He’s not gay, but he sure doesn’t like that I am.”

  Mark was dumbfounded. How could Pershall think it was a good idea to bring up anything about that? Even if he hated the entire gay population, he should know to keep it under wraps. “Are you serious? What are you going to say about it?”

  Zane shrugged nonchalantly, but Mark saw the anger. “I’ll say what I always say: ‘No comment.’”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Alarik greeted the first week of silence from Damon with a stiff upper lip. He was determined to be patient and let the other man know that he wasn’t going anywhere. So, he sent an email only once every other day. That’s all. He threw himself into work and focused on achieving the final look for photos that Max wanted. By the time filming ended, he would have to sift through thousands of shots.

  Alarik spent hours on the set and more hours at home, editing images and printing them, basically supersaturating himself with task after task so he didn’t obsess over what Damon was doing, how he was feeling, if his family was okay, if their relationship was going to make it through this…

  He took a new batch of pictures to Max each day to see if they were of the same mind as far as lighting, color, and content. The book was going to be about the making of the movie and the true story behind the script, and without Max knowing, Alarik was taking a lot of pictures of him on set as he worked.

  It was fascinating to see Hayama work and it was messing with Alarik’s mind. On one side there was Damon—his heart-crushing love. On the other side, there was Max—his once unrequited, but now possibly requited crush. The timing was too good and too bad. Alarik was not desensitized to Max’s energy, and now, feeling wounded, he was discovering how vulnerable he was to the attention and the attraction.