by Cara Dee
“Making friends?”
“You heard everything, didn’t you?”
“‘Let’s make a deal,’” he quoted.
“Great.” I kept my sulking internal and looked around for a place to sit.
“Why don’t you get settled upstairs?” he suggested. “I left you some food in the fridge if you’re hungry, and Martin’s bringing over lunch in a few hours.”
That was a good idea. I nodded and grabbed my bag again. “Thanks for letting me stay here.”
“My pleasure. I don’t have company often. Or ever.”
Family. Friends. Lovers.
What was considered company? Henry was so handsome there should be guys lining up. Shit, or not. That thought wasn’t very pleasant. Probably because I was officially interested. I just hadn’t decided if I should or could do anything about it. He was Ty’s uncle, for chrissakes. It wasn’t on the list to explore anything with Henry. I was supposed to do that with others, with people I wouldn’t have to worry about messes and entanglements.
I had to think about it.
Henry returned to his customers as they were ready to pay, and I went upstairs, grimacing as Eagle followed me. The grimace was wiped off my face, though, when I opened the door to Henry’s place. Not only had he tidied up, he had turned the sleeping nook into a slice of hotel heaven.
Something twisted inside me. I walked closer and brushed my fingers over the neatly folded bundle of two towels. There was a satin ribbon around it, and a new toothbrush was tucked underneath it, along with a note.
Zachary,
Make yourself comfortable. I’ve changed the sheets, there are shower products in the bathroom, and help yourself to the food and snacks in the kitchen. If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate.
-Henry
Damn. Merely picturing him putting this bundle together for me was giving me all kinds of fuzzy, warm feelings. How fucking sweet was he?
Eagle came sniffing around my bag, and I sat down on the foot of the bed.
“I think it’s safe to say I’m not straight,” I told him.
He turned, dismissive, and sauntered over to the couch.
The bed looked too inviting to resist. Too bad Henry had changed the sheets. I wouldn’t have minded being surrounded by his scent. For now, his apartment would have to do, and I did like the smell of whatever soap he used. There was a hint of manly scents, whether it was cologne or aftershave. Coffee too. And something edible. I’d have to check out the fridge later.
For now? For now, his apartment would have to do?
I caught myself, thinking back on that. As if there would be a later that looked different? At this point, I couldn’t imagine it. I’d never so much as kissed another guy. I touched my lips, wondering what it’d be like to kiss him. He was larger than me. Would I feel surrounded? Enveloped?
I gusted out a breath as a rush of arousal flooded south. Oh boy. Definitely not straight, though I’d suspected that for a while. Now to find out how far I wanted to go with a man.
I wanted to talk to Martin.
I glanced at the pillows. Okay, maybe I could talk to him after a quick nap.
I woke up slowly, and to the sound of whispers.
“I mean it, Martin. Let him sleep.”
“He needs to eat. He’s so cute, I just want to keep him as a pet. A pet that’s fed.”
I smiled into the pillow.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” There was no heat in Henry’s voice. “Do I need to push you down the stairs? He’ll come down when he’s hungry. Let’s go.”
“Can I at least buy him new pants?”
“For God’s sake,” Henry grated. Don’t laugh, I told myself. Don’t fucking laugh. There was some shuffling, and their voices moved farther away. “Go, you old fool.”
“I’m going! One observation, though.” Martin was moving down the stairs. “This is the most action your bed has seen since you moved in and Joseph’s ex passed out drunk.”
Henry sighed heavily. “Wait, which ex? Tommy?”
“No, the twink in pharmaceutical sales.”
“Samuel.”
“That’s the one. He wore way too much black too.”
My snicker was muffled by the pillow, and once the room was silent, I flopped onto my back and stared at the ceiling. I felt refreshed, and I was in a good mood. At the growl of my stomach, I noted I was starving too. Martin could feed his pet, I guessed.
Dragging my lazy butt out of bed, I straightened my clothes and shook my head in amusement. I was really getting a kick out of their dynamic. I wanted friends like that. I’d worked basically all my life, even when I was in school, so I only had a few people I called friends. One was recent, to boot. Dominic was even gay, but we weren’t close enough yet that I could feel comfortable discussing any of that with him. Meghan was a no-go too. There was no way I could talk about this with my ex.
After a trip to the bathroom, I was ready to face the men downstairs, and with a disgruntled look, I acknowledged Eagle as he mirrored every step I took.
“Did your daddy tell you to keep an eye on me?” I scowled.
The fur ball ignored me, and he didn’t walk past the threshold of the office behind the store. Almost as if he knew the bookstore and beyond were off-limits. While I continued, Eagle heaved himself up into the cushy chair in the corner for a nap.
I found Henry and Martin outside—in the blistering heat. Henry was setting one of the little tables there, fishing things out of a takeout bag, and Martin had just fetched a bottle of wine from his own shop.
He was the first one to spot me. “Well, good morning, sunshine.” He smiled.
I mustered a small one, widening it when Henry faced me.
“Have a seat.” Henry got an extra chair from the other table. “Did you sleep well?”
I nodded slowly. “Can I ask why we’re sitting out here? It’s gotta be a hundred degrees.”
“Have some faith, handsome.” Martin crooked a finger. Come here. “The middle seat should work for your northern self.” He grabbed my arm gently as I reached them, and my attention was split in two. A nice, cold breeze was flowing out of the window outside Martin’s pastry shop, and I spotted a fan right inside. They came prepared. At the same time, it was impossible not to register his fingers brushing my arm. “My, my. You do have a beautiful complexion. Fair and smooth.”
I wrinkled my nose and eyed my arm. Sure, I was pale. I lived in Washington. The fine hairs were dark, probably making me look even paler.
“Are you done groping the boy?” Henry asked, his features drawn tight.
I didn’t know what sucked more, being called boy by a man I was all but lusting after, or the possibility of being the reason he suddenly sounded irritated.
I sat down between them and gawked at the Styrofoam boxes that revealed fancy-looking rolls with creamy filling. After Martin had tutted at Henry and called him a testy bore, he told me they were fresh lobster rolls.
“This looks so good.” I nodded in thanks as Henry slid me a container, and I lifted the heavy roll and took a big bite. “And expensive.” The addition came out muffled by food, and Martin merely beamed at me. Because his pet was getting fed?
“Nothing I do can repay you for what you’ve done for me,” Henry told me. “While you’re here, you’re my guest. Please don’t worry about costs. I want you to enjoy yourself.”
I swallowed and nodded once. “Thank you.” It was easier to accept when he put it like that, like I had helped him out. Perhaps I had, though I could probably get a full tank of gas for this lobster roll. A few more meals, and my trip—motel included—would be compensated for.
“With that out of the way…” Martin picked the decorative piece of lettuce from his roll. “I have a question, Zach.”
“You can’t buy me new pants, man,” I said.
The two men shared a stunned expression before amusement took over, and I felt bold. Comfortable, most of all. I smirked and shifted in my seat, t
hen dug back into my food.
After the chuckles had died down, Martin faced Henry with a serious look. “I want to keep him. Don’t tell me I can’t.”
Even Henry smiled at that.
“But no, you rascal, that wasn’t what I wanted to ask,” Martin told me. “Although, I’ll certainly try again later. My question is about next week. Will you be doing any sightseeing?”
I hadn’t really thought about that. I was here to explore something else. That said, it would be cool to see some of the stuff I’d watched on TV. The Hollywood sign, Santa Monica Pier, and Venice.
“Maybe some.” I chewed slowly, guessing this was an opportunity to try some of that honesty. My stomach did a somersault, and my hunger faded momentarily. I had to jump, though. I’d regret it if I didn’t. “Ehm, the thing is…” I cleared my throat and reached for a wineglass. Condensation had fogged the surface, and I took a big gulp of it. I wasn’t much of a wine drinker, but it did the trick. “I was wondering…um, what’s West Hollywood like?”
I’d heard it was a neighborhood with a strong gay culture. A gayborhood, if you will.
You learned the weirdest terms online. I still wasn’t sure what the difference was between twinks and twunks.
Henry had grown still, and he put down his lobster roll and wiped his mouth with a napkin. He didn’t look super comfortable.
Martin eyed me up and down, a small smirk playing on his lips. “So perhaps you don’t have a girlfriend at home.”
I shook my head no.
Looked like all I had to do was mention West Hollywood and they knew where I was going with this.
Martin patted my hand. “Hon, is this new to you?”
“Very.” I managed a weak smile, and my heart pounded. “I don’t want to suppress it, though. I’ve had these thoughts for two years. I wanna find out.”
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he looked proud. It didn’t make sense. With their obvious surprise settling, they started eating again. At least Martin did. Henry seemed more interested in his wine.
My guess was it was a sensitive topic for him because of how he’d been treated when he came out.
I didn’t know Martin’s history.
“How old are you?” Martin asked. “Twenty-two, twenty-three?”
I nearly balked. I didn’t look that fucking young, did I? “I’m twenty-seven!”
He waved a hand. “Semantics for me.” Thoughtful and chewing, he looked at his friend. “What do you think, Henry? We can’t in good conscience send him to WeHo clubs.”
“Definitely not.” Henry’s voice was quiet yet firm. As if the idea were ludicrous. “They’ll eat him alive.”
“Do you go there? To the clubs there, I mean.” I glanced between the two.
Henry’s mouth twisted up.
Martin laughed outright. “Oh no, dear. We’ve aged out of the system.”
I wanted Henry’s take on things. Despite his evident discomfort, I looked at him in question. Teach me. Or hell, kiss me if you won’t tell me where to go. Okay, perhaps that would make him more uncomfortable.
He surrendered with a sigh, and he put down his food once more. “West Hollywood’s clubs might be too much if you’re just testing the waters and want to take things slowly. Their scene is a meat market. Not that I’ve been there in ages. As Martin pointed out, we’re not part of the demographic anymore.”
“We’re too old,” Martin supplied.
Henry shot him a frustrated look. “Thank you for reminding me.”
“You’re very welcome,” he replied, and I couldn’t help but grin. “Henry’s right, Zach. If you want sexy go-go boys and a round of Dude, Where’s My Car when you wake up not knowing where you are, the clubs there are perfect.” He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Of course, you can find low-key bars there as well, and many of my friends have settled down in domesticated gay heaven in the neighborhood, but we can probably find you a nice gay bar on the westside too.”
West Hollywood wasn’t west enough?
Henry inclined his head. “There’s no need to dive straight into the club scene.” He paused. “You haven’t visited any gay-friendly bars at home?”
I shook my head. “I’m not…hiding, per se. But I haven’t been comfortable yet.”
If I came home with a boyfriend, I didn’t believe I’d face many problems. My nana was open-minded and accepting, and Mattie had friends who were already out. I just…I guessed I was one of those guys who liked to process things on his own first, and this was the option with which I was most at ease. I wouldn’t be on my own, but I would be away from everyone I knew.
“What’s the scene like in Camassia Cove?” Martin asked.
Henry tipped his head from side to side, weighing his answer. “There are a few places in Cedar Valley, but it’s no Silver Lake.”
“Where’s that?” I’d never heard of Silver Lake. We had a Silver Beach. Maybe it was close?
“Not far from Hollywood,” Martin answered. Oh, so it was a neighborhood here in LA. “I grew up there. It’s very gay-friendly. And full of special people.” The way he said special… “Hipsters, artists, snowflakes who burst up in flames if you’re not politically correct.”
Henry snorted.
Okay, so I wouldn’t visit Silver Lake. I didn’t wanna step on any toes and offend someone. It was practically a given, with how new I was to this.
“So, a chill bar or something,” I said, getting us back on track. “Will you guys go with me?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely, darling.” Martin nodded and licked filling off his finger.
“Thank you.” I was relieved.
“Wait for it,” Henry muttered.
I frowned in confusion, and Martin’s eyes landed on me, his expression gleeful.
“You can’t go to a gay bar like that,” he said.
Goddammit.
“You’re talking about shopping, aren't you?” My shoulders slumped. I didn’t know squat about fashion, and I wasn’t very interested.
“I am, yes, and it’s nonnegotiable.” He was too smug.
I agreed to his terms, though. I wanted to experience as much as possible. Even if it meant shopping.
“Can we go today?” I asked.
Martin laughed softly. “Boy’s eager, Henry.”
Henry merely hummed and took a swig of his wine.
Shortly after, a truck rolled up, and I looked over my shoulder to see a woman my age stepping out. The white vehicle had Martin’s shop’s cupcake logo on the side.
“Oh, here comes the boss.” Martin smiled widely and rose from his seat. “How are you, my darling?”
The curvy brunette grinned right back and got out of the sun. “All good, Uncle M. Deliveries to Calabasas and Topanga. Hi, Henry.”
“Hello, dear.” Henry smiled.
“Orders are packed and ready to go.” Martin kissed her cheek, then put his arm around her waist. “Mariella, I want you to meet Zach. He’s visiting from Washington. Zach, this is my niece and ballbuster, Mariella. She handles all the boring stuff so I can make pretty treats all day long.”
She laughed at him and stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Zach.”
“You too.” I shook her hand. “So it’s just you two taking care of everything?”
“Oh, no.” Mariella pointed toward the truck. “He has another location in Santa Monica. I come here once a day to pick up the goods, that’s all. He only takes care of a small portion of the orders here too.”
“Sometimes you have to come up twice,” Martin corrected with a sniff. “We’re getting more deliveries every day.” He looked at me seriously. “You must like my Facebook page.”
I didn’t dare tell him I wasn’t on Facebook. So I just nodded.
Four
Fuck the list. I need a coming-out diary
Five hours later, I was stepping out of Martin’s Mercedes that he parked behind the building. I assumed the black Lexus belonged to Henry. Bookstores sure raked it in.
I’d use the term shell-shocked.
I had a serving of petulant anger reserved for Henry too. Because the bastard had bowed out of shopping, and I was sure he could’ve saved me more than once. Shopping with Martin was awful.
Other than spending way too much money on me, which made me highly uncomfortable, his generosity had extended to not pushing me into more than one dressing room. But God, once he’d figured out my sizes and measurements, he’d been a hurricane. He’d held up item after item in front of me, hemming and hawing, never once listening to what I said.
Our three-hour outing resulted in five shopping bags, and I wasn’t sure I had the energy to go to a bar anymore.
“If there’s anything that doesn’t fit, leave it in a bag, and I’ll return it next week.” He stopped outside of the bookstore and handed me the two bags he’d been carrying. “Tonight is a test. I will let you dress yourself, but if it’s an utter disaster, expect me to stop by before brunch tomorrow.”
He didn’t wait for a response. After a swift peck on my cheek, he returned to his own shop.
My brain was tired. I had a snarky joke on the tip of my tongue but bit it back. I bit back another thank-you too. In the car, he’d told me if I thanked him for everything one more time, he’d spank me.
I didn’t think I was ready for spankings.
Henry looked up from where he stood behind the counter as I entered, and it was like he just knew the hell I’d been through.
I scowled at him and dropped all the bags. “You left me.”
He was trying not to laugh.
Make no mistake, I understood now why he’d bailed and blamed it on work he probably didn’t have. Shopping with Martin couldn’t happen again. And it wouldn’t surprise me if Henry had been subjected to this in the past. Maybe he’d made himself the same promise. Never again.
“That bad, huh?” His eyes gave away the mirth.
I could only huff. Bad didn’t come close. Being as crappy as I was when it came to picking clothes, I didn’t know what colors I liked, much less what cuts and fabrics I preferred. Somehow, that’d given Martin carte blanche.