Out

by Cara Dee

  What I didn’t manage to swallow dribbled down the corners of my mouth, and there was no time to lick it up before Henry yanked me to him forcefully and kissed the breath out of me. My stomach flipped as I landed awkwardly, though it didn’t stop me from moaning into the kiss and diving in for more.

  “Hi,” I laugh-croaked.

  He let out a breathless chuckle and merely shook his head.

  I think I did okay.

  It was a grumpy Martin we met up for breakfast around ten, coincidentally the same time Henry opened up his very popular bookstore for the day.

  “Can’t be easy being a baker and getting up at four, can it?” Henry was amused as he sat down on the porch and dug out bagels from a bag.

  “Call me a baker one more time,” Martin threatened. Next, he sniffed. “I’m a renowned pastry artist.”

  I chuckled and poured OJ for myself. The men already had their coffee.

  “What are your plans for the day?” Martin asked. With a wave of his hand, he added, “Other than screwing each other’s brains out.” At that, I froze. Henry grew still too, and Martin rolled his eyes. “Good God, we share a wall, Henry.”

  Shit.

  I cleared my throat and focused intently on spreading cream cheese on my bagel.

  “No wonder you told me he was off-limits.” Now Martin was all sly, his smirk directed at Henry.

  This was interesting information for me.

  “Oh, really?” I smiled at Henry.

  If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was feeling a little flushed himself. It didn’t show, but he sure looked a bit embarrassed.

  “It’s not what you think,” he told me. “Martin’s always on the prowl, so I told him to back off. This was before I even knew you were gay. Or bisexual. Or whatever you kids label yourselves these days.”

  I burst out a laugh, finding his stiff ramble cute as fuck.

  “That’s the only reason, though?” I wondered.

  He inclined his head. “At first—”

  “But then,” Martin interjected, “I do recall him saying you were sex on legs with the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen.”

  Was I glowing? I was glowing.

  “Thank you for recalling that so well.” Henry glared.

  “Simmer down, boys,” I said mildly. Then I propped my elbow on the table and rested my chin in my palm. I blinked innocently at Henry. “My eyes, huh?”

  He tried to hold that glare with me too, tried and failed. “You’re bad news.” He leaned in and kissed me quickly. “A man doesn’t stand a chance.”

  Good.

  “You can flirt later,” Martin said. “Joseph called earlier. We’re invited to a work event of his this Wednesday.”

  “Work event?” I cocked my head. Work sounded like work. If I couldn’t stay in bed with Henry, the very least I could do was head out and do some sightseeing.

  Henry explained, brushing some crumbs off his tee. “In Joseph’s industry, that means a party at some swanky club.”

  It sounded more fun, suddenly.

  “The company where he works,” Martin continued, “they signed with Sony last week.”

  “I thought he was a makeup artist,” I said.

  Martin nodded. “He is, and ShadowLight now has a contract with Sony for in-house productions. Bastard got a promotion too.”

  “I would assume so.” Henry took a sip of his coffee. “They have to expand quickly, don’t they? I thought they were a small company.”

  I tuned out while they talked about Sony, Joseph, some studio lot in Culver City, and expansions. The bagel was delicious, and Nan had messaged me four new curses she’d learned that made me grin.

  I don’t know what a fuckwhizz would even be.

  Martha’s grandson taught me “bitchflaps” today.

  I won at bingo night and accidentally hollered out, “Take that, dick wipes!” I was horribly embarrassed.

  Hope you’re having fun in LA, honey. I googled “twat wizard” today, which, to be honest, sounds more like something to brag about. Love you bunches.

  I shook my head, snickering.

  “Where the hell did he find these?” I was baffled, remembering the stores Martin had taken me to. Sure, there were graphic tees in most of them, but… Anyway, I sure hadn’t seen him throw in a washed-out blue one with the front logo saying, “Straight Outta The Closet.”

  I put it on and smirked at the mirror, brushing a hand over the yellow block letters. Jeans, Chucks, and shades followed, and then I was ready to meet Henry downstairs.

  He laughed when he spotted the shirt.

  “Let’s go, you lousy store owner.” I smacked a kiss at him, and he pinched my ass on the way out.

  I’d told him I could go alone, but he wasn’t having it. He closed his shop for the day, and then we left Malibu in my truck.

  As sexy as he was behind the wheel of his Lexus, I thought he fit in here too. Window rolled down, arm resting there, and the wind catching in his hair, he looked damn good in an old truck. It helped that he tended to dress a lot more comfortably than Martin. Henry, despite the finer things in his life, was rougher around the edges.

  Unbidden, I pictured the scenery changing. From the hills and beaches of Malibu to the mountain ranges and forests surrounding Camassia. He’d mentioned wanting a cabin up in Westslope, so I assumed he liked nature. Did he like working with his hands? Imagining him chopping wood and wearing an open flannel shirt sat extremely well with me.

  It was a world away from this.

  “So tell me about yourself.” I sent him a sideways smile and obeyed the GPS when it told me to take the next exit. I’d given up on finding my own way the first day I arrived in the LA area. “I told you my story.”

  He chuckled quietly and drummed his fingers along the door. “To quote you, there isn’t much to tell.” Somehow, I doubted that. “If you’ve met my parents, you probably know how I grew up.”

  True. I’d only been at the elder Benningtons’ estate once, and that’d been enough. They had art everywhere, where others would have family portraits. Other than seeing a couple pictures of Henry and Thorne as young boys—posing with formal smiles with the family dog—there wasn’t much warmth in that house. And I already knew Henry had been rejected by his family when he came out. So, no, I didn’t care much about the Henry he’d been around his folks ’cause it had been a fake version of him.

  “I wanna know about your life here,” I said. In LA, he’d been himself for far longer. “How long have you had the bookstore?”

  “Only a couple years,” he replied. “When my brother turned sixteen, he told me running a bookstore was his dream. He wanted shelves filled with science fiction and fantasy.” Just like Ty. Ty used to love those books. “Losing Thorne wrecked me. Because of our family situation, I didn’t see him often enough. He flew down a few times a year, and I visited in Chicago where he’d met Shelly, but…” He looked out the window, rubbing his scruffy jaw absently. “When they returned to Camassia, I feared our parents were going to turn him against me, which was foolish of me. Thorne was always protective of me.”

  “He was older?”

  Henry nodded once. “By two years.”

  He’d opened that store in memory of his brother. That, and unfulfilled dreams, maybe. It angered me when shitty parents stood in the way of their children’s dreams, even if it meant running a bookstore that wouldn’t rake in millions.

  “You’re turning the store into a sci-fi heaven, aren’t you?” I remembered the back wall being all science fiction, and how he was getting rid of what he called shelf-fillers.

  “I am,” he chuckled. “I didn’t plan for it at first, but then I found Tyler’s blog. He hasn’t written anything in ages. It used to be full of his recommendations for science fiction novels.”

  So, it was for both Thorne and Ty, that store.

  “Yeah, he’s a bit busy banging cheerleaders these days,” I mumbled, ignoring Henry’s wince. “What did you do before you opened
Topaz Pages? For the record, it’s not an awesome name.”

  “What’s wrong with Topaz Pages?” He got a little defensive. “It’s my favorite color and books.”

  I grinned. “Topaz like my eyes?”

  He scoffed under his breath and turned his head to the window. Too adorable. “After leaving JPMorgan, I got into real estate. It’s an exciting market.” His definition of exciting was different from mine. “I lived near Echo Park back then—close to Silver Lake and where Martin had his house. I’d say he lived there, but he spent most nights with other men.”

  We’d landed in the heart of Venice now, but after today, I wanted to know everything there was to know about his history with Martin. Featuring Joseph too. He’d watched me weirdly during that brunch.

  Ten

  Damn you, Joseph

  So…Monday nights were apparently reserved for playing cards on the porch. I had no interest in joining, opting to veg out in bed with a bag of M&Ms and a Coke. With the window open, I could hear Henry and Martin when they bickered.

  They acted like an old married couple.

  I texted with Mattie while I gave Instagram a go too. It was a decent distraction, and the filters were fun.

  Ty and I had a huge fight today. I hope his uncle will help.

  I responded, asking what it was this time, and then returned to Instagram. I’d uploaded photos of Venice Beach, the pier in Santa Monica, the Hollywood sign, and a couple randoms of palm trees so far. A picture of downtown LA’s skyscrapers was next, but first, I read Mattie’s answer.

  We went to Silver Beach, and he told a girl in our class she couldn’t tag along because she was fat.

  “Jesus Christ,” I growled. The guilt hit me hard; I’d been having a fucking amazing day with Henry, and this was going on while we were kissing and holding hands and going out for brunch and dinner together like an actual couple. Scrubbing a hand over my face, I was hit with a dose of reality. And reality was, this LA glitz didn’t belong to me. In real life, I was a pseudoparent with responsibilities that went beyond clubs and funny tees.

  After telling Mattie I was calling Ty, I uploaded the last picture and found Ty’s cell number.

  He answered on the third ring. “Bennington, who’s this?”

  “What the fuck is wrong with you, Ty?” I got out of bed, the hardwood floor creaking under my feet. “Did you really tell a girl she couldn’t go with you to the beach because of her weight?”

  There was a pause before Ty replied. “I should’ve known Mattie was gonna snitch to his big brother. How are you, Zach?”

  “I’ll be good once I get my hands around your ne—” Shit. Not the best approach. I could be mature for this. Maybe. “Look. Do you not see what an ass you’re turning into? What you said to that girl is straight-up bullying.”

  He had the nerve to laugh. “You’re not my father, man. Where do you get off telling me what to do? You’re nothing but a glorified babysitter.” He hung up on me.

  Eyes wide, I stared at the screen.

  “That little shit.” I ran a hand through my hair and looked around me, then headed straight for the stairs. Fuck the fucking Benningtons and their vacation in southern France. Henry had said he didn’t have the number, but how hard was it to track down?

  As I reached the store’s exit, I paused upon hearing Martin saying, “You know he’s interested.”

  The window was open a sliver here too. Stay or go? Tell Henry about Ty, or…eavesdrop?

  Yeah, like there was any contest. I had the darkness of the shop to keep me hidden as I walked closer to the window.

  “I’m aware,” was Henry’s muttered reply. “He sent me a message after brunch.”

  “Have you discussed it with Zach?” Martin wondered.

  I’m wondering too. Discuss what, Henry?

  “I’m hoping to avoid it,” he said. “Zachary is…different. It’s not just fun and games.”

  That boded well, at least.

  “It is for Joseph,” Martin pointed out, his tone patient. Almost gentle. “This is what he does. Hell, it’s what both of you do—usually.”

  “That’s hardly the case anymore,” Henry argued. “You of all people should know I’ve been a goddamn monk for years.”

  “Four years and two months. Should I count the days too?”

  I narrowed my eyes at nothing. I couldn’t see either of them, the table outside Martin’s shop a few feet too far to the left, and now I desperately wanted to know what they were talking about. I wanted to read their expressions. Joseph and I were clearly involved in whatever they were discussing, and there was a rock in the pit of my stomach telling me it wasn’t awesome news.

  “I suggest you talk to Joseph,” Martin said. “Zach is the first man you’ve shown interest in since Oliver, and that was a shitshow. Joseph might be under the impression you’ll pick up where you left off.”

  Henry sighed heavily. “And what if Zach is interested? He just started exploring men. I’d feel awful standing in the way—”

  “For fuck’s sake, Henry,” Martin interrupted irritably. I caught myself nodding, agreeing. It wasn’t fucking up to Henry to make decisions for me, nor did he know how I felt. “Zach is a sweetheart. He doesn’t strike me as one who needs to play the field for the sake of it.”

  My affection for Martin grew tenfold.

  “I’d feel even worse if he wanted—” Whatever Henry was going to say was lost as a phone rang.

  It was Martin’s. “Sorry, I’ll be right back. It’s my niece. You deal the next hand.”

  If I walked out there now, Henry would know I’d overheard them.

  Returning upstairs, I was accompanied by Eagle lugging his big butt up the stairs, and I only had one question for him.

  “Who’s Oliver?” I whispered.

  An hour later when I heard Henry coming up, I’d built a mountain of questions. I didn’t care if he knew I’d listened in either. If it was about me, I had a right to know.

  I’d kept my underwear on after climbing into bed so I wouldn’t get distracted, which I thought was pretty mature thinking on my part.

  “Did you have a nice game?” I asked.

  He looked too troubled to pull off a lie, and I was glad he didn’t try. “For a while, perhaps. I had a conversation with Martin that I could’ve lived without.”

  “Oh?” I pushed myself up to sit, the covers pooling around my waist.

  Henry left his clothes on and sat down on the foot of the bed.

  Not a good sign, was it?

  “I need to tell you a bit about Joseph and me,” he said, visibly uncomfortable. When that happened, he became more formal, rigid in his posture, and he struggled with eye contact. I gave him bonus points for bringing this up with me, though. He could’ve easily kept his mouth shut.

  “I’m listening.” It was possible I had some jealousy rearing its ugly head too.

  He scratched his jaw, thinking. “Before I begin, I should tell you that I’ve always had a habit of either hesitating too much or not enough. Hiding who I was for so many years left its mark, and it’s followed me into relationships.” He paused. “My love life has essentially consisted of brief periods of casual encounters and long dry spells. Once I jump into something, I ride it out until my uneasiness—originally, fear—catches up to me. You see, casual encounters were all I had until I finally found the courage to come out to my parents. I was constantly looking over my shoulder, even here in LA.”

  Since I didn’t know if he wanted me to be close, I stayed put, though my entire being shouted at me to scoot down and grab his hand or something.

  “I’ve been in a couple loving relationships since then, but I couldn’t shake the depression for a long time after my mother and father told me I was no longer their son.” He fidgeted absently with a side pocket in his shorts, tracing the button. “It made me feel like I was still living a lie. Every time I met a man, I had my parents in my head looking at me in disgust.”

  “That’s a heavy burde
n,” I murmured.

  He nodded with a dip of his chin. “Joseph has a similar story. He and I met through friends about ten years ago, and he’s the one who helped me put my parents behind me.”

  Ugh, nothing worse than being jealous of a good guy.

  I sucked.

  “How did he do that?” I wondered.

  “His father was ten times worse,” he sighed. “Joseph’s a few years younger than me, but if you keep our generation in mind, maybe you can guess that a big issue for many of us was HIV and AIDS. I’ve lived in both New York and LA, and I don’t know anyone in our community who escaped the eighties and nineties unaffected one way or another.”

  Of course, I’d known about the epidemic. “Did you lose anyone?”

  “A couple college friends,” he replied. “In many ways, I’m lucky. Families and relationships were shattered everywhere, not only because people fell ill, but because it became that much harder to come out.” He met my gaze briefly and put his hand on my foot through the covers. “Joseph’s father was convinced that he was going to drag the ‘gay plague’ home with him. For two weeks, during a school break, he kept Joseph locked up and beat him within an inch of his life.” Jesus fucking Christ. “When Joseph managed to escape, he came out here to live with an aunt who accepted him for who he is.”

  “I’m glad he got away.” I couldn’t imagine that pain. I’d lost both my parents, but that was different. My dad didn’t bail because he found me disgusting. He was just a loser deadbeat. And my mom… Her problems had been personal.

  “Me too.” Henry mustered a small smile. “He’d been in LA several years when I met him, but I didn’t need to see the fresh wounds. The scars were enough to infuriate me. I told him I couldn’t believe a parent would do that to their child. Of course, disowning me wasn’t as bad—”

  “They did more than disown you,” I interjected. “The shit they did to turn Ty against you…? Abuse is abuse, verbal or physical or emotional.”

  He nodded, the minuscule smile reappearing for a second. “That’s what Joseph made me realize. Same principle. Mind you, it took him a couple years before I believed it, but eventually, it was easier to put them behind me. For once, I could start living my life the way I wanted to.”