Better Than Beginnings: A Better Than Good Short Story Collection (Better Than Stories Book 5)

by Lane Hayes

  I laughed. I’d heard some funny stories about Jay’s boyfriend, Peter, and his wacky, Italian mother. “It’s not that bad. My mom just isn’t used to the idea of me being…with a man. I knew this wouldn’t be easy, but I didn’t think it would be this hard.”

  “It’s difficult. Certainly. But you have to ask yourself if you’d be happier living the life they want for you or living your own life.”

  “That’s just it. No one talks about this stuff where I’m from. No one asks what you want out of life unless it’s in a general way.…You know, what do you want to be when you grow up? Where do you want to live? The rest is assumed, expected. Telling my parents about Aaron has upset some kind of balance, and I don’t know how to get it back. Or if I ever will.”

  Jay nodded solemnly before heading toward the small galley-style kitchen. He pulled out a bottle of Chardonnay and poured us each a glass. He motioned for me to sit before setting my wineglass on the small dining table.

  “You will. Just give it time, Matt.” Jay sipped his wine, then smiled kindly. “I came out at eighteen, and while I wasn’t over-the-top fabulous like someone we both know and love, it wasn’t a giant surprise I was queer. Maybe it would help if your mom met Aaron and saw you two together. I’m not suggesting it’ll get better overnight, but she needs to get used to the idea that he’s your person and he makes you happy.”

  “You’re right.”

  “I told you, I’m good at this stuff,” he replied with a wink.

  “Are things better with Peter’s mom? I mean, has it gotten easier with time?” I took a sip and almost choked at Jay’s comical expression.

  “Fuck, no. She’s my five-foot-two personal nightmare come to life. Thank God she lives in another state,” he groused. “The truth is, I’m never going to win her over. It kills me on one hand because I’m so good at mergers and acquisitions of a friendly nature, but I’ve got religion working against me too. But I’m as kind as I can be. Occasionally it hurts and I feel like I can taste blood in my mouth from biting my tongue so hard and other times, I can laugh. But I love Peter and I won’t give him up to make her happy. It’s that simple for me.” Jay patted my hand, then stood. “Do you boys have any cheese and crackers? I’m going to need a ride home if I don’t eat something.”

  “I think so. Help yourself.”

  I checked messages on my cell while Jay moved around in the kitchen, humming as he rummaged through the fridge and opened cabinets and drawers. I glanced up at the rattling sound and immediately felt my face heat. Jay held his wineglass in one hand and a box of conversation hearts in the other.

  “Where did you find those?” I asked with a nervous half laugh.

  “In the miscellaneous drawer next to the lube.”

  “Oh.” The memory of what we’d done in the kitchen the last time the ubiquitous candy box appeared out of nowhere made my dick twitch.

  Jay’s wide, knowing grin told me no explanations were needed. He leaned against the counter and sipped his wine, peering at me over the rim thoughtfully.

  “That boy is a hopeless romantic.”

  “Huh?”

  “I know Aaron. I’m thinking he saved these from last Valentine’s Day…that’s all.”

  “He said he found them but…”

  “No way. He doesn’t save crappy candy from a holiday rendered meaningless if you don’t have someone to share it with. These are a good luck charm. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was keeping these around till your first real Valentine’s Day together,” Jay said in a syrupy tone.

  I loved the sentiment. I knew Aaron felt the same way about me, but he was still a little skeptical that I was in this for the long run. I couldn’t help thinking this thing with my family was a test of some kind. Maybe the candy hearts were a good luck charm. We started seeing each other romantically around Valentine’s Day, so it oddly made sense that Aaron would superstitiously keep a memento of hope for our future in heart-shaped form. The sweet vulnerability of the thought alone made me love him just a little bit more.

  We made it through the holidays drama-free. I spent Thanksgiving with the Mendez clan and thoroughly enjoyed myself. It was hard not to love his family. They were warm and welcoming. Their home was filled with the fragrant smells of turkey and all the trimmings…with a dash of Latin flair. Spanish was spoken as frequently as English, and kids ran down the halls and in between adults like demented monkeys. Aaron’s brother and dad were big sports fans, so conversation tended to center around football. There was no drama, no awkwardness about me being Aaron’s boyfriend. They loved Aaron and they accepted me without question.

  Christmas wasn’t quite as fun. I enjoyed spending the holiday with my family, but there was an awkward undercurrent I couldn’t quite grasp. Like my parents were trying too hard to make things “normal.” And when I mentioned Aaron’s name in passing a couple of times in conversation with my brother and sisters, my mom gave me “the look,” a silent plea for me not to make waves during the holidays. I went along with it because she was so adamant, but I hated lying about my life to keep the peace. I wanted everyone who mattered to know I was with Aaron, whether my parents acknowledged it or not. They were going to have a hard time ignoring it when we moved in together after the New Year.

  Part 4-

  We’d been talking about moving in together for a while. His place was too small, and my roommates were ready to relocate as well. Aaron wanted to stay in the Dupont Circle area where he currently lived. It was gay-friendly and centrally located. Worked for me. I honestly didn’t care where we ended up; I was just happy he said yes.

  “The living together part…are you sure? I mean…I want to. I do. I just want you to remember it’s me you’d be living with. Are you ready for that? Not that long ago you were telling me I’m high-maintenance and crazy and…I doubt that will change much.”

  “Yeah, I’m ready for it, baby. I like your brand of crazy.” I smiled so hard, my face hurt.

  “What if it doesn’t go well? What if you get sick of me? Ugh…or what if you’re too messy? I don’t do well with chaos not of my own making. What if—”

  I put a finger over his lips.

  “Shh. Aaron. I can’t guarantee it won’t be a fucking disaster, but”—I reached for his chin when he looked away from me—“I don’t think it will be. We aren’t total idiots. I know things about you. You’re a clean freak and you listen to techno club music at an excruciatingly loud volume. I, on the other hand, am not a total slob but dishes in the sink don’t bug me the way they bug you.”

  “My skin crawls thinking about it.”

  “I know. Look, we’ll just have to compromise, right? I’ll try to be neater, and you’ll have to agree not to blow out my eardrums every day. And then there’s television.”

  “What about it?” He peered through the longish hair covering his right eye with faux nonchalance. The guy was addicted to his reality programs.

  “I like sports. We’ll have to share the big screen, baby.”

  I leaned back to observe Aaron and tried to gauge whether I’d scared him off.

  “You aren’t going for the easy sell, are you, Matty?” Aaron crossed his arms over his chest. I laughed.

  “All I’m saying is that we’re different, which is probably why we’re together in the first place. Sometimes those differences may make living in the same place a little challenging, but I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t think it would work.”

  “I want to believe you, but I think you like a challenge too.”

  “Maybe, but I’m not a glutton for punishment. I love you, Aaron. We’re already practically living together, except I’m paying rent for an apartment in Georgetown I’m never at, and I haven’t given you a dime in rent. It’s financially a good move too. See?”

  “Do I get to decorate?”

  I rolled my eyes at the rhetorical question. Of course he would decorate. He knew I didn’t give a shit about furniture, color schemes, or accessorizing.

 
; Aaron jumped from my lap and returned a moment later. He straddled my thighs, grinding his crotch against mine. But I had a feeling he wanted to tell me something and not just that he was horny. He leaned forward and gently kissed me. Then he grasped my wrist and turned it before dropping a candy heart on my palm. I chuckled. I hadn’t seen these since Jay found the box in the kitchen a few months ago. It was officially pre-Valentine season, though. They would be easier to come by now. I looked at the pink heart in my hand and read, “Gracias.”

  “You’re welcome. These are new. How did you find these things in Spanish?”

  Aaron shrugged and slipped the candy between my lips. “You can find anything online, Matty. And if you can’t find, you can order it. Rugs, pillows, ottomans. I saw the coolest glass lamp the other day. It would look great next to this sofa. Or maybe we should think about buying a new one. A deep blue with a light pink throw and—”

  “Oh my God,” I groaned, letting my head fall back against the cushions. “No pink.”

  Aaron chuckled then bit my chin playfully. “Don’t worry. We’ll find an amazing place this weekend, and I’ll be sure to decorate it macho chic.”

  I didn’t know what that meant, but I was pretty sure I didn’t care as long as we were together.

  “I’m James. So nice to meet you both. Richie told me to take you to see 7A. It’s absolutely exquisite! You will love!”

  Richie? The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it. I gave up and followed. James led us to a brightly lit floor while chatting amicably with Aaron about the friendly residents and fabulous amenities one only finds in newer construction. I kept quiet, wondering if all these wonderful things were affordable, but I didn’t want to spoil their fun. James was unfailingly professional and extremely enthusiastic. Aaron was the perfect audience. When James opened the door to 7A with a flourish, Aaron gasped appreciatively as if on cue. I rolled my eyes and stepped inside.

  I almost gasped too. It was incredible. The open floor plan featured wide-plank hardwood flooring and high ceilings. A state-of-the-art kitchen sat at one end of the great room. I noted the black granite countertops and the three small pendant lights over the island. A stacked stone fireplace anchored the living area on the opposite side of the space with a long bank of floor-to-ceiling windows in between. The walls were white—which no doubt would be the first thing Aaron would want to change. But everything else about the place was beautifully understated, shiny, new, and move-in ready.

  “There are two bedrooms and two bathrooms. But the best thing is that they are on opposite ends of the main living area. So when you have houseguests, you aren’t on top of one another. I’m going to leave you two to explore on your own for a few while I check on another unit,” James said with a bright grin before heading for the door.

  The second we were alone, Aaron lunged into my arms and crashed his mouth over mine, sucking my tongue while his hands roved everywhere. In my hair, along my chest, then circling my waist to squeeze my ass. I pulled back for air, brushing my nose against his.

  “Stop. We can’t do anything here.”

  “I know. Good thing we took a little of the edge off before we ventured out, don’t you think? I’m so fucking horny, and this place is making it worse!” Aaron stood on his toes and licked my jaw, kissing a path down my neck before he looking up at me with an innocent expression. Asshole. I adjusted myself and stepped away from him.

  “This is really nice, babe. But…”

  “I know what you’re going to say, but let’s not think about that right now!” He stepped aside and danced into the kitchen. “Just imagine, Matty.…You wake up in the morning and I do my best I Love Lucy impression. ‘Good morning, dear, would you like a cup of coffee?’ I’ll present you with a lovely cup of java before racing to this outrageously gorgeous stovetop to create a culinary masterpiece for you. What would you like? Maybe pancakes or an omelet? Nothing blasé, though. No! I’ll chop red peppers and sweet onions and I’ll—”

  “Will you be wearing an apron?”

  Aaron batted his eyes mischievously. “And nothing else.”

  I gulped audibly. Damn.

  “Aar.”

  “Can you picture it? I don’t just mean the naked omelet. The two bedrooms are ideal! You can play your guitar or use the other room as an office, and say I’m tired and want to rest in our spacious master bedroom…no worries. Win-win. It would be great for entertaining too. I could have my nephews over. Or even your family. What do you think?”

  “Aar.”

  A soft click at the front door announced James’s timely return. Aaron took one more longing glance around the space before we both followed him out. James urged us to decide quickly if possible as another couple wanted to see the condo tomorrow for a second time.

  “We understand. I don’t think you told us the monthly rent.”

  James gave me a blank stare and then turned to Aaron. “Didn’t Richie talk to you about…?”

  “Yes, yes. Don’t worry. We’ll talk, and I’ll call you tonight.”

  Something was up and as usual, I was a step or two behind. I let it go. Numbers didn’t lie. If we couldn’t afford it, we couldn’t afford it. Period. It didn’t matter how amazing the place was.

  “So, how much?” I gave Aaron a sideways glance as we walked back to his place.

  “You’re going to say it’s too much, but it’s a deal. Hear me out and—”

  “How much?” I repeated.

  Aaron shoved his hands into his coat pockets and sighed heavily before blurting the amount. I almost choked.

  “Holy fuck. That doesn’t sound like a deal. It’s way more than I pay now.”

  “Matt, you live in glorified student housing. That made perfect sense while you were in law school, but you’re a lawyer now. You have a fabulous job at a respected law firm. I have a great job too. I’ll be up for a promotion soon and—we’re not kids. We’re grownups. We can run the numbers and make sure it’s in our budget, like responsible adults. I think you’ll see that while it’s more than what we spend now, we can do this and still put money away.” He stepped aside for another couple on the sidewalk before adding, “I don’t want to ask, but there’s a chance Richie might consider lowering the rent.”

  “No, that’s okay. I just—who’s Richie again?” I asked, running a hand through my hair.

  “You’ve met him, Matty,” he said.

  It turned out that Richie was the artist friend of Aaron’s I’d met almost a year ago at a photography exhibit. He and his partner were moving to Europe for a year and needed to rent their newly purchased condo. When they heard Aaron and I were in the market, they made a special deal because they preferred leasing to people they knew and trusted.

  “Oh. Right. I remember.”

  “Does that mean no?” Aaron asked, glancing sideways at me.

  He looked crushed. Fuck. I did the calculations in my head quickly and told him my concerns. I didn’t hold anything back. If we had to deal with financial catastrophe right from the start, we’d be doomed. Aaron offered to pay more each month to make it work, but my pride wouldn’t let me agree. It was important to me that we split the cost evenly. There was a part of me that wanted to be the guy who paid more, the guy to take care of him. He’d rake me over the coals for thinking it in the first place, so I wisely kept my mouth shut.

  “Do we have to decide tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  I took a deep breath. Why the fuck not?

  “Okay, let’s do it.”

  “Really?”

  Aaron stopped in the middle of the crowded sidewalk on Connecticut Avenue and flashed a mega-watt grin. The kind that made my heart skip a beat. Knowing I had something to do with that smile made me feel like a fucking superhero. I had never been one for public displays, but this time I didn’t care who saw. I kissed his forehead, then his nose before crashing my mouth over his.

  “Hey. I love you. You know that?”

  He hesitated for a moment befor
e nodding. “I think I do.”

  We stared at each other for a long moment with matching goofy grins before I slipped my hand in his and headed back to Aaron’s place.

  Part 5-

  We moved into our condo the first weekend of February. I was excited about the new place, but moving was one of my least favorite things. I hated packing, lifting, unpacking, reorganizing. Aaron, however, didn’t seem to mind at all. He was anxious to get to the fun part…decorating. I felt my eyes glaze over when he started talking about new pillows, sheets, and towels. To be fair, he had a good reason for wanting to get organized and settled in quickly. My mother was coming to visit.

  No doubt she planned on staging a visit-slash-intervention the second she heard we were living together.

  As her visit drew near, so did Aaron’s anxiety. He didn’t seem overly nervous, but his compunction for order was amplified. He was obsessed with finishing the guest “suite.” And he wanted everything to be perfect.

  The weekend before she arrived, I let him talk me into going to one of those giant bedding warehouses. It was supposed to be a quick trip to pick up a couple of towels for the guest bath. I didn’t understand why we needed them to begin with. Aaron owned dozens of towels already; surely there were a few to spare for the second bathroom. He pulled his Ray-Ban sunglasses down his nose and eyed me carefully when I pointed that out.

  “Matty, it’s a brand-new bathroom. Freshly painted in a gorgeous shade of eucalyptus. You can’t seriously think we can put my old towels, which were purchased for a completely different-colored bath in our new one. Can you?”

  “Uh…guess not,” I replied lamely. “Look, just don’t torture me. Please. Can we do this in fifteen minutes?”