Chapter eight
While Ellery's work day would've felt incomprehensibly easy to many people, he did actually work, and it did actually take time. There was a certain vigilance involved that seemed to exacerbate his already nervous nature. I could see the strain of it on his face sometimes.
He filled out forms about his general wellbeing and needs, very regularly and in great detail. He saw more than one shrink (and told me I'd probably end up doing the same as soon as they could figure out what to do with me). And Erin checked on him every day, making sure he was okay and asking if he needed anything.
He liked Erin. We all liked Erin. She was kind but deeply efficient. You never felt pitied by Erin, but at the same time, you knew she'd take care of you and help if you needed something.
Meanwhile, Kevin was working me hard but smart, and as he actually appreciated and listened to what I told him, I was kind of cool with it.
More than once I had to rush off at a moment's notice with him, to fly to a meeting in Nevada or Canada or central Europe. These trips were interesting to me, as I'd never travelled a lot before. I generally had to stick pretty close to Kevin, but sometimes I had a few hours to kill and could wander around exploring. I kept a cell phone on me at all times and Kevin was allowed to call me in at any moment.
He worried about my going off alone. I told him I could take care of myself, and while he looked doubtful, he didn't outright forbid me to go. Ideally, he would've worked twenty-four-seven without my ever leaving his side. He was very committed to the job, and strangely paranoid about losing my skills.
The way we travelled was rushed but lavish; there was always leg room, and special treatment on flights. The hotel rooms were always amazing.
I felt very taken care of, living this high-flying lifestyle. I hadn't thought I'd adjust to wealth so quickly. I hoped I could still remember how to take care of myself when the special treatment was gone.
Kevin could be a bit neurotic when he got started worrying about me. I'd been feeling for some time now that he was nervous about me. He wanted an ironclad contract to keep me there, some way to make sure I'd always be able to do the work and keep up with him, and wouldn't change my mind and leave him. At the same time, he recognized I wasn't an automaton, and he didn't try to make it happen. But he worried.
I liked being around Kevin, as he wasn't one to get overly churned up with negative emotions. He was always focused on getting the job done, and what came next, and he was too clever and disciplined to wallow in unnecessary negativity. This made him peaceful to be around for the most part, even when he was going a mile a minute mentally, thinking over contracts and negotiations and project limitations.
He was so utterly devoid of hostility towards me, or any lascivious intent, or any negative emotions at all aside from that worry, that I felt peaceful around him, even when we were working long hours. Ellery trusted me enough to fall asleep on my shoulder, and Kevin more than once had to shake me awake towards the end of a flight after I'd leaned on his.
He was gentle with me sometimes, in a way that was completely devoid of anything crass, mocking, or sexual. It made me love him a little, to know someone could want to be kind to me and take care of me without any ulterior motives. In a way, I knew he had an ulterior motive — he wanted me to keep working efficiently — but it still felt good, and it felt real when he looked into my eyes searchingly, asking if I needed anything, or touched my arm to ground me, or asked me what I wanted for lunch, or any of a dozen other little kindnesses I couldn't take for granted because they were so rare in my life. That he meant them and wasn't just going through the motions was a balm to my sore, battered spirits, and raised my feelings of value a little each time.
I liked Kevin. He had a monk-like asceticism to him, and I felt safe with him. I knew from the bottom of my soul that Kevin was never going to touch me inappropriately or want to take me to bed or even notice me that way. I could've walked into a room naked with him and he wouldn't have cared. He'd have averted his eyes to be polite and not even thought about making mocking jokes at me or getting it on with me. For a guy who generally loved to flirt, I appreciated that more than I'd expected.
I relished it when he did touch me, as he was always so careful and polite. If he had ever stroked my head, I'd probably have purred from a feeling of self-satisfied, contented comfort. I liked travelling with him, although I liked getting back, too. I was falling into a schedule, and my bed was starting to feel like home, an easier place to sleep than anywhere else.
They did indeed have me talking with shrinks regularly. It was pretty easy. They didn't force me to talk about anything I really didn't want to, seemed to understand that most ESRB-rated individuals had been through the wringer in one way or another and might be a little cracked inside. And, well, I was always good at talking. I never had to let silences grow too big before I found something else to chatter on about.
#
"They said I get another vacation next month," Ellery told me, looking up hopefully. "Do you want to ask for one?"
"Pretty sure I don't qualify yet," I said, feeling amused by the thought.
Still, I'd been thinking about hitting the town and getting laid. I was pretty settled into the job now, and that was how I beat off stress with a stick. As long as there was no falling in love, of course.
"Oh. Well, I mean, you could ask . . ."
"No. I don't think so." I cut him off.
"Oh. Okay." He nodded too hard. "That's . . . of course. I'm not trying to be pushy."
Since he was the least pushy person I knew, I laughed. After a second, he did too, looking rueful and gentle, his eyes crinkling up with humor.
After that I had another important trip to make with Kevin, this time to a beach resort. That was fun. I stared at hot guys from behind reflective sunglasses and loafed on the beach when Kevin didn't need me.
Sometimes I wondered why I hadn't had a Kevin all my life — part big brother, part generous boss, and always protective towards me. Other times, I wondered if I would've agreed to this job at all if I hadn't lost so much self-respect and felt so beaten into the ground by recent events.
In coming here, I had basically given up all major control over my life and started letting others make decisions for me, having me on call at any moment, and working hard in a corporate setting where I'd never have dreamed I'd be able to do anything functional aside from annoying people.
I was doing it for the money, of course, but I'd grown some real affection for my boss, for Erin and the other people I worked around, and most of all for Ellery.
It was nice to have a buddy. I hadn't had one in a long time.
Although there were so few decisions I needed to make (or even could make) for myself, it never felt that way. I felt free; I felt safe. It was strange to have both. I rarely even thought about the money lately. It was collecting in my bank account, which was growing fat with the cash. But I didn't think about that much.
I thought about what I'd have for breakfast the next day, what movie I'd watch with Ell, and how many pushups I might be able to manage one-handed.
I thought about Kev, trusting me and taking care of me, and Erin, with her efficient gentleness and wise eyes, and even the psychiatrist with her mellow, listening attitude. I was taken care of here so well it didn't feel like I had no choices — it felt like I had all the choices, and also like I was in a safety net, a cocoon of comfort. After hard years of either scraping by, getting my heart broken, my bones broken, or my spirit broken, it felt very good.
I hadn't thought of Angel much recently, but when I did, my heart still hurt. He was one of the nicest (and hottest) guys I'd ever known. Why did he have to mind my empath talent so much? I think if I'd had even a slightly lower rating, so I was less accurate, he'd have stayed with me. I think we could've had forever.
Then there was Damon. His hatred still chafed. We'd been good friends at the start — or at least I'd thought we were. He'd admired me. The sex had bee
n amazing. But he'd ended up hating me. It still felt awful knowing I could inspire such disgust and loathing, even if intellectually I knew it was really more about him than me.
And then there was Colin Gillis. In a way, he puzzled me the most. Our breakup had definitely been my fault, but I wasn't sure how I'd done it, except by being nasty and scared to trust him. And he hadn't really wanted to keep our relationship going after that, even if I had.
Not that I did. Somehow knowing I could push him away so easily made me not want to invest any more of myself, or trust my heart to him. And yet he'd surely been the nicest boyfriend I'd had in ages. He'd been real, and sexy, and caring. He'd wanted to take care of me.
But while I liked being taken care of by Kevin, that was a very straightforward sort of relationship, boss and empath. Although it sometimes seemed closer, almost family-like, it was really a very clearly defined relationship that sometimes bled over into the personal.
Kevin cared about me, wanted to take care of me, and did so. I didn't mind letting him. But I wasn't having sex with Kevin; I wasn't pursuing an equal partnership with him that meant long-term living together, love, and great sex. I wasn't sure if I could date someone who wanted to take care of me.
All three of those exes had been so great in bed. Or else I was just easy to please. The fact that all three relationships were still tormenting me was a good clue that I wasn't over any of them yet.
Maybe that's why I was putting off going clubbing. On some level, I suspected that rushing into sex (even though it wasn't really rushing after this long), wouldn't fix anything, but just make me feel worse.
I'd always been a hopeless romantic, disappointed every time a one-night stand didn't turn into breakfast and cuddles, and nuzzling in the back of a movie theater on dates, and hearts and flowers and all the rest of it. I'd expected too much from life, and now I wasn't sure I dared expect anything along that line at all.
No, I had Kevin, Erin, Ellery, and the job. I should be content with that. It was safer.
So, even at the beach, all I did was ogle. And I enjoyed it very much. But I took nothing further, even when a cute guy accidentally dropped his towel, bent over in front of me, and then acted surprised to see me and asked me if I knew the time.
He was easy to read, even without my empath talents. With them, he was even easier. He thought I was hot, and wouldn't mind having an affair with me. But yes, it would be an affair; he was married, just a little bored with his husband.
I refrained from calling him a bitch to his face, but just barely.
He had someone who'd agreed to love him for a lifetime, and he could only think about finding a piece of ass?
#
When we got back, I had a pleasant tan and looked even better than usual. Unlike Ellery, I could dress myself pretty well, and I looked smokin' in my trim t-shirt and well-fitted shorts. It was all totally classy clothing, but nobody could've missed seeing my near-perfect ass and how fit I was.
Working out regularly had given me some nice muscle definition, even more than usual, and the tan looked good. Behind designer sunglasses, with a nice haircut and classy but sexy clothing, I looked quite edible, if I did say so myself. I practiced in the mirror, drawing the sunglasses down quickly and looking straight into someone's eyes. Someone hot, who wanted to . . . dance.
Really, there was no reason not to at least dance. I had this foxy body; I could at least show it off and enjoy the admiration. I didn't have to go from celibate to slut in sixty seconds; I could just have some fun.
Maybe Ellery would go with me. I couldn't quite imagine him cutting loose on the dance floor, but it would be fun it he did. We could laugh and have drinks, dance a little, and I'd have an excuse to leave early if he wanted to. I hadn't had a wingman in a long time, but I thought Ell would be a good one.
There was nothing catty or competitive about Ell. We'd just have fun together; I was almost sure of it. Unless the crowds pinged his anxiety. I'd never actually seen him leave the building. He might even be agoraphobic and hadn't gotten around to telling me.
I could respect that; I didn't tell him every detail of my screw-ups. But I hoped he wasn't, and that he'd go along with me.
I fixed my hair, put on extra deodorant, and went to knock on his door. I had the page for the club I'd chosen pulled up on my phone so I could show him.
He opened the door looking yawn-y, shuffling to it in fuzzy slippers. His eyes widened a little at the sight of me. I grinned and shoved the phone into his face. "I'm going dancing. Want to tag along and keep me company?"
He blinked at me, then at the phone, struggling to focus on it. He took it from me and read the information slowly. "Dancing?" He looked up at me slowly. "You're asking me to go dancing with you?" I sensed a note of reserve.
"Just if you want to. I'm going dancing, and you can come along if you want. You'll have to get dressed quick, though." I indicated his flannel shirt and ragged jeans. "Can't go like that. I'm gonna call a cab to come and pick me up." I took the phone gently from his nerveless fingers.
He stared at me. Blinked. And then finally unfroze enough to nod. "Sure, I'll — I'll put on a suit, okay?"
"Sounds good. And comb your hair."
He blushed. "Of course." He shut the door quietly but firmly. I called the cab, checked my wallet to be sure I had enough cash for the ride, the cover charge, drinks, and tips. It was all good. I fixed my hair again quickly, used the bathroom, and went to see if he was ready. I stood there tapping on his door for a few minutes before he answered, breathing hard and rather flushed.
He held his arms out. "Do I look okay?"
He was wearing a tux. An honest to goodness tux.
"Trying to show me up, Ell?" I grinned, but it felt tight and sharp. He was very cute in a tux, but it wasn't something you could dance in, was it?
His face fell. "Um." He ran fingers back through his hair, messing it up all over again. "W-What should I wear, then?"
I sighed. "Okay, gotta be quick, but let's see . . ." I strode into his apartment. He shadowed me to the closet and stood mutely by my elbow as I flicked through his clothes. "Here. Just one of your regular suits. No tie, I think. You want to be able to loosen the collar and dance if you want to."
"I'm a good dancer," he claimed.
I refrained from rolling my eyes. Ellery wasn't the most coordinated guy in the world. He was probably all jerking elbows and sharp knees on the dance floor — if he didn't fall flat on his face. Still, I was glad he was coming with me, and I didn't want to piss him off by pointing out the unlikelihood of his claim. At any rate, he believed it, and who was I to burst his bubble?
I tried to help him dress, until he swatted my hands away with a "Would you quit?"
I went into the kitchenette and looked for a soda. I turned on his TV and flipped through channels quickly as I drank it. I paced back and forth a little as I did so.
"Are you always this restless?" asked Ellery, a grin in his voice as he walked up behind me, then slid his arms around my middle in a hug.
"Yes. I drove my teachers crazy." I swatted him off me, but not roughly. "You'll wrinkle your suit."
He snorted. "I thought you were in a hurry. Turn that off and let's go. Is my hair okay?"
I looked. He'd combed it again. It lay placid and shining, and he looked very good indeed in his suit. It fit his body so well, making him look trim and fit and perfect, instead of scrawny and too short.
I smiled at him. His big blue eyes were a perfect combination with the almost too formal suit and the soft helmet of his hair. He was just looking at me, his gaze warm and open.
"You look adorable. Let's go!"
We hurried down to the cab and tumbled in. I'd already given the address I wanted over the phone, so I didn't have the stress of having to tell the cab driver where we were going . . . and feel his reaction to it being a gay club the whole way there. If anything, I suspected he might be gay himself, because I caught him checking us out a couple of times in the
mirror.
At the club, I tipped him well and let him know I'd be calling for a ride home, and then headed in, shepherding Ellery gently with me so we wouldn't get separated. I paid both of our covers, although I'm sure Ell could've afforded his own.
"If you need to get out of here, you just tell me," I whispered to him. His eyes were darting all around, looking tense. He nodded fervently.
"Okay. I'm gonna have a drink and start dancing." Since that's all I was there for, I saw no reason to wait. I didn't have to strike up conversation, flirt, or wait for a song I was particularly good at dancing. Nope, I was just going to fling myself into the music, use up some restless energy, and get my feet wet again. It had been too long since I'd gone clubbing just to have a little fun.
Ell and I made our way to the bar. It wasn't crowded yet, and we got some looks. We did look cute together: my casual clothes and dark hair set off against his more formal suit and soft, almost-white blond hair. We looked like a treat, two cute guys, more or less pocket-sized, confident and new to the scene. Hell, yeah, we got some looks.
He didn't look shy now; Ell acted like he knew what he was doing. We sat and had a drink at the bar. Guys came up to us, but we didn't talk long. Then I was on the dance floor, only the third guy to get up for the music, and I threw myself into it.
It was great to dance again. There were enough people there that I got a lot of emotions off them, even without trying. The air was heavy with feelings, but I didn't mind that. This was a gay club, my scene and my people. They'd come here to have a good time, and most of them were. A lot of them were admiring me, too, which was great for my ego.
I admit it: I showed off. I wanted people to think I looked amazing. I wanted to see lust in those eyes, even if I didn't intend to quench it. Let them have dreams about me — let them jerk off in the shower thinking about my moves. I was hot, I was on fire, and I wanted everyone to know. And they did.
KEEP (Men of the ESRB Book 2) Page 13