by Kelly Fox
She sighs deeply, and I know that I’m testing her patience. “I think you’re playing fast and loose with the Four Noble Truths, but to answer your question, you start with meditation and mindfulness. Being aware of your thoughts, being aware of your surroundings. Doing so empowers you to make different decisions when you understand where you’re beginning.”
Okay, so maybe some of that makes sense. I have to figure out what I’m going to do first because eventually I’m going to have to stop lying to my family. If I become a Buddhist, do I come out as Buddhist first or gay? My father won’t be pleased either way.
She points us toward the zazen! room, and we join about a dozen other people sitting on floor poufs. It’s hard to maintain a sense of dignity while hanging out on a floor pouf, but these people are rocking the Zen vibe.
PS—Zazen is just Buddhist for meditating. Three out of ten, helluva snooze party. Not convinced. Also, removing the exclamation point for the boring thirty-minute ass mash.
But here’s the thing I’ll never admit to Una. After thirty minutes of bored-on-my-ass sitting, and for the first time since that night in Paris, maybe, just maybe… I don’t feel so fucking hopeless. And shit, if this sitting around business can make me maybe not want to die, that might be something.
Chapter Twelve
Jake
I’ve just finished a yoga class at the gym and am surrounded by enormous, muscled men with beautifully relaxed faces. It’s a helpful reminder that my life does not suck. As they make their way out the door, my sister makes her way in.
“Hey, Evie, how’s it going?”
“I’m good! Um… Nick said that y’all ran short on towels, so I brought these over. Do you need anything else?”
This visit is immediately suspicious, and I’m reminded of a certain judgmental horse. “Nope, I think we’re stocked up. Did you come all the way over here just for the towels?”
She twirls a section of her lavender hair in her fingers and smiles. “You know me well, brother. Mind joining me in the kitchen?”
We walk across the brightly lit gym space, gingerly avoiding the Bash Brothers, who seem to be in the middle of an argument. One is a medical doctor, and the one with the slight mole above his lip is an engineer. If they’re fighting about who’s hotter, they can stop arguing now; we can pretty much call it a tie. Evie and I have to negotiate around the door to get us both in the kitchen at the same time while the door is closed. I hate this tiny fucking kitchen.
“Is this about the location I’m going to check out? I know it’s more east than south, but I think it makes sense—”
She waves her hand at me dismissively. “I don’t have any problem with that, Jake. Makes the most sense. If we can have the pizza shop and gym locations close to each other, then it’s less driving through crazy-ass traffic. I’m not here for that, though.”
That’s because I’m good at my job, even on the days when I hate it.
I stitch my eyebrows together, not sure what to expect. “Then why the cloak-and-dagger meeting in the kitchen?”
Her expression is thoughtful. “You sure there’s nothing you wanna share with me, little brother?”
I think about it for a moment. I know she spent Sunday evening with Ten and Penny, who live over by Washington Square.
Shit.
“Did you see me coming out of the Zen Center? Please tell me you didn’t say anything to Dad. Like, he’s been surprisingly cool with the gay thing, and I wanted to wait a while before I told him about this. Did you know that Christians can also be Buddhists? Not that I’m all that much of a Christian. But I haven’t abandoned anything, either.”
Wow, holy prattling nonsense. What the fuck was that about?
Her eyes narrow in confusion. “No… wait. What the hell are you talking about?”
“Evie, I’m… a Buddhist.”
She makes a funny face, one eyebrow up, one eye closed in concentration, a confused look on her mouth. “Yeah, I know.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. I mean… I suspect that you aren’t a particularly good one, with your love of meat and cursing. But you seem so much happier. So… yay? I guess?”
“Neither of those things is expressly prohibited, sis. Anyways, never said I was a perfect Buddhist.”
“I don’t know much about Buddhism, but I’m pretty sure perfection isn’t the point.”
“True, but, then… why are we in the kitchen?” I ask, sliding my finger under my collar.
She nudges me with her shoulder. “Well, a very familiar, very hot seven-foot man was seen leaving your condo in the wee hours a few mornings ago, and I’ve been waiting for you to catch me up on the relative details, but you’re not giving up the goods. So, what’s that about?”
I feel my face blush furiously, but I school my expression as much as possible. “It’s not like that, Evie.”
“Not like what?”
“Well, we didn’t… you know. It wasn’t, um. It wasn’t romantic, is what I’m saying.” Actually, it was hella romantic. What it wasn’t was expressly sexual.
“Euww, I don’t need to know how romantic or not the sex is.”
I bring my hand to my eyes. She is so embarrassing sometimes. “No! That’s what I’m saying! It wasn’t about sex. Like, at all.”
“Mmmm, okay. What was it about? And why was he doing the walk of shame at four forty-five in the morning?”
Wow, he’d stayed much later than I’d realized. “When he drove me home, we went on a walk and he tucked me into bed…”
Evie’s squeal of happiness interrupts me, and I hold up my hand again. “I’m telling you, it’s not like that. But you saw how bad my reaction was to the glasses and the noise. I could tell that I was in for more night terrors, you know, the bad ones. And he wanted so much to help me, so I asked him to stay with me until I fell asleep. I didn’t expect him to stay so late. And, you know, no night terrors. Yay.”
“So, what you’re telling me is that this isn’t the beginning of a great new relationship, that it’s just one friend helping another?” Her look is incredulous.
I bite my lower lip. “At this point, yes.”
“Just at this point?” She does the gimme gesture with one hand, the other on her hip. I don’t have any defense against her in this stance.
“I’m not trying to assume anything. And… for his sake, I’m going to ask you to not assume anything, either. He’s got a lot to lose.”
She snorts and shakes her head, as though I’m a pitiable fool. Which, to be fair, I probably am. “What does he have to lose? He’s a millionaire many times over, for cripe’s sake. He’s fine, I promise.”
“Yeah, but he’s still in the market to, you know, make cash I’m sure. I’m surprised he’s not doing stuff with bit parts in movies and guest spots on Saturday Night Live, or whatever.”
“Oh, please. Anybody who sees how he acts around you knows that he would give up those things in a heartbeat.”
“But I wouldn’t want him to give up those things for me. You know he’d be great at that, and he’s a public figure, so everything has to be handled delicately.”
Her eyes go shiny. “But you’re… you’re willing to handle things delicately?”
Damn Evie and her direct questions. If it weren’t for that whole policy of rigorous honesty, I’d wish for the ability to lie to my sister. “Yeah… I think I am.” My cheeks are still blazing red, but I know that she can see my determination in my eyes.
“And we’re sure he’s somewhere on the rainbow spectrum.”
“He hasn’t said as much in words, but I almost got it out of him on our walk.”
Her smile brightens, and she pulls me in for a hug. My sister, I swear to god, gives the best damn hugs. It’s like she’s trying to infuse you with every bit of love and confidence she has in your worth and abilities.
“I want you to know how proud I am of you, and how happy I am for you, and I know that nothing’s been written in stone, but that you’re wi
lling to pursue this… It’s a big step, broseph. I’m so, so grateful for your recovery. You deserve so much more than the revolving door of mediocre men I’ve been seeing you with.”
I blush a little, and she releases me, patting my face.
I swear Evie is the only one who can get these truths out of me.
Jean-Pierre
I open the kitchen door and nearly take out Evie. “Je suis vraiment désolé! Est ce que ça va?”
Evie is momentarily confused, and Jake leans over and whispers into her ear. She replies, “Oh, I’m fine, Jean-Pierre, the door barely grazed me.”
I hug her and apologize again, this time in English. I’ve walked in on a private conversation, and I’m guessing that I was the subject, based on their matching flushes. I think back to a few days ago and wish I’d been there when he woke up. His face in sleep is angelic and deserves to be caressed and kissed; his body against mine felt so good that thinking about it now threatens my dignity in soft pants.
I crack my neck and try to bring myself back to the present moment. “I’ll be out of your hair in a moment, I just wanted to get myself a cup of tea.”
She smiles up at me and pats my face. “Oh, we’re done in here. I’ve made my rounds and have to get back to the shop and get the specials ready for my ten-o’clock folks.” She looks at her brother, and meaning silently passes between them, meaning I would give my bank account to know. “Wouldn’t want to withhold something necessary from those who deserve it.”
With that, she’s gone in a cloud of fancy perfume, purple hair, and red lips. I wonder if she isn’t an enchantress. I smile at Jake, and he bows his head, the tiniest, most microscopic smile on his usually disgruntled face. I brush against him to close the door behind us and don’t move that far back from him once it’s shut.
“How did you sleep last night?”
Jake looks up at me and takes a nervous step back. “I, uh, okay. Though not as good as the other night.”
To be fair, I am taking up a lot of the space in this small kitchen, and I sense that he is claustrophobic, or something like it. I step back and smile. “Whenever you need a very large pillow to keep the nightmares away, then I am at your service.”
He doesn’t acknowledge the invitation, instead gesturing to the door, saying, “Uh, I’ve got to get to the next errand on my list.”
I open it for him and let him walk under my arm. He pauses for the briefest moment as he passes me, taking a deep breath. He spares me a look that lasts a microsecond, yet punches me in the chest with the force of a donkey kick, then ducks his head and moves quickly through the gym.
I meant to ask him about a dinner I’m attending next month, but he’s too fast, and I can tell that he needs oxygen and sunshine.
Chapter Thirteen
Jean-Pierre
After a long day of practice with the UT men’s basketball team, I roll up to my condo rental on Rainey Street and leave my SUV with the adorable valet, Colin, who always turns a bright red when he sees me. Instead of going up to my place, I stroll to the back of the reception area into one of the lounges and pull out my phone. Scout had said something about her cousin working way too many hours, and I knew I could do something about that.
“Roly, buddy—what are you up to?”
We haven’t hung out in a while, and his chuckle sounds self-assured. “Is this the implacable, the infamous, the very Canadian Jean-Pierre Sehene?”
I smile at his description and answer, “You know it is. What are you up to tonight?”
“Oh, the usual. Trying to decide if I want to go the gym and take down the new cub who just signed up, or go help Scout with the new construction plans. What are you doing?”
“J’ai faim. Wanna join me?”
“That means you’re hungry? Maybe?”
I roll my eyes. “Your French is a disgrace, Roly.”
“This is true, but my restaurant game is on point. You’re on Rainey Street, right?”
“Oui.”
“Have you been to Bangers yet?”
“No. Do I want to know what they are banging?” I ask, laughing at my own joke. He’s a terrible influence, Roly is.
“It’s a sausage restaurant.”
“Uh, Roly…”
“Truly, Jean-Pierre. They make the best sausage! You’ll love it.”
“If you say so.”
“I do!”
“Then… that sounds like a plan, mon ami.”
“Mind if I bring Nick? He and Elijah are finally allowing a small crack of daylight between the two of them, and I’d like to take advantage.”
“Of course! The more the merrier,” I say, realizing how much I want to talk to them about my plans.
Exactly thirty minutes later, I’m hanging around the front porch of Bangers Sausage House & Beer Garden when Roly and Nick walk up. Both are extremely handsome men, and the big dude at the door gives Roly a once-over and, if I’m not mistaken, his number.
Nick looks around, smiling. “The way this area has grown is insane. Rainey Street used to be a couple of old houses, and look at it now.”
I think about the artist vibe on this street and the large spare room with the great lighting in my condo that is too big for one person (but perfect for two), and I smile. “I like living here—the cool old houses mixed with the big new construction—it’s very Austin. Lots of personality. I’ve decided to make it my goal to check out every restaurant up and down the street.”
“Ah! Then you’ll be able to check one more restaurant off of your list. This place is so good, I find myself craving sausage at least once a week,” Roly says, a sly grin appearing on his face.
He’s incorrigible, and I can’t help but laugh.
We find our way to the picnic table outside and place our drink order with one of the roving waiters. I’m asking Nick, who is a registered physical therapist, for his advice about a particularly nasty ankle sprain one of the young men on my team just suffered, when Lucas walks up, looking awkward.
“Hey, Roly, Nick, this is Lucas Gibbons, that conditioning coach we stole from Northwestern.”
Nick’s jaw gets impossibly more square, and he asks, “Does this one know to keep his hands off of what doesn’t belong to him?”
Lucas, who’s a year or two younger than me and almost as tall, looks at me with wide, pale eyes, and I chuckle. “Don’t worry about Nick. Your predecessor hit on Nick’s boyfriend and had a hard time accepting no as a complete answer. Turns out, he was just as problematic everywhere.”
“I- I would never.”
Nick and Roly laugh, then shake hands with my new friend and invite him to join us. His long limbs are awkward as he sits at the picnic table, and I wonder how he ever made it in basketball. Once we’re settled in, Roly claps his hands to get our attention. “Okay, now that we’ve hazed the new guy, let’s enjoy the rest of our evening. So! What were we talking about? Oh yeah, bears.”
We were not talking about bears, but it’s a commendable persistence. “We were talking about sausage, actually,” I say, leering at my friend. “And Nick was about to beg you to stop fucking our clients, or he’s going to limit the number of bears who are allowed in.”
Lucas chokes on his own spit, and Roly laughs, hard. “I think we’re corrupting poor Lucas here,” he says, then shrugs, insouciant. “Pete, Austin is my hunting ground, every square inch of it, including our gym. I’ve got this place wired, with people all over telling me where all the hot bears are. I cannot be limited by my cousin’s imagination.”
Nick slumps forward and gently bangs his head on our picnic table. I pat his shoulder and then pile on, just because it’s fun. “So, I’d be remiss if I didn’t tell you about a hot bi-bear who’s going to be moving here in a few short weeks, no?” I ask, grinning.
Nick groans and joins the conversation. “Why are you encouraging this behavior?”
Roly smacks his cousin on the arm. “Shut it, primo.” He gives me the grabby-hands gesture. “Tell me about this bi-be
ar, Pete. I need the deets, yesterday.”
Turning to Nick, I say, “You have to admire his dedication.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. As with everything else, he’s overdedicated.”
“You might know my friend already. I think he went to school with Scout, so I think that means he also went to school with y’all, correct?”
Roly cracks up, pounding the table with his fist. “Pete, did you just say y’all?”
“Why do people laugh when I say that? Also, I can keep my bi-bear for someone who appreciates my attempts to assimilate.”
“No, no—I take it back! Say y’all all you want. And yes, all of the cousins went to the same school together, though I was a few years behind.”
“His name’s Heath Treadway. He’s about Scout’s height, really strong, has a gorgeous bubble butt, a really sexy hairy chest, and, just like you like it, a nice, round belly.”
I expected a squeal of glee from Roly, but what I see is Roly hanging on to Nick’s arm, with both of them gaping at me. Lucas, who’s been really quiet, has thinned his lips and is looking wide-eyed in my direction.
I check my shirt. “What?”
Roly ignores me and shakes his brother’s arm. “I told you the eyeliner sealed the deal, didn’t I? Gimme my five dollars. Gimme!”
Nick rolls his eyes and pulls a five-dollar bill out of his wallet, handing it over to Roly.
“Um, what just happened?”
Roly runs the five-dollar bill under his nose, inhaling his win. “You just said that Heavy has a bubble butt and a really sexy chest. That’s some seriously gay shit right there.”
“Who’s Heavy?”
“Heath, you chucklehead. And yeah, we know exactly who he is. I had the biggest crush on him in high school. I was a shit to him, of course, but Heavy’s bi and coming to town… This means I can make it up to him! And Pete here finally admitted that he likes the boy parts.” Roly rubs his palms together. “This is gonna be so good!”