Cutting Cords

by Mickie B. Ashling

  He was still out of sorts from his encounter with Sloan, regretting his harsh words the moment they’d spilled out of his mouth. How could he be so cruel? It was obvious that he wanted the man, a no-brainer he was sexually aroused, but he refused to acknowledge that Sloan was right. He wasn’t a queer. He was bisexual; he’d admit to that much. However, hearing Sloan challenge him had just pissed him off, and he’d denied what was pretty obvious. What did Sloan expect from him? He was practically engaged, for God’s sake. Did he honestly think that he would just stand up and proudly declare he was gay?

  He didn’t know what he was anymore. All the constants and truisms in his life had been yanked out from under his feet. Sexuality was only one among the many problems he was facing. He replayed the events of the evening, trying to determine when he could have made amends. He supposed that a simple apology would have helped, but Sloan had avoided Cole after the incident in the kitchen.

  They’d stayed out of each other’s way until they stood side by side with Emily waiting for their cab. Sloan was quiet, barely participating in the conversation. He even sat in front with the taxi driver and looked out the window as the cab moved toward the club, which was located at West 51st in the Hell’s Kitchen neighborhood. Max, Tin, and a few other people were meeting them there, according to Emily. She had chattered most of the way, which was a good thing, or he would have never found out about the modeling session.

  “What about his school?” Cole whispered, trying to keep his voice down. He was grateful for the plastic divider between the front and back seat but wasn’t too sure about the level of security.

  “He can do both, Cole. Tin does it.”

  “Have you seen the pictures?”

  “Awesome,” Emily gushed, acting like Sloan’s agent.

  “That’s great,” he mused, wondering if this career choice would take off. Somehow he had a hard time imagining Joe Driscoll approving of anything that Sloan embarked on. He was mildly skeptical himself.

  “So is that who we’re meeting at the bar? The people from the photo shoot?”

  “We’re meeting Max. He’s the photographer who’s hot for Sloan, and Tin, the French kid from Pratt.”

  “Oh.” Cole was disturbed by the feelings that rushed through him when he heard Emily’s statement. He couldn’t believe he was actually jealous. Sloan had come into his life only three weeks ago, and he was already getting territorial.

  “Is Sloan attracted to him?”

  “I don’t know… possibly.” Emily sounded stricken.

  Cole realized he was intruding on a friendship, so he backed off immediately. He shrugged his shoulders and turned to face the window, mumbling, “It’s his life.”

  After that, there wasn’t much more to say. Sloan disappeared as soon as they entered the club, leaving Cole and Emily to fend for themselves.

  He looked across the dance floor to see if he could spot Sloan, but it was useless. He couldn’t see much in that heaving mass of bodies, and the feelings of helplessness and anger at all the obstacles he was facing were beginning to creep up again, negating the good things he’d accomplished today.

  “Do you want to dance?” Emily asked, intruding on his thoughts.

  “I told you I don’t dance,” Cole replied.

  “I know, but if you don’t mind my three left feet, I’ll overlook yours.”

  He shrugged, drained his glass of wine in two swallows, and let her lead them out to the dance floor. The music helped to get him in the mood, and the wine knocked the edge off his shyness. They were playing a medley of old disco sounds, the music from the eighties and nineties he’d listened to growing up with his baby-boomer parents.

  He found himself getting caught up in the rhythm, together with the crowd around him. He heard Emily yell out Sloan’s name, and she sort of pushed him across the dance floor until they were side by side with Sloan and some guy with a beard. He could see the outline of his face when he looked directly at him. He seemed older, so Cole surmised that this was the famous Max that Emily had mentioned in the cab. He wanted to shove him out of the way and just grab Sloan all to himself.

  Max had both arms draped around Sloan’s neck, and they were doing something that resembled dancing but was more about grinding their hips together. Sloan’s eyes were closed and his head was tilted up. He looked like he was high on something, but it could have just been the music getting to him. Cole was too far away to really tell. He leaned in toward Emily and asked, “Is Sloan on drugs?”

  She looked over to her right and shook her head, “I don’t think so. Maybe weed, but he doesn’t do the heavy stuff anymore.”

  Cole was silent after that and thought about Sloan and the reasons Joe had sent him to New York. He’d finally come out and told Ken, who’d quickly passed on the information to Cole, so he could watch for any signs of Sloan sliding back into the world of drugs.

  He’d been abusing tranquilizers and pain pills, having access to them for over two years while his mother was battling cancer. They had all sorts of pills lying around the house, and no one would have ever thought that Sloan was taking them almost as fast as his mother. The prescriptions were refilled without question, and it wasn’t until Kim Driscoll finally died that Joe realized that Sloan was hooked on drugs.

  His police buddies had alerted him the first time they’d picked up Sloan after getting a tip from school security. He was caught with a bag full of Xanax and Vicodin and had been detained at the station after the school had ransacked his locker. They’d let him go with a slap on his wrist, in deference to Joe’s celebrity status, but it was the start of an ongoing nightmare Joe had to deal with before Sloan suddenly decided to turn his life around. No one really knew what the catalyst was, but the kid seemed to have pulled out of it on his own. The only reason the information had been shared was because he now lived with Cole and Joe felt that he should be honest and forewarn Ken on the off chance Sloan slipped down the black hole again.

  So far, Cole hadn’t seen any signs other than the weed, and he didn’t consider that a drug. He indulged in it himself on occasion. But he knew he’d upset Sloan with his rejection, and a part of him worried that he’d trigger some need in him to go out and get high. Hell, he was trying to get drunk as well, so why should Sloan be any different?

  He felt the blood rush to his head when he saw Max lean in and start kissing Sloan. He wanted to rip his head off; instead, he turned abruptly and headed off the dance floor, leaving a surprised Emily running to catch up with him.

  “Cole, what’s the matter?”

  “Nothing. I’m sorry, Emily, I just got tired of being out there.”

  “That’s okay. Would you like to leave?”

  “Actually, I would. Do you want to stay?”

  “Do you mind?”

  “Of course not. I’ll just take a cab.”

  “Okay, Cole. Thanks for coming,” Emily said and turned away to join Sloan and his friends. She wanted to enjoy every last drop of her visit and going back to the apartment with Cole wasn’t part of her itinerary. She was leaving tomorrow and the night was still young.

  Cole speed-dialed Juliana on his way home. He was restless and horny, remnants of his tussle with Sloan. Seeing him and Max on the dance floor had only brought back the longing. He decided to try and forget this need he had for Sloan’s body and lose himself in Juliana’s arms. That had always comforted him in the past, so he asked her to meet him at the apartment. She acquiesced, as he knew she would, even though it was almost midnight. She was nothing but agreeable, and instead of this making him happy, he was irritated suddenly, half hoping she’d tell him to fuck off and get a life. The woman was such a doormat, and he wanted to scream and break something, he was so frustrated. Why couldn’t she have more balls?

  He laughed bitterly, thinking of how stupid that idea was. The only balls he was interested in were back at the club, probably being fondled by that Max person. Fucker!

  I WATCHED him walk out. He’d had enough for th
e night and so had I. My need to be loved was clouding my judgment, causing me to find emotion when there was none. Cole was a straight guy who’d fallen into my arms out of boredom and the need to explore his darker side. The idea that he’d ever consider being a part of my world was ludicrous, and I had to come to terms with it.

  Max was an easy way to forget. He was attentive and we had a chemistry going, no doubt about that. He knew which buttons to press, the one good thing about being with an experienced gay man. He would probably teach me stuff I’d never heard of, rather than me having to guide him as I did with Cole. What did it matter if I imagined Cole in my arms when I closed my eyes? Who cared that Max was my second choice? He was here and unashamed of being seen with me. In fact, he was ridiculously proud of being able to convince me to model. He treated me like his pet, showing me off to all his buddies, calling me Beauty when he made introductions. It was wonderful to be with someone who valued me for a change.

  “Come home with me, Beauty. I want to make love to you.”

  Whoa. Was I ready to jump in his bed so soon after being with Cole? Hell yes, my libido assured me. Sex would be the best way to forget Cole and those piercing blue eyes of his that incinerated me seconds before he thrust into my ass and sighed with pleasure. I groaned out loud and leaned into Max, whispering yes in his ear.

  As we made our way out of the club, I watched as if from the sidelines. Men came up to us and held Max by the hand or the arm, trying to make small talk. He was obviously a force to be reckoned with, an important person, who chose to be with me. I let it go to my head, not really thinking of repercussions. That wasn’t my style anyhow. I was all about jumping before looking, so this was normal.

  We stopped at Emily’s table. She was with Tin and another model, who was feeling him up. Emily was chatting animatedly with one of the assistants who’d been at the photo shoot earlier on, comparing notes on which guy was or wasn’t gay. They seemed to be having a great time.

  “Emily, Max and I are leaving. Do you want us to drop you off at the apartment?”

  “Don’t go,” Tin interjected. He assured me that she was in good hands. “We’ll drop her off on our way, Sloan.”

  “Em?”

  “I’ll stay.”

  I pulled my house keys out of my pocket and handed them to her. “Here, you’re going to need these.”

  “Will you be back tonight?” Emily asked.

  I looked at Max and he lifted an eyebrow.

  “Your call, Sloan.”

  “No.” My answer was firm and Emily didn’t even bother to argue. “I’ll see you sometime in the morning.”

  Max was all over me as soon as the doors of the cab closed behind us. I was high enough on weed to enjoy every bit of it, making a conscious effort to shove Cole out of my brain. I was going to enjoy my time with Max and not dwell on the what-ifs and should-haves. It was Max’s hand on my groin, his nimble fingers working my zipper, his shocked intake of breath when he saw the size of my cock.

  “Jesus Christ, kid! You should come with a disclaimer,” he mumbled, seconds before bending down and attempting to take all of me in his mouth. His statement made me smile, and I leaned back against the car seat and closed my eyes, trying to forget other lips and another voice.

  19

  “WHERE DID you go tonight?” Juliana asked moments after Cole had climaxed. He was still draped on her body, feeling the aftereffects of his orgasm.

  “I went out dancing.”

  “What?” She was shocked he’d gone out without her. “Who’d you go with and why didn’t you call me?” She shoved Cole off, plumped her pillows up against the headboard and leaned back, waiting for his answer.

  “I’m sorry. It was a spur of the moment thing.”

  “You seem to be having a lot of those lately.”

  Cole heard the accusation but shrugged it off. He stood to go to the bathroom, dropping the condom in the wastebasket along the way. He didn’t really need to go; he was just buying time, trying to avoid any sort of discussion. When he came back out, she was up and already dressed.

  “I’m going, Cole.”

  “Why?”

  “You tell me.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “You don’t seem happy to be with me.”

  “I’m fine, Juliana. I’m not in the mood to be interrogated.”

  “I’m interested in your life, Cole. Why do you think I’m interrogating you?”

  “I don’t know,” Cole answered softly. “I don’t know anything anymore.”

  She moved toward him and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing tightly against his naked body. “Don’t you know how much I love you?”

  “Do you? You have any idea what it’s going to be like once I’m blind?”

  “It will be fine, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.”

  He pushed her away with a sigh and went to lie down again. He covered his face with his forearm and was silent.

  “Cole?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Please, don’t be afraid. I’ll be here for you.”

  “I’m not afraid, Juliana. I just want to do things on my own. I don’t want you to nurse me for the rest of my life.”

  “But, Cole, there’s only so much you’ll be able to do. I can pick up the slack.”

  “Dr. Butterman seems to think differently. He says I can have a perfectly normal life if I learn certain things.”

  “Like what?” she asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed and putting her purse down.

  “I should learn Braille, for one thing. Consider the possibility of owning a guide dog, for another. Teach, after I get my masters. Learn how to take public transportation, four. Have a vasectomy, five.”

  “What? Why would you want a vasectomy? I want children.”

  “I don’t. No, let me clarify. I only want a child if I was guaranteed I wouldn’t pass on this fucked-up gene.”

  “We can have genetic testing.”

  “And you’d be willing to have an abortion if the baby carried the gene?”

  “If it’s what you want, I guess I would.”

  “Juliana, I’m not telling you to go along with whatever I say. This is a life-altering decision, one that we’d both have to agree upon. Can you handle an abortion, because I don’t think I can.”

  “Of course I can, if it’s what I need to do.”

  “Need to do?”

  “Cole, you’re obviously stressing over this, and if my agreeing to an abortion will help you overcome this hurdle so we can get married, then I agree. Besides, I doubt that I’ll need it.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I’m very healthy. I’m sure that my child will be fine.”

  Cole huffed out a bitter laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”

  “Why?”

  “Haven’t you heard anything I’ve said to you in the last year? It doesn’t matter how fucking healthy you are. I’m not!” He put his arm back over his eyes, dismissing her.

  “Are you angry at me?”

  “No.”

  “What then? Why are you being so weird?”

  “I’m not being weird. I’m just trying to get my life in order.”

  “I don’t think you love me anymore,” Juliana said softly. She reached out and touched Cole on the arm. “Look at me.”

  He moved his arm away from his eyes and turned so he was facing her, straight on. He could see her tears and felt sick to his stomach. He had no idea why he was acting this way, treating her like an enemy rather than a woman he truly cared for. Seeing her so broken up moved him to say, “I do love you, sweetheart. It’s just that we don’t seem to be on the same page anymore.”

  She began to cry and Cole reached for her and drew her close, holding her as she continued to weep gently. “Please don’t cry,” he said. “We’ll talk some more in the next few days, try and get this sorted, and then maybe we can get engaged. Our parents are going to want to milk this for all it’s worth. Parties and
planning will make everyone happy,” he said, hoping against hope that it would work out.

  She smiled through her tears. “Really?”

  “Yeah.” He nodded, feeling better already. He was going to have to move forward instead of wallowing in this sea of doubt and self-pity. “We’ll get it right, okay, babe?”

  “Okay. Do you want me to stay tonight?”

  “Sure. That would be great,” Cole answered. He waited for her to strip off her clothes again and when that was done, he moved to make room for her, taking her in his arms and holding her tightly. He wanted to make this work; he vowed to put Sloan out of his mind and to concentrate on a future with Juliana. He owed it to her and his parents.

  MAX’S APARTMENT was straight out of Architectural Digest. It was a loft, close to his studio, decorated in black, white, and red. One entire wall had a collage of his photographs, each one more amazing than the next, and I paced in front of them, trying to see if I could make out any familiar faces. There were movie stars, TV personalities, sports figures, and some people I didn’t recognize, which wasn’t surprising considering I was almost half his age. I kept moving down the length of the wall until I stopped in front of a picture that made my hair stand on end.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you knew Freddie?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t ask.”

  “I asked you if you liked Queen!”

  “And I said yes, didn’t I?”

  “You could have admitted you knew them.”

  “My clients are my clients, Sloan. I don’t advertise, nor do I discuss who’s on my wall.”

  “What the fuck, Max. Do you have any idea how much I love them?”

  He laughed and said, “I do now. Have a drink, darling. Calm down.”

  He poured us both drinks from the bar that was tucked away in a corner. The glasses were heavy and probably cost more than my entire wardrobe, but Max seemed to enjoy all the finer things in life, which made me think twice about why I was here. He could have anyone in the world. Why me?