by Mathew Ortiz
“Thanks for dinner, golden rod.” He pushed passed me. “Oh and don’t call me… ever.” Boone marched away. He climbed into his car then peeled out of the parking lot in a squeal of tires, leaving me angry. Angry at Peter for being such a jerk, angry at Boone for not listening and angry at myself… because what if what had Peter said was true?
*
I’m going nuts—freaking nuts. Here I am at work, trying to be productive and all I can think about is Boone. Boone ‘aneurysm causing’ Myer. It had been three weeks since the Dubonny debacle and he wouldn’t take my call and I as much as I tried I couldn’t get him out of my mind. Sighing, I punched up my email and attempted to sift through them.
Junk. Adverts. Yes to that. No, no, no to that.
I was almost done when the last e-mail brought me to a screeching halt. It was from Tim. My cursor hovered over the delete tab for a full ten seconds. I didn’t need to hear from him. I didn’t need the fresh pain. I didn’t need this—I opened the mail.
Dear Robbie,
If you don’t read this letter, I wouldn’t blame you but I had to send it. I’m living in Charlotte now and a few weeks ago I was rushed to the hospital.
There’s no way to say this nicely. I’m HIV positive. I don’t know when I contracted it. All I know is I have it. Given our… history, I thought you should know so you can get tested. I’ve fucked up my life and all I can hope is that I haven’t fucked up yours. I’m so sorry for hurting you. Breaking up with you was the stupidest thing I have ever done. Perhaps, I’m being punished for my sins and if so I deserve it. I ruined the best thing in my life. I loved you, Robbie and I know you loved me. Please don’t hate me and I hope one day we can talk as friends.
Tim
I tapped the delete button and marveled I was able to hit it because my hands shook so much. Acid bubbled up in my throat and I tore out of my chair. I raced to the men’s room and barely made it to the stalls as my breakfast made a return journey. My guts heaved, my chest twisted and I aimed the contents of my stomach into the porcelain bowl. Water droplets hit my face and I recoiled even as I hurled. I emptied my stomach until only bile remained, acidic on my tongue. I panted and my ass thudded onto the floor where I lay with my head on my arm on the edge of the bowl.
This can’t be happening. It can’t.
Memories flooded my mind and I replayed each moment Tim and I had together. I only topped, yet I can’t be one hundred percent sure we used condom’s every time. Tim and I were each other’s firsts. The only difference is I stayed true. I chided myself for the horrid thoughts going on in my head. Part of me was so angry that he had endangered my life and the other part hoped the horrible disease had only him and not me.
A drop of vomit clung to the corner of my mouth and I flicked it away with a finger. The smell made my stomach roll all over again. Cold sweat chilled my skin and I pulled my knees up to my chest. Hot tears wet my slacks as I cried. Cried for Tim and his struggle with his new life. Cried for the loss of my first love and the finality of it. Cried because I couldn’t tell anyone. My dad’s recovery took precedence and if I told Oscar, he’d slip without meaning to. I couldn’t burden Emmett or Alex with this and no way was I going to call my mother.
I had to get tested. My anxiety ratcheted up and I fished my phone out of my back pocket. Flipping on a search engine, I tapped out ‘HIV testing facilities.’ Five places popped up within ten miles of me. The first three were out of the question, someone might see me. The fourth lay in a sketchy area. The fifth would have to do. Pushing off the floor, I staggered to my feet and walked out of the stall to the sink. The face in the mirror shocked me. Pale and damp, my hair had fallen across my face, my lips were red from upchucking and my eyes were bloodshot. Turning on the tap, I scooped up a handful of water and knocked it back. Swishing the water around my mouth, I leaned down and spat it out. I splashed some on my face, the coolness easing my eyes and clearing my head. The paper towel’s stiffness scored my face, leaving behind a pinkish hue to my skin and I winced. I raked my fingers through my hair and tried to put it back into order.
Damn… I look awful.
I smoothed out my shirt and slacks and hurriedly made my way back to my office. Thankfully, I spotted Spin trooping down the hall. I dashed to my desk, grabbed my laptop and stuffed it in my bag. I took the exit at the back of the office and walked across the parking lot to my car. Hopping in, I buckled up, started the car, pulled out of the lot and into the afternoon Atlanta traffic.
My phone chirped and I tapped the console of my Army green Rubicon. “Hello, Evan.”
Wow, I sound so calm!
“Hi, Robbie. I called because Flip, Peter and I are going to do dinner at Whisperer’s Green. I’ve made reservations for four. Are you in?” Per his highness’ decree, Evan assumed I’d be free and he was right. I sighed and flicked my turn signal as I answered him.
“Why not. Time?”
“Eight.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Good. See you then.” And he hung up.
Why in the hell am I going out with them?
Today of all days I really wanted to go home, crawl under the covers and eat Fritos and Bean dip until I exploded. I prayed that Evan would dial his bitch o’meter back during dinner. I couldn’t take another evening of his snarkiness, especially tonight.
Pulling into the parking lot of the free clinic, I parked and killed the engine. I tried to get out of my car but my legs and hands refused to cooperate. Puffing out a big breath, I opened the door, got out, locked my car and walked up the path to the clinic. As I reached for the door handle, I noticed how badly my hands shook. My whole life had been turned upside down. My throat ached and I swallowed hard.
What if I have it?
I squelched the thought. I didn’t even have any results yet. I yanked opened the door, took a cleansing breath and marched in. The antiseptic air hit me like a wall and my stomach rolled dangerously again. The waiting room was empty save for the receptionist who looked like a grandmother. She peered up from her paperwork and smiled.
“Good Afternoon. My name’s Aida, how can I help you?” Blue eyes sparkled and the corners of her eyes crinkled. She reminded me of Aunt Mabel and the lump in my throat grew bigger.
“I-I.” My voice hitched and my fingers were blanched white from the death grip I had on the edge of the desk.
“Take a deep breath, sweetie.” She patted my hand and waited.
“My-my ex-um-I need an HIV test,” I blurted out and clapped my hand over my mouth to keep from crying. Tears welled in my eyes much to my mortification and I started to shake violently. Aida’s gaze widened in alarm and she walked around the desk. She took me by the elbow, led me to a chair and sat next to me.
“Breathe,” she gently ordered and I nodded. I gasped twice and tried to slow my breathing as fat tears splashed onto my shirt. “Tell me what’s going on.” I shook my head but she tapped my hand with a red tipped finger. “I’m not judging, but talkin’ about it would help.” She smiled at me and I lost it. I rambled on, telling her about Tim and how he broke my heart and how scared I was. She listened, nodded, tsked at the appropriate moments and continued to pat my hand. Her kindness eased my anxiety. “Are you ready to take the test? We offer the Elisa test and the rapid result test. Elisa will be ready within forty-eight hours and the rapid in less than a half hour. When was the last time you and Tim had sex?”
“God, it’s been a long time. Over two years.” I gulped and ran my fingers through my hair. “I want both.”
“Your choice. I need you to fill out the paperwork.”
I nodded mutely and she shuffled back to her desk, returning a few moments later with the consents. It took me about five minutes to fill out the forms and she took them for processing. I sat quietly and attempted to keep calm. The click of the door made me jump like a scalded cat. Aida motioned for me to follow her through the door leading to the back of the clinic.
“Come on back, Robbie.”
*
Sweat stung my eyes and I puffed out a lungful of air. My legs burned and my pulse roared in my ears. The steady thump of my trainers hitting the treadmill created a soothing rhythm. Running cleared my head and helped me organize my thoughts and most days I ran five miles in my neighborhood. I kept my gym membership mainly to lift weights. My dad worked out every day and I’d joined him when I moved in with him as a teenager. He ran each morning except Sunday and lifted five days a week. He was nearing fifty and had the body of a thirty-year-old and I wanted to follow in his toned footsteps.
Even though I hated working out, I liked how my body had changed over the years. I was in decent shape from track and wrestling during high school. However I wanted more muscle and over the last two years I’d packed it on in spades.
Perhaps it was sexual frustration. I hadn’t dated any guys since Tim. My whole life was about finishing school and I’d poured all my energy into it. Any spare time I had, I spent exercising. My body fat was low, my arms huge, my shoulders were as wide as my dad’s and my stomach sported a nice six-pack. My legs were tight and my ass looked like it was carved out of granite. Was I obsessed with how I looked? Maybe. Did I give a rat’s ass? No.
The treadmill pinged drawing my attention. The downhill portion of my workout started and the speed slowed. Ten minutes later, the stinging spray of the gym shower soothed my sore muscles. Rinsing off, I wrapped a towel around my waist and padded out to my locker.
Negative… I’m negative.
The doctor at the clinic had read me my results and I nearly collapsed in the chair. Relief flooded me and I shook his hand. Doctor Franz warned me that the ELISA results would be back within forty-eight hours. He explained that since it had been so long since I’d slept with Tim and because I hadn’t had any unsafe sex that he was ninety-nine percent sure the rapid test results were conclusive. He advised me that the office would call me to let me know the follow up results.
I wasn’t totally out of the woods yet. I thanked him and, on my way out, Aida gave me a quick hug. The massive weight I’d carried into the clinic had evaporated and I wanted to shout for joy. I made it to my Rubicon on shaky legs and sat for twenty minutes trying desperately to get myself under control. The afternoon had waned but my nerves blazed raw, so off to the gym I went. A good run would clear my mind and center me.
Toweling off, I slipped on a pair of green plaid shorts, a v-neck T-shirt and my favorite tan loafers. No underwear for me, they chaffed my junk and I hadn’t worn any since I hit my last growth spurt around sixteen when my cock and balls filled out. The clock on the wall read four in the afternoon and my dinner with the guys was fast approaching.
Better get cracking.
I booked it out of the gym and, on the way to my car, I caught a glimpse of a face I recognized out of the corner of my eye and skidded to a halt on the sidewalk.
Boone Myer sat in a café across from the gym’s parking lot and he wasn’t alone. A young blond man sat across from him and they were holding hands.
Hands!
Something the blond said must have been funny because Boone laughed, his free hand over his chest, mouth wide and eyes shut. The only sounds I heard were the cars whizzing by and the blood rushing in my ears.
He’s on a date? That fucking asshole!
Anger simmered, then boiled in my gut and I saw red. I dashed across the street, barely mindful of the traffic, flung open the door to the café and stomped over to where they sat. Boone’s back was to me but I watched as the blond man covered his mouth and giggled.
Seriously?
Granted the guy was cute if you like the boy next door type. He had sandy blond hair and a fair complexion, moderately hip glasses with square black frames.
He’s nowhere near as good looking as me!
First off the guy was too thin in my opinion and what was up with that mall haircut?
Boone laughed again and my temper snapped. Seething, I marched over to their table and when I reached it, they both stopped talking, their expressions questioning. Boone looked at me from under the brim of the baseball cap so I could barely see those big brown eyes of his. The scrawny blond’s green gaze did the same and the urge to beat him around the head with his chair flared in my chest.
“I guess you prefer nerdy blonds?” I accused and Boone blanched.
“Excuse me?” Confusion flitted over his face and the blond nibbled his lower lip.
“I can’t believe you!” I snarled and Boone jerked back. “You tell me you don’t like me but here you are with an emaciated version of me. What the fuck? You got your pound of flesh and you move straight on to your next conquest?”
“Hey!” The blond objected but I dismissed him with a loud snort.
“Dude, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Boone frowned and I raged as I saw he hadn’t let go of the blond boy’s hand. My humiliation burned hot and all I wanted to do was hit him. He was no better than Tim. As soon as my back was turned, Boone had moved onto the next available body and had the nerve to pick a poor man’s version of me. My body shook from barely controlled fury and I snapped.
“Take that damn cap off!” And I slapped the cap from his head… and long brown hair fell across his forehead like a curtain across his forehead. Boone’s chair screeched loudly as he jumped up.
“What the fuck?” Long brown bangs fanned his face and my mouth suddenly went dry.
“Boone?” I asked tentatively.
“No.” He snatched his cap from where it had fallen on the table, smoothed his hair down and shoved it back on his head. “Name’s, Cotton!”
Oh fuck!
Boone had a brother named Cotton, an identical triplet. And said triplet looked like he was about to rip my arms out and beat me to death with them.
“Oh my god I’m so sorry!” I blurted out. “I thought you were Boone.”
My embarrassment hit an all-time high. I had just made an epic scene in the café, if all the googling eyes and pin-drop silence were any indication. The blond guy’s face was stained scarlet and a deep angry red suffused Cotton’s cheeks. Now that I studied him closely, I noticed that his nose pinched in tighter along the bridge and his beard was rounder and fuller than Boone’s. I also saw he had fully tattooed sleeves, even down to the top of his hands. Boone only had them on his biceps.
“Who the hell are you?” he barked.
“I’m so sorry. My name’s Robbie Gaither, Martin Gaither’s cousin.” I hurriedly explained and some of the tension in Cotton’s shoulders evaporated, along with the clenched fists. “Boone’s doing the wedding cake for my cousin Emmett.”
Cotton relaxed completely and I let out the breath I’d been holding. The audience must have grown tired of us already as the clink and tink of silverware and cups resumed.
“Oh yeah, Boone mentioned you.” Cotton’s mouth twitched.
“Cotton?” The guy tentatively asked and Cotton promptly forgot about me and gave the guy his full attention.
“Sorry, Caleb. Seems like a case of mistaken identity.” Cotton reached over and covered Caleb’s hand possessively. “He mistook me for Boone.”
“Oh.” Caleb’s relief was palpable. “I’ve seen pictures. I can see that happening.” He held out a hand. “Caleb Jaspers.” Damn, even after my being so nasty to him, he remained polite.
I shook his hand. “Umm… Robbie Gaither. Nice to meet you.” Gawd, could this get any more embarrassing?
“So you thought Boone was cheatin’ on you?” Cotton said and his eyes twinkled.
What did he know?
“N-no. Nothing like that-I-I.” And now I’m a stuttering, bumbling moron. My cool professional image I so carefully maintained flew right out the window.
“Then why’d ya get your dander all up?” Cotton slyly asked and now I knew how much Boone had told him—too much. “Seems like you were jealous.”
“Jealous, me? Ridiculou
s! I was-I was—”
“Right.” He drew out the word and my face flamed hot again.
“Sorry, to interrupt your date. I have to run. Nice meeting you, Caleb.” I started to leave and paused to ask hopefully, “You won’t mention this to Boone, will you?”
Cotton grinned like the devil himself. “Of course I will. As soon as you leave, I’m callin’ him.” He snickered and I groaned. “Oh, he is so gonna love this.”
I sighed and waved to them as I left. Nothing, nothing was going right today and to make matters worse, as I gazed back over my shoulder, Cotton was already on his phone. He spotted me and gave me a thumbs-up.
Aw hell!
Chapter 8
Boone
“Uh huh. Yep. Really? Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. I promise. I will. I will! Geez, lighten up, Cotton!” I barked.
I paced the bakery’s office as I spoke to him. He had called me right after his date with Caleb, yup finally got a name, and told me how Robbie had burst in on them and made a right fool of himself. Ole Robbie boy’s green-eyed monster had reared its ugly head. He was jealous. Me? I was tickled pink but I was still mad at him. What his friend said about me had hurt something fierce. Robbie had called, texted and emailed trying to explain and I’d refused to respond. Sure, Robbie had a smoking hot body, was witty and charming and understood my need to succeed, and the sex so far had been outrageous! But I wouldn’t date a man who didn’t want to be seen in public with me. I wouldn’t be anyone’s secret boyfriend.
Sitting down at the desk, I went over the books for the month and sighed happily because we were solidly in the black. Kamal, my accountant and manager had informed me the numbers were ready and that I should, and I quote, get off my artistic ass and check the numbers. I will admit I hired Kamal to take care of the business side of things after I bought 350 Degrees because numbers were not my strong suit.
The figures eventually blurred and I pinched the bridge of my nose as my eyes went all buggy on me. I couldn’t focus, mainly because Robbie Gaither filled my thoughts. The phone call from Cotton had shifted my view a touch. If Robbie didn’t care, he wouldn’t get jealous.