Confide in Me

by Renae Kaye

  “Ed?”

  I looked up and Callum’s car was stopped—illegally—directly in front of me. He jumped out and came over, squatting down and looking into my face. I took a deep, long breath at the sight of him. I’d missed him.

  “Hey. Are you okay?” he asked me. I nodded sadly, so he held out his hand to me and pulled me to my feet. It felt entirely natural to move in closer to him. He didn’t hesitate. He wrapped both of his arms around me and I buried my face in his shoulder.

  His scent was familiar. It was sexy as all shit, but it was also comforting. My arms came around him and I drew strength from the feel of his body against mine. It wasn’t sexual. Sex was a part of it, but not at the forefront of my mind. No. Hugging Callum was reassuring and soothing. It was encouraging and sustaining. It was home and exotic.

  “Come on,” he said quietly. “You’re cold. Get in the car.”

  The sun had begun its path to sunset and the wind had picked up considerably. I shivered—this time in reaction to the cold, not emotion. I wordlessly got in the car and put my seat belt on, glad that someone else was in charge of the moment instead of me. He pulled away from the kerb and we drove in silence. I realised he had the heater on in the car and was glad. I uncurled my arms that were clenched around my chest, and began to take notice of where we were.

  “This isn’t the way to my house.”

  I turned to look at Callum and was once again struck by how cute he was. It was the first thing that had attracted me—obviously, since I right swiped him—but it wasn’t the whole attraction. I’d been attracted to guys before whose handsomeness waned the minute they opened their mouths. No—Callum was more than only looks. He was handsome, but he was also intelligent and outgoing. He was sensitive—some of the time. I had to laugh to myself at that. He was sensitive, but blind to the fact he was crapping all over my feelings with his “let’s be friends” initiative.

  “Where are you taking me?” I asked.

  He gave me a quick glance that was full of mischief. “You said you needed a drink.”

  I had. I did. “I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you, I don’t have my wallet. If you could just take me home?”

  Another glance and another cheeky grin. “No problem. I’ll take you home.” He paused. “After.”

  “After what?”

  “After you have your drink.”

  “But I don’t have any money.”

  “This drink is free. It’s no problem.”

  I looked down at my trackies, and the ratty old sneakers on my feet. “I’m not dressed enough to go to a pub.”

  “You’re perfect,” Callum assured me.

  I wished he’d say that to me and really mean it. “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t like surprises.”

  He was unsympathetic. “Deal with it.”

  Despite not feeling on top of my game due to the situation with Tammy, and despite Callum springing some sort of surprise on me, I was actually having a good time. I had a feeling that was due to Callum himself.

  We had turned into a suburban street and I looked around, trying to orientate myself. He turned up another street. A cul-de-sac. And nowhere near Callum’s house.

  “Where are we going?” I asked him again, but he didn’t answer. He pulled into the driveway of an average-looking house and turned off the ignition.

  “Come on. Alcohol is inside.”

  “Whose place is this?”

  “Justin and Rhys’s.”

  Oh, shit. The friends.

  I groaned. “Oh, no. You can’t spring me on them.”

  “Sure I can.”

  “No. You can’t.”

  Callum turned to me. “You’re a friend, right? I met you. I like you. I talk to you. You have a need for a drink and I happened to be on my way out to share some pizza and drinks with the boys. One more is not going to matter.”

  There was so much I wanted to say. That I wasn’t “just” a friend. That one more was going to matter. But I hesitated, and Callum was out of the car. I prayed to Goddess Kylie for strength.

  Dear Kylie. If you have any compassion for your gay fans, please send some of your sass and your ability to be fabulous down to me. Amen.

  I slowly followed him up the path to the front door, where he rang the bell and waited. I wiped my suddenly perspiring hands on my pants.

  The door opened. I took a deep breath and tried to smile.

  ~~~~~~~~

  Chapter Six

  What do you do if you’re confronted with a social situation you’re not comfortable with, but you badly want to impress the guy you’re with?

  Smile. The answer to that one is to always smile and bluff your way through it. And hope to hell you don’t fuck up.

  Justin, Rhys, and Brendan turned out to be pretty regular guys. Loud, welcoming, boisterous, tipsy… and obviously straight.

  Callum introduced me as, “Ed. He’s a friend who called just as I was getting in the car. He’s had a rough day, so I brought him over to have a couple of beers.”

  “Oh, good,” Rhys joked. “I thought you were about to say he was your boyfriend. Then we would’ve had to be nice to him and that would’ve been awkward.”

  The guys were gathered out the back of the house, sitting on chairs and loungers pulled up around a coffee table. Scattered over the table were beer bottles, bowls of chips, beer bottles, a bowl of peanuts, beer bottles, and an empty plate that I suspected once held sausage rolls due to the flakes of pastry I could see on it. Music was playing from a speaker system to the side of the patio area, a TV had been set up on the other side that was muted but showing a football game, and a number of miniature basketballs were lying around in odd places. I squinted at the TV to see who was playing—Collingwood and Port Adelaide—and immediately lost interest. I enjoyed a game of football, but only if West Coast were playing.

  “Have a seat, Ed,” Rhys said as he threw himself back down on a lounger. “Help yourself to a beer and some chips.”

  I selected an empty seat on its own and watched as Callum opened the bar fridge the TV was perched upon and pulled out two bottles of beer. Rhys had immediately become engrossed in the game on TV again, but Justin and Brendan looked at me, seeming friendly enough. Who would be first to speak?

  Callum moved back and offered me one of the bottles of beer. I hesitated.

  “Go on,” Justin said. “Have one.”

  I was emotionally strung out and the last thing I wanted was to force myself to drink beer. I winced. “I don’t like beer,” I whispered. “Sorry.”

  Now I was the centre of attention. Even Rhys’s head had swivelled around to look at me.

  “What do you drink then?” Callum asked, bewildered. I was a little disappointed that he didn’t remember from our date. Although it was ten weeks previous and about twenty dates ago for him.

  “Wine?” I said hopefully. “Spirits if not?”

  I glanced to the left and saw raised eyebrows on Brendan’s face and a speculative look on Rhys’s. I had a feeling I’d totally stuck my foot in it.

  “Oh.” Callum pulled back and looked at Justin, who jumped to his feet.

  “Wine. I can do that. Red or white? It’s only room temperature.”

  I shied away. “Don’t worry. I’ll… um…. Water’s fine.”

  “Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” Callum said, and hauled me to my feet. He dragged me back inside, following Justin into the house. I hadn’t appreciated the house previously, but now took a glance around and noticed there wasn’t exactly a lack of money like at my house. My house was what three adults paying off university debts while earning a little over minimum wage could afford. This house was not only bigger, but the furnishings were solid wood products, not cheap China-made stuff.

  Justin took us to a formal lounge and made for a cabinet on the far side. He slid a door open and there were sixteen bottles of wine in a built-in rack.

  “Red, right?”
Justin said as he looked over the bottles. “If you’re serving at room temperature, you should go for red?”

  “Whatever is fine,” I mumbled, feeling self-conscious. “Really. You don’t have to go to this much trouble.”

  “Nah,” Justin said agreeably. “The trouble would be having to find you a clean wine glass. I’m making you wash the glass yourself. This is Dad’s house and his wine. He told me I could drink it, but I can’t stand the stuff. So there’s no problem with you having it. Glasses over there.”

  He pointed to his right, and Callum went over and found a glass as Justin said, “Pinot Noir? That’s red, right?”

  Within five minutes Callum and Justin had me seated with a glass of red wine in my hand. Justin did actually make me wash my own glass while he hunted for a corkscrew. Then he and Callum bickered over how to open the bottle. I stood back and allowed them to figure it out on their own.

  I cautiously took my first sip, then nearly inhaled the entire glass. This was no six-dollar bottle of plonk. This was ambrosia. I wished Tammy was there to share it with me.

  We sat and chatted about the weather, the game, Brendan’s bad knee—which I came to understand meant he couldn’t play basketball with them for a few weeks—and Tammy’s allergy. There were meaningful looks between Justin, Rhys, and Brendan, and I was on my second glass of wine when Justin finally asked, “So, Ed. How do you know Callum?”

  I was hit by four sets of laser gazes. I looked at Callum for direction and he kind of gave an apologetic shrug. I assumed that they had “guessed” I was gay—not that drinking wine and having a female for a best friend was a good predictor of whether a guy preferred dick, but it was very obvious to me that these guys judged a person’s masculinity by ranking them on the beer-football-women scale.

  Which I miserably failed.

  I would’ve liked to introduce them to my friend Allan, who was a wine snob, disliked football with a passion, dressed like a European prince, got a manicure fortnightly, and used expensive facial creams, yet was straighter than an arrow.

  But I had nothing to hide, and neither did Callum.

  “I met him on a dating site,” I told them matter-of-factly. “Our date didn’t turn out the way we both wanted, so we became friends instead.”

  I saw Rhys give Brendan an “I told you so” look. Justin, however, frowned at me.

  “You guys went on a date?” he asked in disbelief.

  I looked regretfully at my glass of wine. It was obviously going to have to go to waste, although perhaps I could snag the bottle on my way out of the house in about five minutes, after we stopped yelling at each other.

  “Yes. Do you have a problem with that?” I said coolly.

  Justin looked surprised. “No. I just can’t believe that you could remain friends with someone you went on a date with and it didn’t work out.” He scoffed and grabbed his beer. “Every girl that I’ve been with, if it hasn’t worked out, I’ve never talked to them again.”

  Oh.

  Callum spoke up. “I like Ed. He’s fun. He made me watch this movie, and you won’t believe what happened in the end.”

  He launched into the retelling of how we watched In Your Eyes—he in his house, and me at mine. He joked about the messages back and forth, then how he rang me and we talked through the whole end.

  “And Ed was a total tease. He’s saying, ‘He’s not going to make it’ while the guy is trying to get on the train and I’m screaming down the phone because I’m so involved in this movie.”

  The boys were all laughing as Callum exaggerated his reactions to the movie.

  Then Rhys asked, “So if you and Ed get along so well, why aren’t you going out together?”

  If I was hoping for a chorus of hallelujahs led by Goddess Kylie, I was desperately sorry. To me it was the exact thing I had wanted to ask Callum the whole time. Why?

  We got along brilliantly. We had a lot of fun together. Yet why didn’t Callum see me as a romantic partner? I thought the sex was brilliant, but I had considered that perhaps Callum didn’t. Did he not think me attractive enough? Did he not think we were sexually compatible? To me, the chemistry was there. But why was it so one-sided?

  This time Callum looked at me, and I gave him the shrug. I wasn’t answering this question. Not only did I not know the answer, it was Callum who had decided the “friends only” rule.

  He looked uncertain. “Because we’re not,” he finally answered.

  Rhys nodded. “Is it the sex thing? Like who’s the top and who’s the bottom?”

  What?

  “What?” Callum burst out so violently that I had to assume that his friends had never spoken about this subject with him before.

  “Time to order pizza,” Justin announced, standing up and walking away.

  “What?” Rhys said in a confused manner. “I just wondered. Because if you get along so well, you’re both gay, you’re both looking, and you were matched on a dating site, then the only other thing must be the… bottom issue.”

  What?

  Callum stood abruptly and walked away too. Brendan looked distinctly uncomfortable. Rhys looked perplexed, as if he didn’t know he was doing anything wrong. I looked at the wine in my glass, gulped it down, then placed the glass on the coffee table. I sat forward and spoke to Rhys intently.

  “Look. I’m saying this because I’m a friend of Callum’s and it’s obvious he hasn’t educated you on this stuff. So, a quick rundown of the rules and I’ll be going.” I held up my fingers to count off on. I had gone into full teacher mode. “Number one, don’t ask about Callum’s sex life, or anyone’s sex life, to be clear. It’s rude. Number two, gay men don’t actually have to have anal sex to enjoy a sex life. There are plenty of couples who don’t. Number three, the majority of the men I know who are bi or gay actually like it both ways. The wonderful thing about being gay is you don’t have to remain in the same role. Straight people are not questioned about whether their boyfriend or girlfriend likes it doggie style or reverse cowboy, so why is it okay to ask a gay man that? Number four, being gay isn’t purely about the sex. Being gay is about being romantically attracted to the same gender.”

  I stopped for a breath, and then decided I’d better stop completely. Rhys was looking pale. Brendan was flushed. I stood and noticed Callum had retreated as far as the door back into the house, but was paused halfway through the doorway. He looked shocked.

  “I’m going now,” I announced to the room at large. “Thank you for having me as your guest, but I think I’d better leave so you can discuss me without me being present.”

  “Oh, no way.” It was Justin. He was standing behind Callum and gave Callum a shove in the back. “You’re not leaving now. You’re staying. I’ve just ordered you pizza and was about to ask you about your job.” He elbowed Callum aside, then pushed me back into the chair, snatching up my glass and making me hold it while he poured more wine. He gave his brother a glare. “And we’re not talking about Callum’s sex life unless you’re willing to tell us all about why Rebecca dumped you. And Angelina. Oh, yeah—and what was the name of that girl who called you ‘pathetic in bed’ and ran out our front door?”

  I could see the blush moving up Rhys’s neck but he didn’t answer, preferring to drink from his beer and turn back to the football game.

  Justin asked me what I did for work, and while I was answering, he beckoned Callum over and said, “Here—I’m in your seat.” He vacated the seat next to mine and moved back to his chair. Callum resumed his seat next to me and couldn’t meet my eyes.

  I began chatting with Justin about work, and before long Callum seemed to recover from whatever was the matter with him and joined in. Justin kept handing around the beers and topping up my glass. When the doorbell rang, Rhys flew into the house and came back balancing five pizzas.

  I excused myself to use the bathroom and took a moment to message Todd and tell him I was out with Callum. Todd replied saying that Tammy was improving, but they were admitting her for the
night. She was asleep and he was going to spend another thirty minutes with her and then head home.

  I told the boys the good news, and then we all got stuck into the pizza. Talk jumped back and forth, from various political issues, to sporting events, to cars. Then Brendan mentioned women, and things turned a little personal… helped along by the copious amounts of alcohol we’d consumed.

  “Have you had any girlfriends?” Justin asked me. I acknowledged that he was probably the least drunk of us all. My wine bottle was just about empty, and there was a box full of empty beer bottles next to the table.

  I shook my head. “Nah. I figured out early I was into guys.” I was definitely slurring my words. “I was a bit of a dork at school. I used that as the excuse why I didn’t have a girlfriend.” A sound came out of my mouth that was suspiciously like a hiccup. “I guess I’m still a dork. I still can’t find a boyfriend.”

  “You’ll find someone,” Callum said to my right.

  With the lack of inhibitions, the depression came creeping in. “Nope. I’m pathetic. No one will date me.”

  “I dated you,” he said.

  “And then dumped me,” I replied without thinking.

  “You agreed,” Callum cried.

  “What was I meant to say?” I asked.

  He opened his mouth, then shut it again. “You don’t want to be my friend?” he asked, his expression making it obvious he was hurt.

  I clumsily reached out and touched his arm. “Of course I want to be your friend. But it doesn’t mean I don’t hope for more.” Long moments passed while Callum stared into my eyes. The tension rose between the two of us and I wondered who would break first.

  It turned out to be Brendan. His beer bottle clunked loudly on the brick paving as he dropped it and started snoring.

  “Bedtime,” Justin announced happily. I considered my drunkenness and the fact that my ride home—Callum—was just as pissed as me.

  “Uber?” I slurred so badly that it came out as “Luber?”

  Justin materialised in front of me and I allowed him to help me to a bedroom. “Luber?” I asked again.