As I Am

by A. M. Arthur

  This was what sex was always supposed to be. This was what it would be from that moment onward. It was pleasure and passion and taking care of each other. Creating something so beautiful that no one else would ever share in it. This was theirs.

  This was love.

  Will wasn’t sure when the tears began to fall, only that Taz was kissing them away while he thrust inside him with long, claiming strokes. They made love quietly, earnestly, with no words needed. Will’s second climax was quieter, but no less powerful, and Taz came moments later, his eyes never straying from Will’s.

  “I see you,” Taz whispered.

  Will stroked Taz’s face. “I see you, too.”

  They curled into each other, sticky and sated and exhausted beyond words. They exchanged gentle kisses and touches as they sought to get comfortable in each other’s arms. Will pressed his ear against Taz’s chest and he swore, as he started to doze, that for a little while their hearts were beating as one.

  Chapter Seventeen

  For two weeks, Will’s biggest complaint about his life was the Carter House curfew. Every night, he begrudgingly left Taz’s bed and returned to his, seven blocks away. His status as a resident there wouldn’t affect his disability payments, so he wouldn’t be bereft if he said fuck the rules, and then got kicked out. But he and Taz hadn’t really talked about the whole living-together thing since the first time Taz brought up a place of their own, and Will didn’t want to assume Taz would be okay with Will inviting himself to live in Taz’s apartment.

  So they both put up with spending their nights apart, because they spent as many daytime hours together as possible. Not only in Taz’s bed (or sometimes on the couch), but also outside the apartment. Small excursions by bus to different places around the city. A diner for lunch. A thrift store to find artwork for Taz’s walls. The Brandywine River Walk on a day that wasn’t unbearably hot and humid. For September, the weather was truly awful.

  Will had canceled two appointments in a row with Dr. Taggert. Partly because he wanted to spend every possible moment with Taz, and partly because he was scared that Dr. Taggert might say something to break the bubble of joy that Will had existed in since the night all his walls came down.

  The third week, he went. Gina smiled from behind her desk while he signed in. After waiting less than a minute, she told him to go on in.

  Dr. Taggert stood near his desk, hands loosely clasped in front of him. His expression was mostly neutral, but they’d known each other long enough that Will could tell he was trying not to frown. Not to show how worried he was.

  “Will, it’s good to see you,” he said.

  “Thanks.” Instead of his usual spot, Will perched on the edge of one of the sofas. It forced Dr. Taggert onto the opposite sofa, so he could maintain the eye contact he liked so much. “Sorry if I worried you by not showing up the last two times.”

  “Can you tell me why you canceled our appointments?”

  “Honeymoon phase.”

  Dr. Taggert tilted his head but didn’t ask for him to expand upon his answer. Instead, he said, “You’re not wearing your sweatshirt.”

  Will looked at his T-shirt and shorts. At some point, he’d stopped wearing baggy clothes that covered his whole body. “You’re right. I’m not ashamed of it anymore, I guess.” He was putting on weight, gaining defined muscle tone in his legs and biceps. Nothing could make him taller, but he was okay with that.

  “Why were you ashamed of your body before?”

  “Seriously?”

  “I want to hear you say it.”

  Fine. “Because of the rapes. Because of the anorexia. Trying to kill myself. The anonymous hookups. All of it made my body feel weak. Dirty. Used up. But those things don’t define me anymore. It’s the only body I’ll ever have, and it’s mine. Not theirs.”

  “What led you to this conclusion?”

  “A lot of things, but mostly Taz. I told him everything. The whole story about what my mother did to me, and he didn’t leave. He kept on loving me.”

  Dr. Taggert’s mouth twisted around like he was trying hard not to smile. “Do you love him, as well?”

  “Yes. We love each other. And we made love, too, and it was nothing like I thought it would be.”

  “Can you be more specific?”

  Will didn’t really want to discuss the details of his sex life with his shrink anymore, but this part was important. “I’ve spent the last five years of my life believing my sole purpose was to bend over and let people fuck me. But with Taz...he wants to look me in the eye. He sees me, and not just my ass. Hell, our first time I topped him. Before Taz, I never thought I could do that. Like, I literally thought it wasn’t allowed, because I’m the tiny one and it’s all I’ve ever done. It all sounds so stupid saying it now. But he’s helped me break down every bad thing I thought about myself.” He grinned. “I’m starting to see the guy that Taz sees when he looks at me.”

  “I can’t begin to tell you how happy I am to hear you say that,” Dr. Taggert said, not hiding his smile this time. “And I truly hope you mean it.”

  “I do. And I’m helping Taz, too. We’re going out more, in public. He’s less self-conscious, and he’s only had one small episode while we were someplace unfamiliar.”

  “What about your own panic attacks?”

  “Fewer and farther between. I mean, a couple of good fucks doesn’t make PTSD go away. I know it’s something I have to work on for the rest of my life. We both do. But it’s better. So much better.”

  “I’m glad. I’m also glad you’re aware that while falling in love can help tremendously, it isn’t a magical cure.”

  “I do know. Life isn’t a romance novel. It’s more like an obstacle course.”

  “I think that’s a pretty apt description.” Dr. Taggert’s smile shifted into a more neutral expression. “Have you had any updates about the search for Christopher Mayes?”

  “No. He’s probably long gone. I don’t want to dwell on that anymore. If Detective Morrell finds him, fine. If not? Life goes on. I don’t want my past controlling my present anymore.” He’d even given more thought to contacting Sophie Horowitz about her psychology thesis, but hadn’t made any firm decisions.

  “I think that’s an incredibly healthy perspective.”

  “It controlled me for too long, you know? I had to get it all out, look at it, and then let it go.”

  “A month ago, you were extremely hesitant to tell Taz the truth about your mother and the rapes. I’m curious what changed your mind.”

  “Romy did.”

  “Excuse me?” Dr. Taggert’s eyebrows furrowed.

  “Romy Myers. He’s someone I met randomly right after Taz and I had this weird nonfight. I was confused and upset, and I had a panic attack in front of this coffee shop, and one of the employees came out to see if I was okay. I went inside to cool down, and we started talking. Not about anything too specific, but I got the sense that he understood what I was dealing with. He said his own bad stuff started getting better once he told his boyfriend about it.”

  Will hadn’t consciously thought about his conversation with Romy since the day it happened. Maybe his next date with Taz should be a trip out to Half-Dozen to say hi. And to actually try some of their coffee.

  “It sounds as though you two had a very fortuitous encounter,” Dr. Taggert said.

  “It was. Romy was pretty chill, too. Like someone I could actually be friends with, and let’s be honest, I don’t have any friends besides Taz. Not real friends that I actually want to spend time with.”

  “Then perhaps you should pursue the friendship. He sounds like a very nice young man.”

  The strange hitch in Dr. Taggert’s voice made Will pay closer attention, but nothing had changed in the older man’s body language. Romy had mentioned having an excellent
therapist of his own and—Forget it, the odds of us having the same shrink are too insane to think about.

  “Maybe I will,” Will said. “I want Taz to meet him, at least. Jesus, it’s so weird having a boyfriend to show off.”

  “It sounds like a wonderful thing for you, Will. You have grown so much these past few years.”

  Will laughed. “Yeah, well, considering the terrified mess you first met back in the hospital? Anything’s progress.”

  “This isn’t simply progress. These are significant steps toward being whole and happy, and that’s all I’ve wanted for you since we began treatment.”

  “I never would have admitted this before, but that’s what I want, too.” And he was absolutely on the right path toward achieving those things.

  One day at a time.

  * * *

  “How do you know he’s even working?” Taz asked, and not for the first time that afternoon. Will had stopped by the apartment after his therapy session, armed with lots of hello kisses and a request. A request to go back to the coffee shop where he’d had his epiphany almost three weeks ago, so Taz could meet the guy who’d peeled Will off the sidewalk.

  “Because I called and made sure,” Will replied. He peered out the bus window at the slow-moving late-afternoon traffic.

  Taz hated taking the bus, but he was getting more and more comfortable with it as a necessary evil. Taxis and car services added up after a while, and the bus routes usually took them to wherever they wanted to go. And they’d come up with a system where they’d try for a seat on the driver’s side, Will by the window and Taz on the outside. His scars faced Will, instead of the bus at large, and it helped.

  Every single trip they took together, even if it was as simple as walking to the park and back, helped Taz face his scars and his fears. Will had been nothing but brave for him; Taz could do the same.

  “Look, this isn’t some kind of tactical mission,” Will said softly, keeping their conversation private. “We’re going to chat with someone, and maybe even make a new friend. Neither one of us exactly has an excess of those at the moment.”

  Taz chuckled, releasing a bit of pent-up tension. Meeting new people still freaked him out, and he knew deep down he had to work on that. Not everyone was a potential enemy. Not everyone was going to point and snicker and make a big deal out of his face. But doubt still whispered in the back of his mind, reminding him that the last time he’d let his guard down in a crowd, he’d ended up in the hospital.

  You’re safe, stop it.

  The bus rolled up to their stop. Taz stood and let Will get off ahead of him, mostly to keep him within sight. The last thing he wanted was for them to get separated again in an unfamiliar part of town.

  Will glanced at the GPS on his phone. “It’s at the corner of the next block over. Come on.”

  They hoofed it down a moderately busy sidewalk. The area had decent foot traffic to support the small businesses lining the street. Their target turned out to be a large brick building, probably a hundred years old, shared by a used-book store on one side and the coffee shop on the other.

  And for four o’clock on a Wednesday, the place had a decent number of customers inside. Taz observed the kitschy, colorful decor while savoring the aromas of bitter coffee and sweet things.

  A slim guy with black hair stood from one of the tables and waved. “Hey, you guys made it.” Based on Will’s description alone, that had to be Romy. He was a few inches taller than Will and had the darkest eyes Taz had ever seen on a human being.

  And he wasn’t alone. A second person stood and turned to face them. Black, taller than Taz and all muscle, the guy might have been intimidating if he didn’t seem to be purposely trying to make himself smaller. Hunched shoulders, shy smile. But also wary. Protective. He met Taz’s eyes.

  Taz blinked first.

  “Yeah, we did,” Will said. “Is this your boyfriend? Did you tell me his name?”

  Romy laughed. “I honestly don’t remember if I did. But yes, this is my partner, Brendan Walker. Bren? This is Will Madden and his boyfriend, Taz. Right?”

  “Thomas Zachary, technically,” Taz said. “But yeah, Taz is what everyone calls me.”

  “Nice to meet you guys,” Brendan said. He offered his hand, and Taz shook.

  “I just got off my shift, so we can sit and chat for a while,” Romy said. “Do you guys want coffee?”

  Brendan directed Romy into one of the chairs. “You worked all day. Sit. I’ll get coffee. They got tea, too, if that’s more your thing.”

  “I’m not a huge coffee drinker,” Will replied.

  “Get him the salted caramel iced macchiato,” Romy said. “It’s really sweet and doesn’t have a strong coffee flavor.”

  “Sounds good. Are you a coffee whisperer, or something?”

  “I’ve worked here for three years, since the day it opened. You get good at guessing people’s tastes. Taz?”

  “I’ll go with him,” Taz replied. He wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted, and he might even splurge on a snack.

  He followed Brendan to the counter to wait behind a woman placing her order. A list of the day’s muffin varieties, as well as a few other pastry choices, was written on a chalkboard. More than half of the items had been eighty-sixed, which didn’t surprise him this close to closing time.

  The woman paid and moved to the other end of the counter to wait for her order. The guy at the register was about his age, his long brown hair twisted up in dozens of braids he kept back from his face with a black bandanna. “Hey, Bren,” he said with a smile. He gave Taz a once-over that almost felt like he was being cruised. “You finally starting up that gay football league Ezra is always teasing you about?”

  Brendan grunted.

  “Wrestling is more my thing,” Taz said.

  “Nice. I’m Trace, by the way.”

  “Taz. Nice to meet you.” This whole talking-to-people thing wasn’t so bad after all. He’d been good at it once. He could be good at it again. “What do you recommend from the board?”

  Trace didn’t even look up. “If you have a sweet tooth, you have to try the banana chocolate chip. There’s like, two left. If not so sweet, then the corn muffin.”

  “Banana chocolate chip, then. And a green tea.” He wasn’t much of a coffee drinker, either. Cola was his weakness, but the place didn’t seem to offer sodas.

  Taz couldn’t remember what Romy had said to get for Will, so he stepped aside to let Brendan complete the order. When he tried to hand over some cash, Brendan waved him away and gave Trace a twenty. Taz glanced over at their table, where Will and Romy had their heads together. He loved seeing Will in the middle of a coffee shop, chatting with a friend, doing one of the most normal things in the entire world.

  “Roe says you guys are only together a few months,” Brendan said once they’d moved to the end of the counter to wait.

  “Yeah.” The other guy didn’t seem to be fishing, only clarifying, which was the only reason Taz said more. “We met in a chat room, of all places. I liked him a lot online, but when we finally met in person, I knew I needed to get to know him better.” And since normal people asked questions to get to know each other, “How did you and Romy meet?”

  Brendan’s expression went briefly dark. “Through my best friend Eddie. He started dating Ezra, one of the owners of this place, and Ezra knew Romy. Roe and me, we were friends for a while before we got together.” A huge grin brightened his entire face. “Best thing that ever happened to me.”

  “I hear you.” Taz didn’t like to think about how lonely his life would be right now if he’d never met Will. Especially with Peter on the other side of the country and uncharacteristically silent since Sunday afternoon. Only a few vague “How are you?” texts.

  Female laughter trickled out from a space behind the counter that
had to lead to their back room and kitchen. Trace wasn’t working alone, but no one was in line waiting, so he seemed okay putting all of their drinks and food together. And he did it pretty fast. Taz started delivering finished drinks to the table as they were completed, then took his tea over to add a little sugar, while Brendan balanced the food. Trace had served the tea in a real diner-style mug, which was pretty cool.

  He sat next to Will, Romy and Brendan opposite them. His back was to the windows and door, which made him antsy, but he also got the feeling Romy had seated himself like that on purpose.

  They all had reasons to want to watch their backs.

  Taz did angle his chair a bit so he could see the door from the corner of his eye.

  “Will was telling me about the cooking class you guys are taking together,” Romy said once everyone was settled.

  He seemed to want a response from Taz, so he said, “Yeah, it’s been fun.” Except for that first day. They’d gone back the past two Saturdays, and each time the class size had grown. Malcolm had apologized profusely for the incident with the girls, and Taz had managed to reassure him he didn’t hold a grudge. It happened, and he was dealing with his own reactions to people pointing out his scars.

  And so far, no one in Half-Dozen had given him a second glance.

  Romy elbowed Brendan. “Maybe we should do something like that. Expand our repertoire. Bren and I are each good at a handful of dishes, so there’s a lot of takeout involved in our lives. And we never turn down dinner invitations at our friends’ houses.”

  Conversation paused while they all sipped their drinks and picked at their muffins. Taz offered a piece of his to Will, who turned it down. He seemed to be content to make love with his iced caramel something or other. Romy had picked a good one.

  “So what do you do for a living, Taz?” Romy asked.