“That’s my point, Kyle. He wasn’t saying horrible things about me. He said I was a sex worker. Maybe he was wrong about the details, but I am a sex worker. I have sex for money. It doesn’t make me a horrible person.”
“Lucas, tell me how to fix us.”
“You don’t, Kyle. You can only change you and your attitude about my work. There is nothing wrong with me, and we’re pretty perfect together. But even if I quit porn today, I would still be an ex-porn star, and you would still have to come to terms with that. I can’t be with someone who makes me feel ashamed for being myself.” He glanced up as a car turned onto my street. “That’s my Uber.”
“Lucas, please don’t leave. I’m sorry.
“I know, baby. I need some space, and I think you should deal with your friends in there alone.”
“Let me take you home at least.”
“You can’t leave the party you’re hosting. Kayla’s right. We did let her do most of the work. Give my best to Patrick and Tracey. Call me after everyone’s gone, and we’ll talk some more.” A horn honked, and for a split second, I didn’t want to wave the driver away. Was I ashamed to be with him? I looked at him and found my answer.
“I’m coming over tonight. We can finish talking. I am proud to be with you, Lucas. I don’t care what Kayla or Matt or anyone else thinks.”
Lucas half-smiled with doubt etched all over his face. “But I care what you think. I’ll be home. If it gets late, I’ll leave a key under the mat for you. Just wake me up.”
“Okay. I’m sorry…about everything. I love you.”
“I love you too. We’ll talk later.”
Even though Kayla had clearly done damage control, the crowd granted me a wide berth as I made my way toward my bedroom. Kayla was in the dining room, where we’d set up the bar, mixing a drink. She watched me, her face still readily communicating her anger. I couldn’t deal with her judgment.
My room was a vibrating coffin. The music had been turned up, probably to drown out Lucas’ and my argument. I threw myself on my bed, yanked a pillow over my head and screamed.
The door clicked open and a wave of Taylor Swift’s Look What You Made Me Do flooded in. I wondered who I needed to murder.
“The bed looks ridiculous there.”
“Ugh. Matt, give it a rest,” I said into my pillow.
“Kyle, sit up. I brought you a bourbon.”
I lowered the pillow and gave him the dirtiest look I could manage that would still end with me holding that drink.
“Why did you move it? You never changed anything in all the time we were together,” Matt asked.
Thoughts of Lucas made me smile—stupidly, I’m sure. “You sure you want to know?” I tossed back the bourbon and let the burn subside.
Matt followed my gaze behind him and the clear line of sight the new bed position shared with the shower.
He groaned, “Never mind,” sat on the bed and leaned against the footboard.
He stared at me for several minutes with a too-familiar stony expression. I used to call it his lawyer face because he claimed to use it with clients he knew had held back meaningful information.
“Stop it,” I said, instantly pissed that I’d broken first.
He smirked.
Bastard.
“I’m sorry I ran my mouth,” he said.
“I’m not sorry I hit you.”
He rolled his eyes, stretched his legs on the bed and kicked my shin. “Yes, you are.”
“You deserved it.”
“I know. So, Tommy Bruiser, huh? In a million years, I never saw this coming.”
“His name is Lucas.”
“Okay, fine…Lucas, then. You want to walk me through how you fell in love with a teenaged, cocky-ass power-top?”
I snickered at power-top and part of me wanted to tell Matt precisely what Lucas looked like when he called me daddy, but that wouldn’t be any different than Lucas posting our private videos to Twitter. Still, I smiled with the thought.
“What?”
“He’s twenty-three.”
“So.”
“You said teenaged, but he’s twenty-three.”
“Kyle, you’re forty.”
“So?”
“Cut the shit. Would you talk to me, please? Kayla is going to be no help here. She’ll just pull her double-speak. I know you arguably as well, and I want to help. Explain it to me. I know it’s not his dick. You’ve never been a size queen.”
I raised my eyebrow, smirked and waited for Matt to acknowledge the glaring opportunity he’d set up for me to crack a small-dick joke at his expense. His eye roll and a playful ‘fuck you’ sufficed.
“I don’t know what you want me to say? It all sounds horribly cliché. The sex is amazing. He makes me feel good about myself. He gets me to try new things. I miss him when he’s not around. He laughs at my jokes. He makes me laugh. He’s smart and ambitious and curious. He likes for me to teach him shit. I just love him.”
“You had me at the ‘sex is amazing’,” Matt cracked.
“Why do I bother?”
“Kyle, lighten up. You’ve always been too uptight about sex.”
“I don’t remember sex being a problem between us.”
Matt huffed in disagreement, and I wanted to punch him again.
“What the fuck does that mean?” I asked.
“It means exactly what it sounds like. I’m not surprised you think there were no problems in our sex life because you never asked.”
“Well, I’m sorry you were so unhappy with our sex life. Maybe you ought to have said something.”
“Kyle, you weren’t trying to hear about my issues. The truth is we’re both nice guys, so it worked until we tried to make it more. But when you hit me tonight… I think that is the first time I felt any real passion coming from you.”
“We fought all the time.”
“No, we argued about appearances. How it would look if we spent the holidays apart or if I didn’t get rid of my place. We never argued because our schedules were crazy or you missed me. We didn’t argue because it’d been weeks since we’d had sex. We cared about each other, but I think we both knew something was missing. We didn’t have a tenth of the passion you showed toward Lucas.”
I stared at him blankly. “That’s not…” Fuck, I can’t deny he’s right. “I’m sorry.”
“I know. Me too. And I did love you, Kyle. And I know you loved me too. I wish I’d had the balls to speak up sooner. You don’t know how often I think about the first time you broke up with me. You were so right. I resisted living together because I knew I didn’t want the same things as you did. Maybe if we’d just ended it then, we could have stayed friends.”
“Then why did you push so hard to get back together? Why move in here?”
“I don’t know. Honestly, you were the first guy I’d dated who’d broken up with me. We mostly got along, and like I said, you’re such a good guy. I felt like I was the one with the problem, and you know I hate admitting I’m not good at something. I just thought eventually if I stuck with it and we lived together like you wanted to, it’d finally click for me and we’d be on the same page. But you kept upping your expectations, and we’d break up then I felt like a failure again. It was a vicious cycle, and for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.
“Anyway, this isn’t about us. I didn’t mean to mess things up for you with Lucas. I was surprised and hurt. I think I’d convinced myself you weren’t capable of more. You were too level-headed to make out in public or be irrationally jealous. Even when I’d bring new guys around, you were always so polite—like it didn’t bother you to see me with someone new even though we’d broken up literally days before. Seeing you with Lucas, it dawned on me you were fully capable all along. You just didn’t feel it toward me. You have to admit, I wasn’t the only one pretending.”
“And I didn’t think I could feel worse.”
“Forget it. I’ve forgiven you, and Lucas isn’t even mad. He’s hurt. I’m sure
it’s not anything you can’t fix with a leather whip and a sling.”
I growled. “What the fuck?”
“Why are you mad? I’m the one who has to find a new favorite porn star. Do you know how many times I’ve jerked off to him? In this very bed? I have to buy new sex toys. It’s very upsetting. But seriously, did you put a sling in the house? I have to know.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Matt stared incredulously at me. “Holy shit. You’ve never seen his porn, have you?”
“I don’t have to watch him. I get the real thing, which is not anything like his porn, I’m sure. And it’s none of your business.”
“See what I mean? Uptight. Well, since I’m clearly in the running for the ex-boyfriend of the year, can I give you some unsolicited advice?”
“Could I stop you?”
Matt rolled his eyes and kicked my shin again. “First, put Kayla in her place. I know you love each other, but your relationship is getting a tad codependent. Second, don’t tell Lucas what he wants to hear. Trust him to handle the truth about how you feel. It’s the only way you’re going to get past it. Think about it. The day I moved out for good, you told me you’d wasted your thirties on me. I know what you’re after in life, Kyle. Don’t waste another decade with the wrong guy.”
“I don’t know if I can get past the porn. I hate knowing he’s with other men.”
“Then trust him enough to tell him that. You’re probably analyzing everything he says and does, instead of just talking to him about it.”
A knock on the door preceded Kayla’s entrance. “Hi,” she said meekly. “The party broke up. Patrick’s waiting by his car to say goodbye, Matt. He said he would call Kyle later. Can I come in?”
Matt flashed a sympathetic smile and patted my leg. “Don’t worry about what I said earlier. Nobody was saying shit about you and Lucas except me. The truth is that we are all jealous as fuck.”
He paused to hug Kayla on his way out. “It was good to see you, Kayla. You did a great job tonight. Sorry we ruined your party.”
She smiled and nodded. I had never seen her so unsure of herself. After Matt closed the door behind him, she waited until the front door closed too. “Kyle, I’m sorry.”
“I know. I’m sorry I left everything up to you. Lucas had a weird day, and I didn’t feel right leaving him alone.”
“About Lucas…”
“Before you finish that thought, I need to tell you something—”
She paused, “Okay.”
“Don’t,” I said.
“Don’t?”
“Yeah. Don’t finish your thought. I think you made your feelings toward Lucas plenty clear, and I’m genuinely sorry that you feel that way, but our continued friendship depends on you not saying whatever is in your head aloud.”
“You don’t want my opinion? I’m your best friend. You always want my opinion.”
“Not about Lucas. I don’t need your opinion about something I’ve made up my mind about. I love him, and we’re going to work things out however we need to do that. I’m not ending it with him.”
“So, you’re what? You’re going to marry the twenty-year-old with daddy issues and a big dick? This is going to be Matt all over again. Why can’t you just admit that it’s not working?”
I heaved a sigh. “Damn it, Kayla, I warned you. Why can’t you leave it alone? It’s my life, my relationship. I think you should go.”
She gasped. “You’re kicking me out?”
“Yes. I’m planning to spend the night at Lucas’ anyway.”
“They allow sleepovers in the dorms now?”
“Jesus Christ, Kayla. You can’t help yourself, can you? Fucking go home.”
I stood, ignoring her rant, and tucked clothing into an overnight bag. I opened the bedside drawer and made a show of putting lube and condoms into the bag, even though Lucas had supplies at his house. Childish? Possibly. But it shut her up.
“Fine. I’m leaving.”
“Good.”
“I’m not cleaning up the mess.”
“That’s fine. You did all the setup. I planned to clean anyway.”
“That’s not what I meant.” She stared at me pointedly.
When I didn’t respond, she huffed, spun on her heels and slammed the front door on her way out. Alone finally, I grabbed enough clothes for a few days, threw any food that would spoil into the fridge and grabbed my keys.
Chapter Thirteen
When my texts went unanswered, I used the spare key Lucas had left under his doormat to enter his apartment. If his mood at all matched the mess, I was in real trouble. His clothes were strewn on the floor and an empty bottle of tequila, spilled salt and a handful of lime rinds covered the coffee table. A container of ice cream had leaked its contents all over a pile of mail.
Guilt-ridden, I wiped up the mess, picked up his clothes and hung them over the chair and tossed the ice cream, tequila bottle and limes into the trash. With a deep sense of dread, I fixed a glass of iced water, rooted around for ibuprofen and searched for my man, praying he wasn’t in as bad a shape as I imagined.
I found him on top of his covers, curled in the fetal position and hugging a pillow. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest alleviated any real concern. With a remorseful sigh, I set the water and pills near his bed, dragged a trashcan closer and covered him with the blanket. After removing my own clothes, I joined him. My thoughts raced as I hugged him toward me and kissed his neck. He stirred but didn’t wake.
I needed another twenty-four—or a million—hours in my happy bubble. I half-wished I’d thought to pack the rose-colored glasses. They’d certainly come in handy. Lucas’ skin was warm against mine, and with each breath, my chest ached. The night replayed in my head on a continuous loop. When Lucas had accused me of being ashamed of him, I’d never been so devastated. Ashamed seemed too harsh, but I certainly wasn’t proud of what he did for a living either. When confronted with Lucas’ job, I had to constantly remind myself that I could love Lucas and not love what he did for a living. No one loved everything about their partner, right? But in retrospect, it seemed like semantics. Whatever part of Lucas found pride in doing porn, whatever caused him to choose that industry for his career, that part of Lucas I needed to understand. And once I understood it, then maybe we had a real shot at forever.
In the morning, Lucas woke me. “Kyle, babe. Let go. I need to piss.” He shook me, and I loosened my grip. He practically sprinted to the bathroom.
I sat up, leaned against the headboard and waited for him to return. The toilet flushed, and he turned on the water to brush his teeth.
I heard Lucas rummage through his bathroom. “Shit. Where is it?”
“If you’re searching for your Advil, I brought it in here. There’s water too.”
Lucas returned, appearing haggard. He fought with the bottle cap for a while before he let me help him. I retrieved three pills and handed them over. He swallowed them in one gulp and crawled back into bed.
“Do you want coffee? Dry toast?”
He groaned and tugged the blanket over his head. I took that as a no.
“Come here.” I beckoned him with a hand on his hip. He rolled over and laid his head on my stomach, snuggling into me.
I laced my fingers through his hair, which crinkled from the dried product. He’d never looked or smelled worse, and I still fought the urge to kiss him.
He slept it off in my arms for hours. By noon, my stomach protested the lack of food. Lucas stirred. “Sorry,” I said.
Lucas rolled away to stretch. “You must be hungry.”
“I am. Go back to sleep. I can wait.”
Lucas sat up and, swaying slightly, found his bearings.
“Feeling any better? You should drink more water.” I reached past him to grab the glass. “Here.”
“Thanks,” Lucas said meekly and took a careful sip.
“Think you can eat? How ’bout an English muffin?”
Lucas
nodded.
“Coming right up.” I hopped out of bed and made my way to the kitchen. I fixed Lucas’ muffin and a more substantial sandwich for me. I brewed coffee and met him back in the bedroom.
“Do you want it in here or do you want to try to get up?”
Lucas grimaced and let his upper half fall dramatically back to the mattress. Ignoring the theatrics, I placed his food on the bedside table and took a seat on the bed to eat my sandwich.
A few minutes later, he reached for his plate and tried to sit up. “I guess we need to talk, huh?”
“Not now.” I picked up his muffin and brought it to his lips. “Eat.”
He took the muffin and picked at it while avoiding my eye contact.
“We’ll have plenty of time later, because… Lucas, look at me.” I waited for him to meet my eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He attempted to hide his reaction with a nibble of bread. I returned his smile anyway. “I love you,” I added.
“I love you too.”
“Finish that and I’ll help you shower. We have some homework to do today.”
He peaked his eyebrow and took a sip of coffee.
“I realized in all our porn research we failed to get all the perspectives we were asked to.”
“But we got a nine and a half out of ten.”
“Well, we examined the industry from the perspective of the consumer, the government, the gay community at large, the performers and the studio and site owners.”
“Yeah, so who did we miss?”
“Yours, Lucas. I missed yours.”
Lucas beamed at me. “I guess that was a pretty major oversight, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah. And I had this awesome opportunity to hear about what you love about doing what you do. If only I had asked about it instead of guessing.”
Lucas smiled even brighter, “I thought you’d never ask.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“I knew you were trying to figure it out. You probably think it has to do with my mom, don’t you? Or being adopted? Some missing hole in my life I can only fill with sex?”
I blushed. Damn, he has my number. “Maybe. Is that why you stopped talking about it with me?”
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