“No, baby, not be on top, do you like to top?” he asked again, and I was kind of confused.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I told him, feeling my cheeks heat up even more.
“You know, top or bottom, give or receive, pitch or catch?” He was smirking at me, and I felt my lips pull into a smile in spite of my embarrassment.
“I’ve only ever… caught.”
He quirked one eyebrow up at me. “You pitched pretty well last night,” he informed me, and I couldn’t help it; I kind of giggled. To be honest, I was shocked that we were sitting here talking about having sex last night and I couldn’t remember it.
“I wish I could remember.” I sighed, pulling my towel a little higher around my waist, and contemplated going to my room to get dressed. Before I could move, Mike had pushed me back onto the pillows and was lying almost on top of me.
“I could show you,” he whispered. “I could show you things that would blow your mind.” He was starting to get hard under the towel against my hip as he leaned forward and ran the very tip of his tongue all along my ear. My body responded almost instantly, while it took my mind a few minutes to catch up.
If I agreed, I wouldn’t be able to blame it on the alcohol. If I said yes, I would have to take full responsibility.
I didn’t have the strength to say no when every hormone in my body was screaming “yes.” With what seemed like a huge effort, I pushed Jamie to the back of my mind and concentrated on the man on top of me. His lips traveled slowly and decisively over my neck. I knew we could always stop, but I found I loved the way his lips felt on my skin. The grip on my towel slackened, and I felt it slip as Mike slid his body down mine. Sweet, tender kisses peppered my shoulder as his fingers stroked my chest with touches so light I thought I might have imagined them. When he stroked harder, rubbing my nipple with an absent friction, I moaned, unable to stop myself. The hairs on the nape of my neck stood up with his answering throaty groan.
Pulling back just a little, he stared up at me, and I’d never seen anyone look at me with such raw lust. Jamie’s looks were always more about love than lust, and I liked that. With Mike, his face was just full of desire—desire for me. It gave me a real rush to know I turned him on like that. Throwing his towel onto the floor, he crawled back up, his eyes not leaving mine, and kissed me with such a driving need that I couldn’t help but wrap my legs around his waist to pull him closer. Gone were thoughts of right or wrong, loyalty or betrayal.
“Micah,” I whispered, my voice rough and needy. The end of his name came out in a long moan as he rubbed himself against me.
“I love how you say my name,” he whispered back between long, slow, deep kisses. Opening me up to him, he explored my mouth with determination, his thumb rubbing gently near my ear as he cupped my face. Our noses bumped in our urgency, and I wrapped my arms around him, stroking his bare back. Each time my lips parted under his, I felt a spark of need shoot through to my stomach. With my eyes closed, I concentrated on the smell of his woodsy body wash, the minty taste of his toothpaste, and the heat of his body as he moved sinuously against me. I felt his warm, ragged breaths amplified against my skin with each tiny pause between kisses.
When we both lay, sweaty and sated, Mike’s lips moved softly against my ear as he whispered, breathless and worn out, “Oh my God, kid.”
THAT night Mike and I ordered out for pizza and hung out in his room. I didn’t really feel like listening to the other guys tease me, either for getting drunk or for sleeping with Mike. Even after an encore later in the afternoon, I still wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about what had happened. Mike tried to reassure me, reminding me that it was just sex, but it seemed wrong to have that kind of relationship with him while looking for Jamie at the same time. I didn’t think it was fair to either of them, but Mike told me I was overthinking things.
It was almost midnight when I went back into my own room to be alone for a while so I could think without his presence to influence me.
For almost eighteen months, I’d been searching for Jamie, and aside from one hastily scribbled letter on his way out of the rehab center, I had not heard anything from him. More than once, I’d considered the possibility that maybe he didn’t want to be found. Even though he was apparently on his own, he still hadn’t reached out to Richard or Carolyn.
More important than my search was my financial situation. In addition to the rent, I was spending money I didn’t really have on cabs to get to some of the shelters I couldn’t reach by bus. I’d also found out that in a house with eight guys, going grocery shopping like Carolyn had back home was pointless. Within the first week, I learned to get what I needed for that day, usually from the deli up the block on the way to or from work. Eating takeout for every meal had started to take a toll on my savings because even after my paycheck, I was still using the money I’d banked to make ends meet. After doing the math, I concluded that without another job, I wasn’t going to make it. Either I had to find a job making a couple hundred more than I made with Kenny, or I would have to use what I had left to buy a bus ticket back to Alabama. With only a high-school education and no marketable skills, the chances of finding something weren’t good.
Richard and Carolyn would tell me to get on a bus and go back to Alabama, but my life in California was so much more than it had been in Alabama. There were more reasons for me to stay than just looking for Jamie. I had friends. I had independence. I had more than I ever thought I could. Unless it meant being homeless and starving, I didn’t want to give that up.
Knowing I wouldn’t be able to sleep, I logged in to Facebook to see if I had any messages.
I went through the list of new updates, surprised at the number of friends I had accumulated. That simple digital list made me feel like leaving California would be a mistake. It gave me the feeling that if I gave it up, I’d never have that chance of happiness or freedom again.
PING.
I looked down at the taskbar and saw that Adam was sending me an instant message. Our relationship had become somewhat strained over the last five months. The more time I spent with Mike and the guys, working, or at the shelters looking for Jamie, the less time I had to talk to him. As strong as our friendship had been before I left, it was starting to fade the longer we were apart.
[Adam]: Hey! I’m surprised to see you.
[Brian]: Hi. Yeah, we went out last night, and I was kind of hungover today. This was the first chance I’d had to check my page.
[Adam]: You went out drinking?
[Brian]: Yeah, I went with some of the guys from work. It wasn’t anything too serious; we just danced and had a few shots and stuff.
The chat window showed Adam was typing a response, but I didn’t want to listen to a lecture. I’m sure he had been to a few keg parties at school. I decided to change the subject.
[Brian]: How’s school?
[Adam]: School is okay. I wish I didn’t have to work part-time. It would make the classes easier. Of course, having you here to tutor me would help too. *smile*
[Brian]: I wish I only had to work part-time. I’m working my ass off sunrise to sunset, and I still don’t think it’s going to be enough.
[Adam]: What do you mean?
I hadn’t meant to type it. Adam couldn’t help me, and I didn’t want to worry him. Since I’d started, though, there was no way he would let the subject drop without an explanation.
[Brian]: I’ve been doing landscape work in order to pay the rent, but it doesn’t cover everything and I have to pull from what I have saved. If I don’t find something soon, I may have to use what money I have left to go back to Alabama.
[Adam]: You could reapply and come to school here!
[Brian]: I like my life here. I don’t want to leave unless I have no other choice.
[Adam]: You’ve only been there a few months!
[Brian]: It’s amazing here. There is this whole community of gay people who take care of each other. I have a nice place and a job. I finally
feel like I belong somewhere and I don’t want to leave.
[Adam]: You’re really not coming back, are you?
[Brian]: I’ll find a job. So, no, I don’t think I am.
Adam’s chat window stayed open and green like he was online, but he didn’t send another message, and neither did I.
Later, as I sat watching the thunderstorm outside my bedroom window, it occurred to me that I’d probably ruined my friendship with Adam. He had come to terms with my decision to leave in order to find Jamie. He had hated it because he wanted me to return his feelings, but he had accepted it because my decision not to be with him was about a guy I had been involved with before Adam had come along. After our chat, I think he realized that even without Jamie, I still didn’t want to be with Adam. The change in my attitude toward him surprised me. When I had gotten on the bus in August, leaving Adam had hurt, but a few months later, I found I didn’t want to go back. I had started to carve out a life for myself in San Diego. That’s why my rapidly disappearing savings scared me. I’d seen the homeless shelters, and I’d seen the people Leo handed out blankets to. Going back to Alabama was a better alternative.
Ten
“HEY, Brian, can I see you for a minute?” Kenny called as Mike and I walked to his Jeep. We’d just finished doing maintenance on a large apartment complex, and I looked forward to a long hot shower and some food. Curious, I looked up at Mike, but he just shrugged. It wasn’t like Kenny to talk to a guy alone unless his work had slipped, but he’d never had problems with me before. With a burst of excitement, I remembered that Kenny had promised to bump up my hourly after a few months. I only hoped it would be enough to cover my expenses.
When I turned to walk back to Kenny’s truck, I was surprised to see him slide into the driver’s seat. I opened the passenger door and climbed in. Papers, small pieces of equipment, and a few pieces of discarded clothing littered the floor of the extended-cab pickup. As the owner of a small business, Kenny probably lived in his truck. I knew it was not only his vehicle but kind of an office as well. I closed the door behind me and looked up at Kenny. Disconcerted, I realized his eyes were on the steering wheel. I got the feeling he didn’t want to look me in the eye.
“Brian, you know that the crew does a lot of work for APMC, right?” he asked, and, a little confused, I nodded. APMC was a property-management firm that managed dozens of apartment buildings and condos around San Diego. They split out their buildings among a couple of small landscape companies.
“APMC is a national company, they have offices all around the country, and”—he started using air quotes—“‘in an effort to streamline the expenses and get more competitive services’, they’ve opted not to renew our contract. They are going with a national company that can handle all of their properties. I mean, it makes sense, because that way they can get a high volume discount, but without their business, I… I can’t keep you, Brian.”
Kenny was firing me.
The sandwich I’d had for lunch a few hours before threatened to make a reappearance.
Too stunned to speak, I just gaped at him. He seemed to take that as an invitation to keep talking, to try to explain, but I didn’t want to listen to it. Angry tears glistened at the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Damn it!
“Here,” he said, handing me an envelope. “It’s two weeks’ salary, Brian. I’m so sorry. It’s the best I could do. I had to let Joey go, too, and I still have to pay the crew with almost half my business gone.” I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t, even if there had been anything to say. Opening the door, I stumbled out with the check clutched in my hand. My whole body felt cold; even the sweat that trickled down my back seemed to have frozen.
“Hey, what did Kenny want?” Mike asked as I crawled into the Jeep. I just sat there. I couldn’t tell him. I didn’t want it to be real. Then I looked down at the crumpled envelope in my hand and took a shaky breath.
“My life just ended.”
HOURS later, I collapsed into bed more tired and defeated than I think I had ever felt. The other guys had commiserated over the loss of my job, patting me on the head and telling me I’d find something. They didn’t realize I had run out of time. My bank balance mocked me each time I checked it. If I skipped the normal monthly bus pass, I could stay in San Diego for about a month with no income. At that point, I would no longer be able to pay my rent. Leo had been so incredibly kind to me, and I refused to hurt him or jerk him around. I would go quietly, right back to Alabama.
Of course, I’d love to see Richard and Carolyn. Even if Adam hated me, I’d still have Kyle and Sensei. Maybe I could even go back to work at the dojo. Since I’d graduated, I wouldn’t have to deal with school. I could talk to Mike and the guys over the Internet. Trying to stay positive, I told myself it wouldn’t be so bad just to keep from screaming.
Someone knocked on my door.
I rolled over to face the wall, ignored the knock, and hoped they’d just go away. Since moving here, I’d started sleeping naked, and I didn’t feel like getting dressed again. Luck just seemed to be eluding me today because they knocked again. I sighed and looked at the door to see that I’d locked it when I came in.
“What?” I barked, beyond my limit for patience.
“It’s me,” Mike said, his voice muffled by the wood.
“I’m not really in the mood for sex tonight,” I said, my voice heavy with sarcasm, but made no move to get off the bed.
“Open the goddamned door, Brian,” Mike growled in frustration. I waited a minute, trying to decide if I really wanted to open it. After all, pity parties were solo affairs. In the end, I rolled off the edge of the bed and walked to the door, not bothering to put my jeans back on. Standing naked in front of the door, I unlocked it and threw it open. Mike’s eyes bulged as he stood unmoving in the doorway. I started to push the door closed, but he apparently found his focus and blocked the door with his body. He pushed past me into the room, and I closed the door behind him.
“What?” I asked, standing there with my hands resting on my naked hips.
“I wanted to see if you were in here pouting, and I see that you are,” he said, mimicking my stance, only his hands were on hips covered in denim.
“What is wrong with you?” I asked, ignoring the shocked look on his face. “Without that job, I don’t have the money to stay here, Mike. I’m going to have to go back to Alabama. I’m screwed.” Going over to my dresser, I pulled out an old pair of cutoff sweats and threw them on.
“No, you’ll find something,” Mike said, but his face had gone pale.
“No, I won’t. I don’t have time. Without that money coming in from Kenny, I can stay another month, maybe two if I push it. Then it’s back on the bus and back to God’s country.”
Mike’s mouth opened and closed a few times, almost as if he were choking on what he wanted to say. Finally, he just closed it and stared out the window for a long moment.
“I’m sorry, Brian.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry too. I finally found a place where I fit in, where I have friends, and I have to leave.”
“Hey,” he said, suddenly brightening. “A couple of us are going up to San Francisco for the weekend. Em’s got a job up there. Come with us!”
“Have you heard anything I’ve said? I’m broke, Mike. You want me to go out partying with you guys?” I asked, my voice rising and breaking with strain. “What the hell, man?”
“I’ve heard everything you said, and maybe I want to spend some time with you before I never see you again!” He pushed me, and I went to push him back, but he caught me in a hug instead, pulling my head onto his shoulder. I struggled for barely a second before the whole day caught up with me and I clung to him.
“It will be okay, Brian, I promise,” Mike whispered, stroking my hair. “I promise, baby.” I didn’t see how that could be true, and I tightened my grip, burying myself in his warmth and his promise, trying not to let everything fly apart.
TWO days later, on Thu
rsday morning, Mike, Emilio, and I packed our bags into the back of Mike’s Jeep. Emilio shoved two bags on top of each other with a sheepish grin.
“Lord, we’re gonna be back on Monday, man,” Mike said with a low chuckle. “You really need two bags of clothes?” Smirking at Mike, I put my single duffel next to Emilio’s bags.
“Yeah, Em, I came to California with one duffel of clothes and I’d planned to be here for more than four days,” I said, but then remembered I’d soon be going home with that same duffel, and the laughter died in my throat. With a sigh, I picked up the cooler we’d brought road snacks in and got in the back seat. It would take a little over ten hours to get to San Francisco, and while we’d stop for dinner along the way, Mike argued that snacks were essential.
When Mike opened the driver’s side door to get in, he flipped the lever to put the seat down and leaned into the back seat where I sat. He put his hand on the back of my neck, pulled me forward, and then whispered in my ear.
“We’re gonna have a good time this weekend, right?” I pulled back a little and looked at him as he smiled gently.
“I promise, no moping. We’ll have a fantastic weekend, just the three of us,” I said. Leaning forward, I kissed him and heard a low groan from the passenger window. Emilio stood just outside the door, watching us kiss.
“If you guys are going to keep doing that, I’m not going to make it to my shoot,” he said and then looked up at Mike. The fear in his face surprised me, but Mike just shook his head and told Emilio to get his ass in the Jeep.
Brutal traffic slowed our road trip to a crawl as we made our way out of the city. We passed the time by talking about random things from television to cooking to what Emilio wanted to wear when we went out that night. Mike said we were going to hit a few bars, and when I protested, Emilio dug his wallet out of his back pocket.
“Brian, meet Braden Schneider,” he said and handed me a laminated card. I flipped it over and my mouth fell open. It was a California driver’s license with my picture and the name Braden Schneider. It accurately reported the month and day of my birth date but backed the year up, making me twenty-one.
Destiny (Waiting for Forever) Page 14