2016 Top Ten Gay Romance

by Snyder, J. M. ; Black, Becky; Creech, T. A.

  I held up a hand and she shut up. “I’d like to speak to Titus for a moment please, if you wouldn’t mind. Feel free to reprimand me later about my behavior.”

  “Uh, sure. Fine.” She edged around me and I closed the door behind her.

  Titus hadn’t looked at me yet, but his face was red and his fingers trembled where they still typed on that fucking keyboard.

  I leaned against the door and crossed my arms on my chest. My knuckles were sore and I could use some ice, but I needed to get this said. “I heard you won a bet today. Mind telling me why I was worth so much effort for a few bucks?”

  He ran a hand through his hair and finally looked at me. Not sure if I saw regret there at being busted, but there was shame, no doubt. “It was supposed to be harmless fun. The guys assured me you wouldn’t care, that it would be a joke. But then, you sang with me on stage and blew me away. And then I found out that you spend all your spare time taking care of old people unable to help themselves, and I, for one, couldn’t ever do that. Old people creep me out. It started out as a bet, sure, but as I got to know you, the whole thing began to feel a bit…sordid.”

  “I see.” I did, actually. “But you still took the money.”

  He smiled sheepishly. “It was a lot of money.”

  Curious, I asked, “How much?”

  “A thousand dollars, total.”

  Jesus. Such spawns of Satan. “First of all, you were unprofessional. Don’t those guys technically report to you? As the senior manager, aren’t you supposed to set an example and not be ‘buddy buddy’ all the time?”

  “Sure, but I thought—”

  “I don’t give a shit what you thought. You know, there’s a reason why I keep things to myself, especially in this environment. It’s because of assholes like them, and now you. You led me on, made me feel like I could trust you, like maybe you were different, though I had my reservations at first. God, I should have known better. You’re all the same, aren’t you?”

  Titus stood and started to move around his desk, but I raised a hand. “Nope, don’t wanna hear it, though at least you told me the truth, I suppose. I’ll never be able to trust anything you say ever again, you know that, right?”

  His face fell, and I wondered if he finally realized what he’d done in that stupid jock brain of his. How could such a handsome, confident man be so dumb?

  I opened the door behind me. “Thanks, by the way, for ruining my trust in anything anyone has to say to me ever again about dating. I hope the money was worth it, and I’d rather hang from the top of a burning building on a rusty nail puncturing my eyelid before I’d ever think of going out with you. Anywhere. So feel free to take someone else out for steak on Friday.”

  With that pronouncement, I went back to work, and a wall was completely erected around my heart in concrete, likely never to be broken through ever again.

  * * * *

  May slid into June, and I buried myself in work. I’d been reprimanded for my behavior, and I’d apologized to my staff for setting such a bad example. They, in turn, patted me on the back for finally teaching those guys a lesson. Huh. Hadn’t realized anyone else had noticed what had been going on. And yes, I told them it was still wrong, though I was secretly pleased with their support. Liz had kissed my cheek and given me a high five, not in front of my employees, of course.

  The suggestions I’d made to Titus were actually put in place, along with many others, and our budget was increased so we could replace some of our aging equipment and get new uniforms. The online portal for service requests was a hit with everyone, and it cut down wait time, miscommunication, and errors by a huge amount.

  As for any interaction with Titus, I had no qualms dealing with him. I’d said my piece, and he’d played his hand. I knew who and what he really was, now, and I could move on. I simply treated him the way I did all the others, though I noticed that they weren’t messing with me as much as before. Not sure why, but no skin off my back.

  Fourth of July weekend, I worked in the kitchen on Saturday at Meals on Wheels since they were short-handed. Then I did deliveries on Sunday. Monday, my staff and I had decided to go to the city fireworks show. We met at McCalls, a bar on the edge of downtown near the stadium where the display would be held.

  Liz brought a date, and surprisingly enough, it was the moron I’d punched in the nose. I’d question her taste in men, but I didn’t want to get my own nose bloodied. Bryce gave me a genuine, lopsided smile and I nodded, then immediately dismissed him to go back to my conversation with Betty, one of the regulars for the night crew. She was telling me about her daughter’s asthma.

  At eight o’clock, the show began. We all found seats in the nosebleed section and exclaimed over the colors and patterns in the sky. The entire event lasted an hour, and the fireworks, fifteen minutes of that. It was worth every second. Afterward, Liz and her date split, and everyone else broke off into groups to head out to parties or clubs, or wherever.

  I decided to have another beer and zone out watching TV over the bar. While sipping my Heineken, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see Titus Leung standing there, looking too good in tight jeans and a blue short-sleeved shirt.

  “May I join you?” he asked, gesturing to the stool next to me.

  I shrugged. “Free country.”

  He took a seat and I went back to watching…tennis, I guess. It was just something to stare at while I drank my beer.

  “You out by yourself tonight?” Titus asked after he ordered a Dos Equis for himself.

  “My staff and I hit the fireworks show. They just left. I’ll be leaving in a few myself. Taking a cab.”

  “Oh.” He sounded a little disappointed, but what did he expect?

  “Uh, you like tennis?” he asked.

  “It’s what’s on.”

  He heaved a frustrated sigh. “Are you ever going to talk to me again like a human being, instead of an automaton?”

  “Dunno.” I finished my beer and placed the bottle on the bar with a cash tip. “See you at work.”

  “Hey, wait,” Titus said, and grabbed me.

  I looked down to where his hand lay, then glanced up at him. “Let go of me,” I said in measured tones.

  He dropped my arm. “I just want to have a real conversation with you.”

  “We can talk at work. About work stuff. That’s all the conversation we ever need to have.”

  I walked toward the door. As I opened it, I thought I heard him say over the crowd, “I’m sorry, you know. I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

  Yeah, me, too.

  * * * *

  At the end of July, I caught the flu. I rarely ever got sick, but this bug laid me out flat for about a week. Liz held down the fort while I huddled on the couch at home, watching daytime TV. Insert gun barrel into mouth. Pull trigger.

  My head was foggy most of the time anyway, and there was only so much of Judge Judy I could take. Voldemort was fed no matter how shitty I felt, because I couldn’t handle any evil spells containing flying fur balls right then. He kept to his comfy cat bed in a corner of the living room, mostly, except for the one time he decided that sleeping on top of my head was preferable. Until my coughing fits and sneezes scared him away.

  There were used tissues all over the floor, and I was sick of soup, but that was the only thing I had the energy for right then. And Liz had made a whole pot for me so all I had to do was heat up a little bit each day. She’d also left a box full of bottled water next to the couch.

  Maybe I should shower soon, but I didn’t feel like it. My cell phone rang in the middle of an afternoon snooze. I fumbled underneath the snotty tissues to find it. “Hello?” I barely even recognized my own voice, it was so raspy.

  “Can I come over?” Even with my fuzzy brain, I recognized the voice on the other end of the line.

  I tried to clear the frog out of my throat. “Why, Titus?”

  “Do you need anything? I wanted to check on you.”

  “Because you think a pat
hetic do-gooder like me wouldn’t have friends to take care of him? Whatever game you’re playing, I’m not interested. Buzz off,” I yelled, then hacked up half a lung as I ended the call. That could have gone better.

  What a skunk!

  After I drank some water, I settled back onto the couch and slept for a few more hours. When I awoke, it was after six and the news was on. Yeah! I’d survived another day of Court TV. I slowly stood and shuffled my way into the kitchen to make soup. Before I could open the refrigerator, I heard a knock on the door.

  Liz had said she’d stop by to clean up a bit and check my stock of food and water. Was that today or tomorrow? I couldn’t remember. I shuffled back into the living room toward the front door. I opened it, then shut it again on seeing Titus standing there, a huge gift basket in hand.

  Fuckety fuck! Why couldn’t he just get a clue?

  He knocked on the door again. “Come on, Ed. I brought you something. I know I messed up and you have every right to be angry with me, but I’m trying to be a…good friend.” Why had he hesitated over those words?

  “Leave it on the floor and go away. Better yet, take it with you.” My lungs chose that moment to having a coughing fit.

  “You sound awful. Can I at least make you something to eat, or, I don’t know, wash your dishes? Please? I want to help. It doesn’t have to mean anything. Just one work colleague doing a solid for another.” He started banging on the door now. “Stop being so stubborn!”

  Since I didn’t want my neighbors to get involved, I reluctantly let him in. He walked by me and I shut the door. “Set the basket on the table, please. Then you can go.”

  I moved slowly around him and went back to the kitchen to get the pot out of the fridge and scoop some soup into the saucepan I’d been using for the past few days. When was the last time I’d washed it?

  I spilled some of the pot’s contents on the stove, and Titus took over. “Here, let me do that.”

  I backed away from him, not wanting to be so close. In my weakened condition, I’d likely do something stupid, and though I didn’t have the strength for anything vigorous, my libido seemed to be willing to overlook the other stuff between us.

  It wasn’t fair that he looked good in any lighting, and I didn’t want to feel this tug in my concrete-barricaded heart to forgive him. I watched as he heated the soup and put the big pot back in the cold box.

  “Have you eaten anything besides soup since you’ve been out?” he asked while washing the bowl and spoon I’d been using.

  I gave in and let the refrigerator hold me up. “It’s all I can stomach at the moment, and I don’t have the energy to make anything else.”

  “Have you seen a doctor?”

  “Yes.”

  He placed the bowl and spoon on the counter and said nothing further until the soup was cooked. “This the tray you were using?” He picked it up from the counter.

  I nodded and he put everything on it, led the way back to the couch, and set it on the table there. “Why don’t you sit and eat? I’ll clean up here.” Under other circumstances, I would think this was kind of…sweet, actually.

  I did as he asked, my legs suddenly too shaky to do anything else. “You don’t have to do this, and I don’t want you to catch anything.”

  He smiled for the first time that evening and I tried and failed to let it affect me in any way. “I brought gloves.”

  I left him to do what he wanted and slurped my soup as I listened to the news reporter talk about a shooting two miles away on Madeira Avenue. What was wrong with people?

  It took Titus all of five minutes to tidy up, then he moved the blankets to one side—the pillows were behind me—and sat at the other end of the couch. “Good?” he indicated the now-empty bowl.

  “I suppose so. I can’t really taste anything right now.” I set down the bowl. “Look, thanks for stopping by. And,” I added grudgingly, “I appreciate the basket. I’m really tired though, and I need to lie down again.” In fact, I started to stretch out right then, my body urging me to get more rest.

  Titus stood, actually tucked the blankets around me, and gently brushed hair from my forehead. “Sleep well, Ed, and I hope you’re back on your feet soon. Text me if you need anything, all right?” And then he was gone.

  I dreamed of his fingers on my skin.

  * * * *

  All that remained of my bout with the flu was a mild cough by the time I returned to work. My staff greeted me like a long-lost, beloved pet, and grumbled playfully that Liz was a slave driver and they were so happy I was back at the helm.

  Liz winked before giving me a brief rundown of things. Same ol’ stuff, it seemed. I spent most of that Monday catching up, fielding “welcome back” visits, emails and phone calls, all of which surprised me.

  When I mentioned this to Liz, she said, “People like and respect you. You just never noticed, caught up as you always are with the haters. And—” She paused, her voice taking on a mischievous tone. “—it doesn’t hurt that a certain facilities director has been singing your praises, either, talking about all the great ideas you’ve had and how they’re really making things better in the building. I even overheard him chewing out a couple of the managers when they said something snarky about you. Seems you have a huge fan.”

  I didn’t know about that, and I really didn’t want to try and figure out what Titus was up to. Probably more of the same.

  By Tuesday afternoon, things were pretty much back to normal. I arrived at the weekly meeting, and before I could sit in my usual spot in the back, the manager I’d kneed in the groin approached me.

  I mentally prepared myself for whatever ugly thing Gus was about to spout, and then he said, “That’s a wicked right hook you got, man. Bryce looked like shit for days. Where’d you learn to punch like that?”

  For a second, I stared at him, stunned. He actually approached me? In public? To have a conversation that wasn’t condescending or soul-sucking in any way? Maybe there was something in my DayQuil…

  “I, uh, learned some stuff from my dad, and I used to do kickboxing, back in the day.” Look at me sharing something personal and not having a hissy fit.

  Gus nodded, and was that respect I saw in his eyes? “That’s cool, man. I thought I wouldn’t find my nuts after you got me that day. You’re okay, Ed.” Then he walked to his usual seat in the second row, and I found mine in a daze.

  Five minutes later, Barb bounced up to the front of the room. “Hello, everyone! First of all, I wanted to welcome back our very own Ed Kaehler! We missed you while you were gone, Ed, and you’re not allowed to get sick again.”

  She clapped her hands. Why? I didn’t know, but everyone joined in and smiled at me. I simply nodded and tried not to sink to the floor in embarrassment.

  “Now,” she continued. “You all know that Labor Day is coming soon, and every year we volunteer at a non-profit or something along those lines. This year, I’m happy to announce, we’re going to be working with the Meals on Wheels event at the community center just south of here. There’s lots of places we can fill in, and I know it will be very rewarding for everyone. I should thank Titus Leung for suggesting it. In fact, he will be organizing the effort, so talk to him if you have any questions.”

  I was shocked to my core. Titus had suggested Meals on Wheels? He’d barely survived a day at that place, and I knew it wasn’t his favorite thing. Why would he punish himself like that? What was he trying to prove? I searched the room for the man and found him in the third row, shoulders a little hunched as his eyes sheepishly met mine. I arched an eyebrow. If he truly wanted my forgiveness, then yes, using my favorite non-profit would go a long way to soothing my feelings of betrayal. Still…

  It was time to talk to the man and clear the air.

  * * * *

  I sent an email to Titus asking for five minutes of his time later that afternoon. We decided to meet in the building café at four. Titus was fidgeting in his chair when I arrived at the small table for two he’d c
hosen in the back.

  He stood quickly and pulled out a chair for me. I said nothing as I took a seat, then he asked, “Would you like coffee? Tea or water? Anything you want.” The man was practically wringing his hands.

  “I’m fine, Titus. Please sit.” Once he was comfortable, I said, “Explain to me what’s going on here.”

  He cleared his throat and leaned forward. “I betrayed you and acted like a complete ass. I get that. I’m trying to show you that I’m truly sorry, and I can change. And no, it’s not just so I can get in your pants, though that’s tempting all by itself, but it would be an honor to be your friend. I don’t know if you can forgive me or let me in at all, even trust me a little, but can we start over? And so you know, I gave the money I won from the guys in the bet as a donation to Meals on Wheels. Well, uh, yeah. So, um, that’s why I…Now you know.”

  He slumped in his chair and twiddled his thumbs while nibbling on his bottom lip as he stared at the table. This was indeed a revelation! And the fact that he didn’t keep the money was…hmm. Well, I could acknowledge his efforts, at least.

  “Titus, look at me.” When he did, I said, “Thank you for your apology. I appreciate that you gave the money to a good cause, though the fact that you pulled the stunt in the first place still hurts and was very unprofessional.” He acknowledged my words with a sad nod. “I believe people can change, but you’re right, it may take a while before I can trust you again. As for getting into my pants, I’m flattered, but it’s not happening, not right now, anyway.”

  I paused a beat, then added, “I’d like to start over, too. Perhaps you have a point about my learning to be more open about myself. Past experience has taught me that letting people in hurts a lot, and you’ve done nothing to change that view until now. But I can at least not lump everyone into the same category, especially if someone’s trying to become a better person, right?” I smiled at him.

  Titus smiled tentatively in return. “Thanks for giving me another chance. You’re a great guy, Ed. People should know that about you. Matter of fact, they already do, and I’m more than happy to punch out the naysayers, though you’d probably do it better than me. I saw Bryce’s nose after you hit him. Damn, dude.”