by Roxy Harte
“How can you be jealous when you know how badly I want this ass?”
“You’re a slut, Adrian.”
“I’ve been working on that, Johnny. If you’re around, maybe I can get a real handle on it. I can’t go back to the way it was. I need you here—with me.”
My words make him sob, and my cock up his ass makes him scream. I pump his load from him, making a sticky mess between my hand and the desk and his belly.
I pull my cock from Johnny’s ass when I hear a light rap on the office door and Alec’s voice, “Need you, boss.”
I don’t hurry to hide the evidence; Alec would never open a closed door without a verbal invitation. I kiss Johnny’s cheek. “Clean up and find me out on the floor.”
I manage to get my clothes straightened and out of the office without taking him again but the urge is strong to do just that.
When I get to the bar, I understand why Alec felt compelled to call me out. Toby. She’s still on the far side of the dance floor and it’s a packed crowd but she’s heading this way. What on earth is she doing here? She hates being here. Even if she was going to the upstairs apartment, there’s a back entrance that completely bypasses the club.
The crowd is pumped up on the vibe of the live band, and she finds it hard getting through all of the dancers. I meet her halfway, in the middle of the dance floor, amidst the blinding lights and crushing bodies.
I shout over the loud music. “So what? You don’t answer your cellphone now?”
“I was busy.”
“Too busy to answer the phone?” I look at her more closely. “Have you been crying?”
She looks over my shoulder and by the newer, angrier expression I can only assume she just caught Johnny exiting my office. “Did you even notice I’ve been gone three days?”
I hadn’t, but then she hadn’t noticed I’d been away either. “What is your problem with Phelps?”
“What is my problem? Seriously?” She sounds a little hysterical, so I start moving her to the edge of the crowd.
“Yes. I don’t understand what is going on with you.”
“I don’t want you to see him. Period. End of it. I’m your primary partner, just deal with that.”
Holy fuck. A repeat of the Jameson-Emma drama but this time it’s Toby having the meltdown. I don’t believe it. I’d laugh at the insanity but it isn’t funny, there isn’t anything funny about it. If I allow her to tell me who I can have sex with, where does it end? Will she think she has the power to make me stop living the lifestyle?
Emma did.
Look where that got Jameson.
“Let’s talk upstairs, in private.”
“Get him the fuck away from me, Adrian, or I swear, I’ll leave and never come back.”
“Whoa! Slow down.” I look over my shoulder and see Johnny easing through the crowd toward me. Oh, this is bad. She bristles and even from the distance I can tell Johnny is itching for a catfight. “Just go upstairs, Toby. I’ll be right up.”
I turn and push through the crowd, trying to get to Johnny before he gets to Toby.
“I’m here, on the floor, just like you wanted. Now, what do you want to do with me?” he asks sarcastically.
I know he saw Toby, he had to have. This is his way of trying to get validation. I can’t deny him this or I might never see him again. I smile, grabbing him and kissing him, hard, stealing his breath. “Wait for me at the bar, lover-boy, I need to deal with a little drama.”
He laughs and I see he is looking over my shoulder at her. From the twinkle in his eyes I’d bet money she’s watching the whole show.
“Down, boy, I got this.”
He projects, “I can help her pack her bags if you want me to.”
I run my hand through my hair. “Is this necessary?”
“Depends on how badly you want me in your life, Adrian. I’m tired of playing third fiddle. I want to be your lead.”
I nod. Now I get it. I feel like I’ve been set up for a fall…but who would I blame except myself? I hurry Toby out of the club and up the stairs. Safely ensconced in the apartment, I look at Toby, not knowing what to say. I pull her over to the sofa with me, and she ends up in my lap. “Talk to Daddy, baby boy.”
“Don’t call me that.” She pulls away and climbs off me. She walks across the room to the fridge and gets a beer. She pops the top and chugs before asking, “You want one?”
My eyebrow jerks up. “Want to tell me what the hell happened in Malibu?”
She starts to cry.
What the fuck? I was almost joking. I mean, what could have happened in Malibu?
“Toby?” I say with a warning note in my voice, “You better tell me what’s going on.”
“Why?” she demands. “You don’t tell me everything.”
“You know everything that happens in my life.”
She snorts. “You didn’t tell me that Phelps loved you, or that you loved him.”
I look at her, hoping my face is a reflection of how astonished I am. “You’ve always known I was lovers with Phelps. He’s been in my life for more years than I can count….off and on…he and I were lovers when you and I met.”
Ah. Oh. Fuck. Just call me dense. That’s the problem. She thinks she won me from him, and he’s hurt because she became my primary. That’s the third fiddle reference. He’s been in my life longer, but Toby and Bianca got the promotion he deserved. Am I ever the royal fuck up?
“You stopped being lovers two years ago. He doesn’t just get to waltz back into your life.”
“Sure he does.”
“Why?”
“Because I want him in my life. Because you know who I am. Poly and bisexual is a big part of that.”
“Labels. Those are just words you use to excuse what society doesn’t understand.”
“What?” I ask, feeling like a big part of the conversation happened when I wasn’t even in the room.
“Label me,” she challenges.
“Toby, baby, please tell me what this is about.”
She starts crying, and I get the feeling this has nothing to do with Johnny.
I pull her to me. “Toby, talk to me, honey. I love you. I know we can work this out.”
“I did the Advocate interview.”
I nod. I knew that. Didn’t I? Sure, that was why she was in Malibu.
She takes a shuddering breath and says the last thing I expected. “I had sex with her. Lexi Dade-Smith, the woman who interviewed me.”
“What?” I shriek, not meaning to overreact but reacting just the same.
“She says I’m a lesbian and our relationship is an abusive one.”
My jaw drops, and I have the sudden urge to find this woman and put her out of her miserable existence. I try to play it cool, taking Toby’s hand. “No one has the right to judge you or me or what happens when we are naked together.”
“I know,” she whispers. “I just really like her.”
Dropping her chin to her chest, she looks pathetic and young. I want to pick her up and hug her and somehow make her feel better, but I know anything I say or do right now has the potential of backfiring badly.
While I watch, her face screws up and she starts to cry again. “I can’t talk about this.”
“Toby? What? You’re scaring me. You said you had sex with her, but was it because you wanted to have sex or did she force you to have sex?”
“I wanted it,” she answers then bites her lip, and I know she’s trying to keep from saying something that will make me mad.
I reach out and lift her chin, catching her gaze. I lean forward, but only slightly, before asking, “Can I kiss you?”
She closes her eyes and cries harder. “Thank you for asking.”
I kiss her, letting her sob into my mouth as I do. I can taste the salt of her tears but can’t think of a single thing to make her feel better. “Baby boy, please tell me what to do.”
She pulls away and looks at me, her face crumbling. She pulls her t-shirt over her head, f
resh tears falling over her face, big, wet drops sliding off her chin to land on her chest. She stands and pulls off her jeans so that she is standing in her underwear. Through hiccupped breaths, she says, “I want you to make love to me.”
I pull her to forward to stand between my thighs. “I’ll make love to you, but you have to tell me what happened with this woman that has you so upset. Was it just because you are seeing me? Because I’m a man? Fuck, Toby, you can have her print in the magazine that you are bisexual, or pansexual, or I don’t know, pick a label, any label, one that makes you feel good, because obviously whatever happened today didn’t make you feel good on the inside.”
My cellphone vibrates in my pocket. It has to be after two, maybe closer to three, closing time. I look at my caller ID and sure enough it is Alec. “I have to answer this, it’s the bar.”
“Of course you do,” she says angrily.
I follow her to the door and push my foot against it so that she can’t open it while I listen to Alec tell me that he has a problem. One of my friends is too drunk to leave, and Alec wants to know what he should do with him. I suggest, “Put him in a cab.”
“Sure thing, boss.” As he’s hanging up I hear him say, “Hey Phelps, you’re parked out back in the alley, right?”
Oh, hell.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell Toby.
She glowers, demanding, “You’re leaving?”
“There’s a problem downstairs. It will just take a minute.”
She gives me one of those if-looks-could-kill stares as I open the door. I hear her screaming after me, “I don’t believe this!”
I hit the bottom stair at a dead run and open the door to the bar. Phelps is less than ten feet away and I can hear him slur, “Men are pigs. They’re all pigs.”
Nice.
“I need to grab something at the market and some dumb-ass delivery guy blocked my Toyota,” Alec is telling Phelps. “Where’s your car keys, love?”
Phelps pulls his keys from his pocket. “Don’t care if you borrow it, but come right back because I need to go home soon, okay?” He sees me from the corner of his eye and too late realizes Alec thinks he’s too drunk to drive. “You’re not blocked in, are you?”
Alec shakes his head. “Nope.”
“Fuck.”
I slide onto the barstool by Phelps. “Come upstairs, man. You can sleep this off, and in the morning we can talk.”
“No. Toby’s up there. Did you just have sex with her?”
“Sex? No.”
“Yes, you did,” he accuses. “I’ve been waiting on you for hours.”
“It’s been minutes.” I loop an arm around his waist and help him stand. “But even if it was hours that doesn’t mean we were having sex.”
“But tonight you said…”
“I know what I said, Phelps. I’m still working out the details, but everything I said to you is true. I don’t want to spend a moment more than I have to away from you.”
“I can’t do it, Adrian. I see you around town with that freaky girl-boy and that other chick and I just…” He drops his chin to his chest. “I’m just too jealous. It hurts too much to see you with them.”
I sigh, somehow knowing this was coming. Phelps and I go farther back than Bianca or Toby. If there is anything I do know it is exactly how he feels. “We’ll work this out, Phelps. What I need from you is a little faith, okay? I love you.”
He grabs my cheeks between his palms, staying standing I think because of the hold he has on my face. “I know you do, Adrian, but Toby said it has to end, this thing between me and you.” He slurs, “And don’t take this the wrong way, but I know how you fuck, so by God, if she’s got the bigger dick, God bless her. It’s okay if she’s calling the shots now. I get it. I’m outta here.” He tries to pull away and staggers.
“You’re drunk, Phelps, you aren’t going anywhere. When did Toby say that?”
“Two years. When I stopped coming around.”
“She had no right to tell you that.” As I pick him up and throw him over my shoulder, everything starts to makes sense.
He kicks and screams. “Put me down, Adrian. I’m going home. Alec, give me back my keys.”
“Phelps, I have your keys. You can barely stand. There’s no fucking way either of us is letting you behind the wheel of a car, and I’m inches away from firing Alec because you got this drunk right under his nose and he didn’t even notice it.”
“A woman brought me drinks,” Phelps announces. “I thought she might have been a he, that’s why I was talking to her, but no, after a while, she lifted her skirt and proved she was all girl.” He whispers like he’s telling a secret, “She wanted to fuck, but I told her I didn’t fuck girls.”
I look at Alec, and he shrugs. “We were really busy. I didn’t see anything.”
“I kissed her when I thought she was a he, and it was yummy, but that was when I thought she was a man. After I found out the truth, I just wanted to puke.”
Alec opens the door to my interior staircase, and I start climbing the stairs with Phelps slung over my shoulder. Toby must hear me coming, because she throws open the upstairs door and screams when she sees Phelps over my shoulder.
“You brought him here?”
“Where else would he go?”
“A taxi home? A hotel?”
“I like the way she thinks, Adrian,” Phelps slurs from behind me. “Let’s go to a hotel and get naked.”
Toby shrieks and throws up her hands.
“You aren’t helping, buddy. The point is to calm the girl down.” I’m an idiot. What was I thinking bringing him upstairs? I sigh. My lifestyle is a freaking train wreck right now. I just want some stability. What in the hell happened? What I’ve always had with Phelps, though on again, off again, has been relatively drama free. And until yesterday, I thought Toby and I were stable.
“Don’t get me wrong, I still think you take the whole little boy scenario way too far, as in fucked up too far, but you’re kinda cute in your little Underoos there. Do they make little boy strap-ons too?”
“It’s him or me. Get him out!” She points at the door and stomps her foot.
“Toby, he’s drunk. He isn’t going to remember any of this in the morning.”
“This is ridiculous! Would you really choose him over me?”
“It isn’t a competition.” I shake my head, wondering what in the hell is going on. Full moon?
I drop Phelps on the couch and turn to her but she is seething angry, past all rational reason. She’s pulled on her jeans and her t-shirt.
“Toby,” I try anyway. “He can’t drive home, and I am not letting him leave this drunk.”
I watch her grab her keys.
Toby’s leaving.
I sit down on the couch and watch her walk away. I don’t do a single thing to stop her. After the door slams, rattling the walls, I manage to say, “Damn it.”
“You’re an asshole, Adrian,” Phelps tells me, adding just before he passes out, “That was just cold.”
Chapter 35
Toby
I wake up to the sound of Lexi tapping on the glass of my car window. I know I look like shit, but it can’t be helped. I look at her through the glass before finally opening the door and stepping out. We’re in the parking lot of her work, because I couldn’t bear to face her at her house. I needed this meeting to be professional. On the record.
“Toby. What are you doing here?” She holds a tall, lidded paper cup in her hand. The scent of fresh coffee makes my mouth water.
“I want to finish the interview.”
She laughs. “I have to work today. Yesterday was so much fun, but I just can’t take off again today.” She leans in to kiss me, a quick peck on my lips. “I have to go, but I’m free for dinner tonight.”
“No, Lexi, you don’t understand. I really need to finish the interview. I need to get something added. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.”
She rubs her temple, and I hate i
t that I’m adding to her stress load. She nods and says, “Okay. Do you want to go into my office?”
“No, it won’t take long. I wrote it down…and I was careful…so that you’d actually be able to read it. It’s the message I want to send out to women, girls. I don’t want anyone to be afraid, like I was.”
Lexi reads what I wrote out loud:
“For more than a decade, I’ve been creating a message for women, that it is safe to be who you are…to express yourself in sports or art or in fashion. During that same decade, I’ve been hiding my own truth from myself, because I refused to accept what the world already saw as fact, but I didn’t want to be identified as gay, or lesbian, or dyke. Labels designed to fit people into tidy boxes. But by refusing to accept a label, the only person I hurt was me. I refused to explore my sexuality because I was so afraid of limiting my potential, but now I’m claiming my identity and for anyone who, like me, is hiding in a lie, I want you to know that it is safe for you to claim your identity too. My name is Tobias Fitzsimmons, and I’m proud to say that I’m genderqueer.”
Lexi folds the piece of paper. “I’ll make sure it gets printed, just like you wrote it.”
I’m glad that she doesn’t ask why I didn’t just put ‘proud to be a lesbian’ because I would have had to gone through the entire thought process again of which label could possibly make me happy. Maybe someday she’ll ask and I can explain my thoughts on gender and sexuality, but I’m not up to it today and since she doesn’t ask, I hug her. “Thanks.”
I smile, feeling happier than I’ve felt in a very long time. I should probably talk to Adrian and tell him I’m sorry about last night’s scene. Silly really, creating such chaos just because I’ve been avoiding my own truth.
I wink at Lexi as I climb into my car. “You should get to work.”
“Am I going to see you again?” She looks doubtful even after I nod. Maybe because I’m doubtful too. I’m just not positive that Lexi is open-minded enough to take me as I am. And I’m not willing to be anyone less.
Last night, arguing with Adrian, I wasn’t myself. I was possessive and needy, neither of which I wear well. Adrian is polyamorous, he always has been; he’s also bisexual, and I’ve always known that as well. So, my temper-tantrum over Phelps was totally uncalled for, and I wouldn’t have respected Adrian as much in the morning if he had chosen me over Phelps. He loves Phelps. I get that. He also loves me. I get that too. Lexi wouldn’t understand any of it…even if I tried to explain it.