by Quinn Ward
The crack of Calvin’s hand on my ass pulled me right out of my internal pity party. “Care to try again?”
“No, Cal.” I didn’t want him to repeat the question because I knew I’d lie again. If he knew how needy I could be, he’d end things. I needed to be strong and remember my place in his life. Smack! “Fuck, that hurts!”
“Well, it sure as hell isn’t supposed to tickle.” He slapped me again in the same spot as before. My ass was on fire. “Tell me why you’re really upset.”
“I’ll be fine,” I promised him. When we’d gone over the tournament schedule, Calvin had assured me he would still send me the messages I’d come to rely on over the past month. The only difference would be I wouldn’t have to cook breakfast for two in the mornings and he wouldn’t be here waiting for me when I got home. I could do this. It wouldn’t be any different than when I was single.
Crack! “Try again.”
Tears leaked from my eyes. I shook my head, not trusting my voice to hold onto my secret. Smack! My knees buckled, but I immediately put myself back in position, sticking my ass out, needing more. Chasing relief. Fuck, I was so twisted up I was all but begging him to spank me.
Calvin continue his assault on my ass until I was sobbing while begging him to let me come. He denied my release, but gathered me in his arms and led me into the living room. I buried my face in the crook of his neck and tried to get control of myself. Calvin repeatedly kissed my cheek, forehead, temple, anywhere his lips could reach while telling me it’d all be okay. When I calmed down, he asked, “Are you ready to talk now?”
I didn’t want to, but I knew Calvin pushed me because he cared. He’d repeatedly hammered home the point that I didn’t have to hold all my stress and worry inside, that he wanted me to talk to him. Well, we’d see if that was true.
“I hate that you’re leaving this weekend and that pisses me off because I know you have a life but I don’t want to come home when you’re not here,” I blurted without a pausing to take a breath. “I used to love being on my own. Didn’t want anyone nosing into my business, but I need that with you and I don’t know why it freaking matters so much to me.”
“Oh Frankie.” Calvin sighed. “I don’t want to go, either, but it’s really only Saturday that you’ll be alone. You said you were going to work late Friday night so Tony could have a night off and Sunday morning you’ll be busy with brunch. And just because I’m not here doesn’t mean we won’t talk. Would it help if we look at the schedule and figure out when I could call to check in on you?”
“No, because I shouldn’t need that from you,” I argued. The crux of my problem was I felt weak for being so reliant on him. “How long will you stick around if you know this is your life?”
“If you remember correctly, I’m the one who pushed you into letting me give you some structure,” Calvin reminded me. He was still rubbing my back and my leg, giving me something to focus on to get my mind off my insecurities. “I didn’t do that because you’re weak, I did it because you’re so damn head strong you couldn’t bring yourself to admit you need help sometimes.”
And because I make bad life decisions when it all gets to be too much.
“Every day we’re together, you amaze me, Frankie.” He tightened his strong arms around my torso. “Remembering how you resisted when you didn’t think you wanted any of this helps me never take a moment with you for granted. Just because there are times when we won’t be physically together doesn’t mean it’ll do anything to diminish what I feel for you. If anything, those are going to be the most important times for us to find ways to stay connected. I promised to be your rock and I intend to keep my promise.”
An alarm started blaring from my phone. Great. My meltdown meant there was no time for breakfast because today was a day I had to be at the restaurant early to meet with suppliers. “I’m sorry about breakfast.”
“Life happens,” Calvin assured me. “You get dressed and I’ll throw something together that you can eat on the way.”
“What about you?” Calvin always took care of dinner, not wanting me to cook after I’d spent all day at the restaurant, and in return, breakfast was supposed to be my meal to prepare.
“Just this once, I think I can manage on my own,” he told me. I worried my bottom lip because routines had become everything to me. Taking care of him in some small way grounded me. “If it makes you feel better, you can handle dinner tonight. I won’t be too late, but I do have to take Ryan to practice.”
“Is he staying here tonight?” If he was, I’d need to order extra food. I couldn’t remember if me and my brothers ate like that when we were teens, but if we did, it made sense why Papa always complained and said he could’ve used at least one girl in the family.
“No, he’s staying with Marisa since we’ll be out of town this weekend.” Calvin urged me off his lap. I grumbled as I stood, because I’d much rather blow off work and stay here with him. “Come on, brat. The sooner you leave, the sooner you’ll be home.”
Wednesday night, I took Calvin’s suggestion and invited Max over for dinner. He’d asked if I wanted to meet at the bar, but I was trying to stay away from my old haunts. Going to bars, Club 83 in particular, felt like temptation. Worse, it felt like a betrayal to Calvin if I went out when he wasn’t with me. I hadn’t mentioned that fear to him because I knew he’d tell me I was being ridiculous, but I couldn’t change the way I felt.
Luckily, Max hadn’t put up too much of a fight when I suggested a low-key night at our place instead. He offered to bring the beer if I supplied a pan of Mama’s lasagna. I’d rather eat just about anything else on the menu because it was the same dish Ryan requested every time he was over for dinner, but I didn’t complain. People liking the food we served was good for business.
Max let out a low whistle when I invited him into the house. It wasn’t opulent, which made me wonder what Max was used to. Which then made me feel like an ass because I’d never gotten to know him, and he’d been the only person I’d trusted to keep my secrets. Giving him a quick tour of the house was awkward as hell. He kept shaking his head, making little huffing noises.
Lucky for me, Max waited until after dinner to address the elephant in the room. While he was digging through the stack of video games Ryan and I had amassed, he said, “I don’t get you, man.”
“What do you mean?” There was a chance he wasn’t going to call me out, right? Wrong.
“I helped you out figuring you needed the cash. Believe me, I’m the last person who’d judge another for doing stupid shit out of desperation.” He rested back on his heels and gave up the pretense of looking for a game for us to veg out to. “First, Eli tells me that you need help at Marino’s and I didn’t question much because I figured you just worked there. Imagine my surprise when I found out you run the damn joint.
“Then, I figured maybe the restaurant wasn’t doing so good and you were trying to save it,” he continued. Max grabbed two more beers out of the carrier and flipped the tops off. “But now I think that was off base, too, because this isn’t the type of place someone who’s tricking to make ends meet could afford.”
This was another of those annoying crossroads. I could blow Max off or I could tell him the truth. I was tired of weaving my web of lies. That part of my life was in the past but I had to own up to what I’d done if I wanted to move forward. Or something like that. Still, telling him too much would mean cluing him in to what Calvin and I did, and I wanted our private life to stay that way. No one needed to know the details of our relationship.
“You’re right. I didn’t do it for the money,” I admitted. Max cocked his head to the side, appearing even more confused now. He motioned for me to continue with my explanation. “I guess the easiest way to explain it is I got off on the power exchange of it all. If a dude paid me, that meant he was the customer, and the customer’s always right.”
“Dude, that’s the oldest lie in the service industry handbook.”
“True, but if I
was being logical, do you really think I’d have done it at all?” Now that I’d promised myself I wouldn’t go back to doing stupid, illegal shit just for the headspace it put me into, I often questioned how I’d managed to talk myself into doing it in the first place. Doing it when I was a college kid trying to prove I didn’t need anyone’s help and wanted a “safe” way to explore my sexuality was one thing, but as Max pointed out, I didn’t need that now. I wasn’t going to get rich anytime soon, but I wasn’t digging in the couch for change, either. I had a family who loved me and probably would even when they found out I was gay. Why keep doing something that could take all that away with one wrong pickup?
“Good point. You keep talking about… that… in past tense. Does that and your absence from the bar mean you’ve moved on? Maybe found a healthier, sexier, way to get what you needed?” Max popped a game out of its case, loaded it, and tossed me a controller. It was strange to see how he made himself at home in Calvin’s space. It’d taken me over a month to stop feeling like I was a guest in his home.
“Yeah, but if you don’t mind keeping that to yourself, I’d appreciate it,” I told him. I really needed to get together with my brothers and come out to all of them. My plan was to tell them first because then I’d know how many of them had my back when I finally told Mama.
“Cool. I’m happy for you.” And just like that, Max let the subject drop.
We wound up playing a first-person shooter game until nearly eleven. Calvin still wasn’t home, but I knew he’d soon send a goodnight text message, so Max and I got to a stopping point and I walked him to the door. “Thanks for inviting me over. It was good to hang when I’m not working. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”
“I won’t,” I promised him. As soon as Max pulled away from the curb, I locked the door behind me and went to bed.
14
Calvin
Stopping for lunch. Should be home by seven. Could you handle dinner?
“Dad, you can’t bitch at me for having my phone glued to my palm if you’re just as addicted,” Ryan teased while we waited for lunch to arrive. I quickly pocketed my phone so I could give him my full attention.
“Watch the language,” I scolded him. I was pretty lax, knowing that kids would be kids, but Marisa had a conniption every time she heard him curse. “And sorry, I was letting Frankie know when we’ll be home. If you’re lucky, he’ll ask his brother to put together something for dinner.”
“That’d be cool, but doesn’t he cook?” The waitress dropped off our meals, and I was pretty sure Ryan had the burger in his mouth before she’d set his plate in front of him. He was always ravenous after hockey, and this new team was faster and stronger than his previous ones, meaning he acted like he hadn’t been fed in weeks.
“He does, but not much.” One night over a meal Frankie watched me prepare and begrudgingly helped with, he admitted he’d learned to hate cooking as a teen. His mom stretched herself too thin trying to help at the restaurant while still being expected to care for the kids, so she’d tried getting everyone involved in meal prep whether they wanted to or not. He didn’t mind breakfast as much because that was the meal he was never forced to help with.
Ryan dragged a French fry through a sea of ketchup until it was so saturated the limp fry broke as he lifted it to his mouth. I watched him repeat the process with another and another. The entire time, he never looked up.
“Is something wrong?”
He paused, dabbed the corner of his mouth with a napkin, and tossed the crumpled napkin on top of his plate. “We’re pretty close, right?”
“Of course.” My heart rate increased and my mind raced with all the possible revelations he was about to lay on me. My brain kept getting caught on him getting a girl knocked up. I had no logical explanation for that fear, other than I heard the way some of his hockey buddies talked when they didn’t think parents were listening. It was terrifying.
“Dude, you’re gonna stroke out.” Ryan laughed and shook his head. “I don’t even know what you’re worrying about, but I think I’m offended. I was sort of wondering what’s going on with you and Frankie. You seem… closer lately. Are you a couple?”
Okay, on the spectrum of talks he wanted to have this was about the best possible outcome, but it still made me uncomfortable. Frankie and I hadn’t talked about what we’d say to our friends and family beyond Max and Eli. I didn’t want to lie to my son, but I also didn’t want a pissed off boyfriend if shit went sideways and Ryan reacted poorly.
“We’ve been seeing each other, yes,” I admitted. If Frankie was upset about Ryan knowing we’d deal with it, but I’d made a promise to myself when Marisa and I split that I was through with lying. Ryan hadn’t been happy when I came out to him, but he’d gotten over it. Seeing how supportive his mother was helped pave the way to his acceptance. “Is that okay with you?”
“Yeah, sure.” Ryan shrugged. “I’m more pissed that you didn’t say anything sooner.”
“Sorry. No matter who I’m with, that doesn’t mean I’m going to tell you after the first date,” I explained. Hell, Marisa and her fiancé had been together months before she told Ryan they were dating. I knew because she’d needed me to step up and have Ryan at my place more frequently, but that wasn’t a hardship. When she worried she was being a shit mom because she was spending time with Jack and dumping Ryan on me, I was quick to point out she was a great mom because she wasn’t parading what could be a temporary part of their lives around. Now, I was trying to live by the same principle.
“But not everyone lives in the same house as you. Would’ve been nice to have some warning that you two were getting freaky, but nooooo, I had to overhear that shit when I just wanted to take a leak in the middle of the night.” My cheeks were on fire with embarrassment. I’d convinced myself that he’d been passed out the entire time we were screwing around that night. “And you might wanna get some lube for the hinges if he’s going to keep sneaking into your room at night. Seriously, you two suck at keeping things covert.”
If I could crawl under the table and hide, I would have. Never in my wildest dreams had I envisioned a life where my teenage son was schooling me on the finer details of being in a relationship. And why in the hell had he mentioned lube? Ugh. Shoot me now.
And because this moment wasn’t awkward enough, my phone chose that moment to ping.
Frankie: I’ll ask, but he’s in a mood today. Might be safer to pick up Thai tonight.
Me: That’s fine. Don’t want to cause any issues. Thank you.
Frankie: Anytime. Drive safe. X
“Oh my God, you’re worse now that I know what’s going on,” Ryan complained. I wadded up my napkin and tossed it at his head. His expression softened. “I’m just giving you a hard time, Dad. I’m happy for you. He’s a great guy and at least with you dating him I don’t have to worry about you hooking up with a total dick.”
“And what makes you think I’d go for a guy you thought was a jerk?” I asked as we made our way to the counter. My taste in men wasn’t that bad. Not that I’d given the subject enough thought to have a type for anything other than getting off.
“Not saying you would, but it’s always a crapshoot. My friend Matt wound up with a total prick of a stepdad. While it’d be nice to eventually have two stepdads as awesome as Frankie and Jack, that’s a bit much for any kid to hope for.”
Ryan settled into the passenger’s seat as though he hadn’t just dropped another atomic bomb on our casual lunch stop. It was way too soon to think about Frankie and I getting married, but long after Ryan had passed out for the remainder of the drive, I was still questioning if that was where I hoped things were eventually headed. By the time I pulled into the driveway, I could admit that yes, I wanted coming home to Frankie to be my normal.
Marisa and Jack stopped by late in the evening to pick up Ryan. She flashed me a few knowing looks but didn’t say anything. Of course, she’d figured out Frankie and I were together. Which reminded me, we needed to
sit down and talk about who we were comfortable telling because the longer we were together, the less comfortable I was keeping him a secret.
Before any heavy conversations could take place, I needed to help him unwind. Seeing how keyed up he was when we got home tonight, I hated that this was going to be a frequent occurrence for the next few months. And to think, this was a short trip.
As soon as the front door was closed and locked, I rounded on Frankie. “Why didn’t you tell me how you were feeling this weekend?”
“I was fine, Calvin,” he lied, unable to meet my eyes.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” I demanded. Other than a brief stolen kiss while Ryan changed, Frankie had been avoiding me all evening.
“It was a long weekend, that’s all.” At least he was getting closer to the truth now. I led him through the house to the en suite attached to the master bedroom. Releasing him, I drew a bath. “Cal, I’m tired. Can’t we just go to bed?”
“We will, once you relax a bit.”
“Don’t want a bath. I just need to feel your arms around me and I’ll be fine.” While the garden tub filled, I began to strip Frankie, ignoring his protests. We were on the same page, because I needed him just as badly. Tonight, I fully intended to dole out his first punishment, and even though I knew it was what had to happen, I was nervous that I’d hurt him. No, that wasn’t right. I remembered William’s words from the first time we visited The Lodge. Frankie was going to hurt by the time I was through with him, but I’d never forgive myself if I injured him.
Frankie relaxed against my chest as I reached around his body to unbutton his jeans. I nipped at his neck, smiling at every elicited moan. “Let me do this for you, baby. I’m sorry I wasn’t home this weekend and want to make it up to you.”